Rum and Raindrops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance (4 page)

Jen swallowed as though her tonsils had swelled to five times their size and turned away, the judge’s voice stopping her.
 

“This manmade fire is officially out of control.”

She turned back. “I’m sure Scott and his men will put it out.” She gave him a small nod of goodbye.

“It’s endangering the inhabitants of Blueberry Springs.”

She gave him a tight smile, turning away again.

“What did you do out there?” He paused, letting her fears sink in deeper.
 

You’re just some flatlander who thinks anyone can be a guide.
That’s what he’d said on the hike when she’d flustered and floundered, trying to decide what she should do after he’d hurt himself. After taking him to see a doctor she’d been able to take the group out again to finish the hike, but still, there had been a number who’d preferred to get a refund and go home. It had been a hard start to her career as a guide and had landed a nice sized dent in her confidence. A dent she’d just about worked out.

Jen squeezed her cup of coffee, the hot liquid spilling over the top, burning her hand in a painful but welcoming distraction.

She needed to leave. Every second in front of this man was allowing him to edge under her worst fears and worries. She had been ninety-eight percent sure she didn’t start that fire. Now she was about nineteen percent sure, meaning there was a whole lot of room for her confidence-gnawing doubt to take hold.

“It looks as though you might not be buying Wally’s store when he retires after all.”

She whirled to face him with a glare. How did everyone in town seem to know every tiny thing about her? “I am a trained nature guide with many certifications. And…and I have insurance!”

“Does it cover burning down Blueberry Springs?”

Jen drooped. Of course it didn’t. It only covered clients such as the judge so they couldn’t sue her if they got hurt. There was no way her premiums would cover burning down the town.

The judge’s expression turned almost sympathetic and his voice lowered as if giving advice. “There’s already been several hundred-thousand dollars in damages and firefighting costs, Jennifer. You need to proceed with extreme caution in the coming days.”

She clenched her mouth shut, working to keep her cool.

“Communing with nature. What a joke,” he scoffed, stepping away. “The funny thing is,” he paused, looking to the smoky sky, “you can’t put a price on the trust of your fellow citizens. Or your reputation as a guide.”

“I took every precaution in putting out that fire,” she snapped. If her hands hadn’t been full, she would have poked him in the chest she was so angry. “I didn’t
have
to register to use the park that weekend. I could have done like twenty percent of the population does and just gone for it. Don’t you think it’s more likely that an unregistered user started that fire? Someone who doesn’t follow rules? Someone who starts a campfire without a proper fire pit?” Her hands shook and her voice trembled. “I put that campfire out by the book. I was more than careful; I was anal retentive. I double stacked my fire pit with rocks. I hauled extra water from the creek to put it out. I stirred my wet ashes. The clearing is bare with no overhanging tress, and the ground wasn’t dry enough for underground fires.”

She tipped her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. All these people. Their houses. Their businesses. Their everything. This beautiful town that had saved her…

She had to prove she didn’t start that damn fire. And she needed to do it now.

“It wasn’t me who started that fire.” Her voice quavered, and she hated herself for appearing weak and vulnerable.

“I’m sure justice will be served,” he called out as she walked away.

* * *

Jen’s heart did a lopsided gallop as she hurried across Wally’s store. If someone could guarantee she’d never see Judge Radcliff ever again she’d do a little jig on Main Street for all to see.

She focused on the window that looked into the staffroom—an area that was actually just a fat hallway between the store and Wally’s small office. A few more steps and she’d be in the room’s safety. A few more steps and she could curl up with chocolate and caffeine. The only thing that could make it even more soothing would be a splash of rum and the latest edition of
Backpacker
.

“Jen,” Liz called, appearing from behind a paddle rack.

Jen jumped, squeezing her to-go cup, sloshing more coffee out the lid. Served her right for not using her reusable insulated cup. She was going to have nothing left by the time she got to the staffroom.

Liz was the town’s second in command on the gossip circuit, losing out the number one position to her older sister, Mary Alice. While Liz may have heard it all through the newspaper and law firm where she worked, Mary Alice saw it all run through her convenience store and wasn’t bound by confidentiality, giving her a leg up over her sister.

