He saw Jed raise an eyebrow, maybe in warning, but the flashover came quick and hot.
“Really. So tell me, have you ever seen a peat fire? It’s underground like the fires of hell and can burn for months, even years—under pavement, under houses, under vast acres of land. Even under the snow, surviving until spring, when it comes back to life. When it’s that deep, it destroys tree roots and soil; the only things that will grow after a peat fire are thistles and briars. Peat is hard to ignite but nearly impossible to put out. We have about six million acres of peatland up here, in dried swamp and old, overgrown marshes. And guess what Dick Lake is?” He pointed to the map, on the south end of the lake. “A marsh. At least on this end. So if you want to turn the northern shore of Minnesota into one giant ember, ignore everything I have to say and drive the fire back that way.”
She just blinked at him, her jaw taut.
Beside Darek, Jed took a deep breath. “Dare used to be one of the Jude County Hotshots, Whip.”
Her mouth tightened to a thin line. “Sorry.”
The apology nudged Darek a little from the crazy darkness that had risen and gripped him. Maybe she hadn’t deserved all that—no, for sure she hadn’t deserved all that.
In fact, just when he thought he’d licked it, maybe he had a peat fire of his own smoldering inside. He took a breath. Forced a smile. “Listen, it’s not a bad idea to try to cut off the fire here. I’m just saying, for backup—”
“I’ve got a Beaver taking off in about thirty minutes to scout the fire and the lay of the land. Why don’t you join me and Whip?” Jed said.
Behind Darek, a truck had pulled up, and a few newly outfitted warriors climbed in the back, headed out to the line.
Join them.
Or . . . or he could go home to Tiger, finish dozing. Then he and his son could motor down to Deep Haven, find Ivy, maybe head over to Licks and Stuff. Not that he didn’t care about the fire, but . . .
Girlfriend. He stared at the map, the markings, Jed’s grubby raccoon face, the distant glow of fire even at the apex of the day, and suddenly it vanished. The coating of regret, the simmer of frustration inside. As if someone had reached in and stirred up that peat fire, only to douse it with something fresh and clean.
Ivy. He saw her holding Tiger on Saturday night, saw her standing up to Kyle and the way she looked at Darek when he kissed her. Wide eyes, that sweet smile.
He could give her the home she’d never had, build a future with her. And they could be a family.
“No. I gotta get home.” He clapped Jed on his shoulder. “You got this.” He glanced at Whip. “Be safe.”
She nodded. “Thanks for the input.” Her face seemed to relax then, a smile at the edges. “I’ll keep your idea in mind.”
He returned to the Jeep and retrieved his mother’s cookies, left them on the table in front of the maps. Jed waved to him, his radio out.
And then Darek was heading home, away from the fire, the clatter of the camp, the lure of the past. As he drove south, the lake fanned out before him, a glorious blue, fingers of sunlight cutting through the smoke to caress the earth.
Maybe he’d take Ivy out in a canoe to the middle of Evergreen Lake, tell her about the time he’d caught a walleye as big as his arm. Or the time he and Casper had gone bear hunting for the first time. Or when he and Jensen—
Jensen.
Yeah, maybe he’d tell her about Jensen and how, once upon a time, they’d had a friendship closer than brothers. How he did stare across the lake sometimes, at Jensen’s house, just as his mother accused him of.
How, sometimes, the urge to let it all go, to forgive, seemed so big it could consume him. Yes, he’d tell her that, too. Not that Darek would forgive him, but . . . what if he did?
What if being with Ivy turned over a fresh grace inside?
He turned down his road, smiling. She could do that—help him forgive, help him start over.
He slowed as he came into the parking area, a sweetness stirring in him when he saw her Pathfinder. So she’d gotten his messages. He imagined her sitting in the kitchen with his mother, maybe trying out one of Grace’s newest recipes.
But then, beside her car, he noticed . . . a cruiser?
He parked, shut off his Jeep. Climbed out. And that’s when he heard them.
“You can’t take him without letting him say good-bye—”
“Don’t make this harder than it is—”
“Just cooperate, John, please—”
“Mr. Christiansen, I promise we’ll get this figured out—”
“Wait for Darek—”
“I want my daddy!”
Darek took off in a full-out run toward the house. The voices came from around the rear, so he took the path to the deck.