Page 56 of Up in Smoke

“I was given presents, even as a child. I just was expected to be a little lady. I wasn’t supposed to be tearing into anything. I guess they thought I’d develop destructive tendencies because I’m a hybrid.”

“If you want to scratch up my couch, as long as I can play with your fur, I’m willing to sacrifice a few couches,” he replied.

My fox enjoyed the thought of him playing with my fur, and I wasn’t far behind her in terms of general interest in his attention. Giggling at the thought of being rewarded for destroying couches, I found a fold in the paper, grabbed it, and ripped. A shoebox depicting a new pair of leather ankle-high work boots lurked beneath the paper, and I opened the box to discover Frankie had somehow gotten me a pair of boots, and a quick check of the tag showed she’d remembered my shoe size.

My throat tightened, and I eased the first of the boots out, stroking the dark leather and admiring the sturdy construction. “How did she even get these?”

“That’s a good question.” Sandro tilted the box to check the brand. “In the East, those boots probably cost at least three hundred—at least. Here? Yeah. These boots are worthy of an inheritance. Hell, I’m amazed she got a pair here. And in your size?”

“But I didn’t do anything to deserve this, Sandro.”

“Were you friendly with her? Give her hugs? Cover her shifts? Give her shifts when she needed it?”

“Well, yeah. That’s part of what we did there. I’d always offer to help. That’s just the right thing to do.”

“And did you talk to her?”

I nodded. “I guess. I mean, that’s why I thought her husband had died somewhat recently. She talked about him all the time.”

“Sounds like you were the friend of a lonely old woman, Jade. And in my experience, there’s little lonely old women appreciate more than a genuine friend. You’re not the kind to tell lies and polite nothings. She would have known that. I mean, it only took me a short time observing you to realize you don’t do anything in half-measures. When you become someone’s friend, you’re their friend. And you didn’t mind her talking about her husband, did you?”

“I didn’t mind at all. She had so many interesting stories to tell.”

“And she shared them with you. So, in a way, she got to revisit her time with the love of her life. You’re the reason she could do that. As such, it seems pretty simple to me.”

“It’s not that simple!”

“Why can’t it be that simple?”

I blinked, staring at the boots for a long moment before turning to face him. “Do you think that’s it? That little of a thing?”

“Even small kindnesses can heal hearts, Jade. But that’s why your magic is so potent in New Orleans. You embody kindness—and there? That kindness sings. You didn’t even hesitate to dedicate six months of your life to go there, and the instant you found out it was to help save that city? If you had any doubts, they disappeared. You can, so you will. But those boots will look amazing on you, and they’ll be great for your travels—and if they wear out, we can replace them with the same exact boot, too.” He smiled. “But of course, those worn boots will end up being saved in a closet, won’t they?”

I nodded, smiled, and returned the boots to their box. “Do you really think I made that much of a difference to her?”

“Judging from the dates and labels on some of these film rolls? I know so.”

I eyed the neat rows of rolls on the coffee table. “What do you mean?”

“At least half of them are before her husband’s death, and his name are on them. She gave you her memories of him. And I’ll make sure we can get them developed when we go back to the East. Maybe I didn’t know her, but I’ll see that done because I can.”

Huh. “I guess the newer rolls were on top, then?”

“Yeah, she’d put them in chronological order from the looks of it. I suspect the ones without his name on them are the important ones. There are a few of those left.”

I closed the boot box and set it aside, grabbing a present wrapped in red, which proved to be startling heavy. I set it on my lap, and with more care than I had with the boots, I removed the paper, revealing a carved wooden box featuring a rearing horse with a pole in its mouth and tangled in its forelegs. “Oh, this is beautiful, Sandro.”

“That’s a Colt box,” he said, his eyes widening.

“A what box?”

“Colt. It’s a brand of firearm. The brand still exists, although it tends to be the domain of law enforcement or enthusiasts.” Sandro leaned closer for a better look. “I don’t know if the box is original or not, but it’s gorgeous, and that’s definitely Colt’s logo.”

“How did Frankie get anything dealing with guns here?”

“I’m going to guess the same place she got those boots; she knew somebody out in the East and paid somebody a lot of money to get it to her. You can’t take money to the grave, and how better to protect somebody than to give them a gun? And a gun like this wouldn’t even trip triggers. They’re antiques. They’re damned good antiques if they work. And what better a gift to someone who wanders than a way to defend herself?”

“That’s one hell of a gift,” I murmured, checking all sides of the box and identifying the front by a flip clasp I could secure if I found a small enough lock. I lifted it up and opened the lid.