“Saw you had a little chitchat with that jerk Radcliff,” Liz said sympathetically. “His butt must be jealous of the amount of crap that comes out his mouth.”

Jen sprayed her sip of coffee across the alley between racks of clothes.

“Like that one, eh?” Liz asked.

Jen gave an approving snort, her eagerness to get away from Liz, and any upcoming digs for gossip, waning.

“I was wondering if I could interview you for the paper?”

“I’m not interested,” Jen said, stepping toward the staffroom.

“I thought you might want to defend your actions.”

“What actions?” Jen called as she continued to ease away.

“Being the only one in the park,” Liz called after her.

Geez. The Blueberry Springs gossip circuit was working overtime on this one. She could practically see her credibility being swept away as they day progressed.

Wishing the staffroom had a door and wasn’t merely blocked off by a postcard rack, she spotted Wally’s open office door at the other end of the space. She tore across the tattered carpet in four big steps, past the two old chairs, TV table holding a coffeemaker, closing Wally’s door in her wake.

“Might not be a bad idea to talk to her,” Wally said from his desk.

Jen flung the brownies in the air and stifled a scream, sloshing coffee all over herself. “Holy hell, Wally. You nearly made me pee my pants!”

Wally gave her a weak smile. “Lunch break. In my office. Where else did you expect me?”

Okay, she had to give him that one.

“Why don’t you give her something positive to put in that old rag?” Wally said. “You know, feed her the things you want spread around town. A little positive PR?”

Jen picked up the bag of brownies, upset that Wally felt she needed to defend herself to the public. “She’ll just twist it. And there isn’t anything to say other than ‘Put out the damn fire, Scott. I need the forest for my excursions.’ Not exactly what she’s looking for.”

“An interview allows for more than that. It’ll allow people to learn who you are. Your history. Where you come from.”

“Nobody wants to know that sorry state of affairs.” Jen handed Wally a brownie and sat across from him, aware that unlike the staffroom, which had a window that looked into the store, they couldn’t see if anyone in the store needed help. She closed her eyes and savored another brownie, blocking out everything around her. Food was the cure. Although, if she kept eating as she had been she’d be wearing all those clothes she’d brought to Blueberry Springs. The ones that had become too big once she’d become active and toned up again, dropping the convenience store flab she’d accumulated working for Ken’s parents all those years ago.

“People enjoy the story behind the story,” Wally said, brushing crumbs off his shirt.

“There’s no story.” Jen grabbed coffee and stood. “I’ll be in my office doing inventory if you need me.”

She headed to her office, disappointment weighing her down. Bad news kept dogging her, snatching bits off her when it got close enough. Would it kill Wally to chase Liz out of his store? Surely she wouldn’t take it personally if it came from Wally.

Moe ambled into the store, calling out, “Have you seen my extra Brew Babies shirt? I’m late for work and can’t find a clean one.” He pulled a stained Brew Babies work shirt away from his chest to prove his point.

Jen scanned the store, on the lookout for Liz. “You left it at my place after your shift the other night. I was trying to get out the red wine, remember?” She stepped into her office and exchanged her empty coffee for her apartment keys, chucking them to Moe.

“Oh, yeah.” He shot her a grin as he caught the keys. “You still haven’t had extras made?”

A few months back Wally had let her move into the apartment above the store that he’d been keeping open in case one of his five kids wanted to move back to Blueberry Springs. But with the last one marrying herself off, he’d given up hope and finally allowed Jen to take over the place—although not paint over the crazy wall colors left behind by his first daughter. Still, she loved the place, even if it was a bit worn down such as the locks which had broken last week and had, as a result, caused Moe to be locked out from raiding her fridge as there was no longer a spare key hidden behind the loose baseboard at the landing at the top of the street’s stairs.

“Don’t forget to bring my keys back. You shirt’s in the kitchen.”

