“No, I’m just a friend.”
The other man eyed his pad. “Are you a reporter?”
“Yes. ForThe Anniversary Beacon.”
“I see.” Shoulders sagging, Dr. Wilson shook his head. “Unfortunately, privacy laws prevent me from commenting further.” White coat flapping, the doctor hurried away, clearly already regretting what little he’d revealed.
So Colton had written his story, turned it in, and told himself he was done worrying about Jewel. He’d gone to Timberwolf’s Pub to eat and watch the sun set over the lake.
For the first twenty minutes or so, he’d enjoyed the peace and quiet of the relatively deserted bar. But as the day began to wind down, the place filled up. First one guy, then another stopped by his table to say hello. Now, while trying to eat a bacon cheeseburger for his supper and chasing this monument to clogged arteries with an ice-cold beer, it seemed every guy in the bar wanted to talk about her. Jewel Smith. Colton couldn’t chew and swallow fast enough even to pretend not to know anything.
Finally, he gave up and put the burger down. He hadn’t been able to taste it anyway. He paid his check and decided to head out, get in his boat and do a little fishing. There, he’d find peace and quiet.
And in this at least, he was right. He used his trolling motor to make the boat go slowly, watching as the fiery sun headed gracefully closer to the horizon, and let his lines trail out after him.
He told himself he’d stay away from Jewel’s place, and as dusk began to settle over the water, he kept good on his promise. But the wind blew from the south and pushed him toward her cove and he finally told himself he’d fish that part of the lake, but stay out of the cove water.
So he trolled back and forth, down the channels, avoiding the one turn that would take him near her place.
Then, he smelled smoke.
Someone burning leaves, no doubt, though the middle of summer was the wrong time of the year for that. No, this was wood smoke, making him think of chimneys and fireplaces. In ninety-eight-degree heat?
Standing up in his boat, he shaded his eyes with his hand. There, a thick plume of smoke. From one of the coves near the Pryor place.
There was nothing there to burn—except the Pryor place.
Jewel!
Starting the motor, he opened the throttle to full and took off across the lake.
As soon as he reached the cove, he realized his fears were well founded. Flames licked the roof of Jewel’s rental house. He punched 911 on his cell, spoke briefly to the operator, then closed the phone, steering into the cove.
Ramming the boat ashore, he tossed the anchor on land, jumped on it hard as he passed and took off up the embankment. Where was she? Had she gotten out?
The front door was locked, though he knew the frame was rickety. With no time to waste climbing in a window, he rammed the door with his shoulder. As he’d known it would, the dry wood splintered.
Instantly, a thick cloud of smoke billowed out, blinding him.
“Jewel!” he shouted her name. The fire was still confined to the back area, her kitchen and extra bedroom, though it wouldn’t be long before the entire house went up like the kindling it was.
Though the smoke threatened to blind him, he saw no sign of Jewel in the main room. He could only pray she hadn’t been in the kitchen.
Crouching low to the ground, he ran for the front bedroom. Jewel lay crumpled on the floor, unconscious.
Shouting her name again, he lifted her and, coughing and gasping for air, sprinted for the front door.
Outside, he collapsed on the ground, cushioning her with his body. As he reached to feel for a pulse, her chest heaved and she began coughing.
Behind them, the fire roared through the small frame house, engulfing it.
“Jewel.” He lifted her up, raising her chin to help her breathe. “Wake up.”
Slowly, her eyes opened, the vivid green clouded.
“Colton?” she murmured.
“Yeah.” He started to tell her that her house was on fire, but before he could, she murmured something unintelligible and kissed him.