He shot her a grin over his shoulder as he left the store. Moe was so easy to hang out with. No expectations. Totally laid back and, best of all, no ambition to cheat on a girl. It would take too much effort. That was a quality she’d come to admire in a man. Even if he was just a friend.

She listened to the thumping up the steps that led from Main Street up to her apartment above the store. Waiting for Moe to return, Jen looked out the store’s front window, checking for Liz before updating herself on the status of the smoke clouds. Where the hell was all that rain she’d ordered? She leaned her forehead against the window and sighed. Her breath made small circles of fog on the glass then quickly faded. She let out another sigh and created another circle. She watched it slowly erode along the edges until it was gone. And again.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a group of kids giggling at her. She pulled her head away and stuck out her tongue, sending them away laughing.

A flicker in the other direction. Tall build. Handsome man. She flashed him a flirty smile. Why not? Today was so screwed up she may as well have some fun before she got locked in jail.

She straightened as though someone had jerked a string attached to her spine. Hell’s bells on a rented pony. That handsome man wasn’t just some guy. It was Rob. Fire Investigator. Destiny holder.

He entered the store, and unable to recall how to make her limbs work, Jen stared at him from her spot by the window.

Why did she give him a flirty smile? Now he was going to think she was trying to butter him up and flirt her way out of trouble with her feminine wiles.

Did she even
have
feminine wiles?

She was doomed. With a very large
D
.

“H-h-hi,” she stuttered. Why couldn’t she catch a break with him? First she was a nature guide who started forest fires on her days off, and now she was a depressed, deranged crackpot who amused people from the front window of the store. Oh, and there was the spilling coffee all over him and insisting he take her free shirt and asking him out on a hiking date.

She bent over to stop the lightheadedness from getting worse as Wally, having heard the door’s bells jangle when Rob entered, poked his head out of the staffroom.

“You got it, Jen?”

She waved lazily. “You bet.” Oh, Lord. Now she had to sell something to His Holy Major Hotness, the man who determined her destiny in all the wrong ways. “Or…actually I have to get to that inventory.” She tucked her head down and hustled away.

Rob called after her, “I came to see you.”

She stopped dead in her tracks. He came to see
her
. Oh, holy. Did that sound amazing to her ears or what?

She turned to face him, half expecting cupid to be hanging in the air above him, winking at her with a wicked cherub smile.

Rob waved a leather zip-up folder in the air. “I have to take your statement and a few other things.”

Not
that
kind of ‘came to see her.’ Of course. The stress. Totally messing with her brain.

“But...” she protested.

“I just need a few details.” He flashed her a smile. “First hand.”

He shouldn’t be smiling as though he was enjoying his job. Not a nice man like him. He should be on his hands and knees all wrung out at having to pursue her case. He should automatically know she was innocent. A girl in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He made up the ground between them and extended his hand to shake hers. “It’s been a few days. Always a pleasure to see you.”

She watched his hand lingering in the air and slowly reached out. It felt as though she was doing everything in slow motion, as though she was coated in a deep layer of cold molasses.
Dear Lord, please make it so I don’t look slow.

Rob made up the distance between their hands and grasped hers warmly, fitting their hands together expertly. Like they were made for each other. What other body parts could he fit together like that?

She gave herself a shake and met his eyes. God, he had great eyes. So bright and sparkly against his dark hair. And he looked…happy. Happy to see her. How twisted was that?

Jen gave herself a mental slap.

The heat and strength from his grip had pleasant prickles of desire working their way up her arm, spreading further, making her unable to speak. She snatched her hand out of his grip. She needed to convince him she was innocent. She needed to block out his rocking, ogle-worthy body and the serrated pangs of loneliness that shot through her now that they were no longer touching.

God, she was lonely. She needed to touch him again.

No. She promised herself she would never be that lonely again. She would never make the same mistake twice. No matter what.

But there was something about him that made her feel safe despite everything. Something that whispered to her soul that he wouldn’t be that guy. That he was on her side—even though in the eyes of the law he wasn’t. He was an impartial, third-party investigating her, collecting evidence to determine her fate.