“I never talked about my family because it’s a bleak story. I like to think the past doesn’t have any power over me.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“No.”
An understanding smile twisted Ann’s lips as she set the chili and the remaining biscuits on the table, along with salt and pepper shakers and pepper jack cheese. Nate and Kyle came hurrying into the room and took their seats across from Joan. Ann sat at the head of the table. Once each had been served a healthy portion, Joan realized how hungry she was.
Joan took her first bite and almost moaned with pleasure. “This is amazing. I can’t remember the last time I ate real food.”
“They don’t have real food where you live?” Nate asked.
“They do. I’m just not good at finding it. I live on Chinese takeout, street pizza, and hot dogs.”
“Why?” Kyle asked.
“I’m busy. I don’t slow down much.”
“What do you do?” he asked.
“I’m a homicide detective.” Fingers crossed she would remain one after the suspension.
Kyle’s interest was piqued, and she sensed she had gained a few points with him. “My dad’s a detective, too,” he said.
“Really?” In college, whenever Joan and Gideon had spoken of potential professions, he had always talked about working on his father’s ranch. Law enforcement had never crossed either of their minds. It was ironic that both Gideon and she were now cops.
“Yep, he’s one of the best in the state,” the boy said with pride.
That was not a surprise. Gideon always gave whatever he did 100 percent. “What grade are you two in?”
“Fifth,” Kyle said.
“But I’m also going to audit a class at the college,” Nate said.
“It’s an experiment we’re trying,” Ann said.
“That’s saying something for a ten-year-old,” Joan said. At ten, school and reading had been her safe place. Though she’d made A’s, she’d never had a desire to hurry through the grade levels.
“I want to skip middle school and high school and go to college full-time next year, but Mom won’t let me,” Nate said.
Ann sipped her wine. “There’s plenty of time for that. But you also need to be a kid.”
“I want to be a neurosurgeon,” Nate said.
Of course he did. “Was rocket scientist too tame?”
That coaxed a faint smile from the boys. “Humans are more interesting than machines. More complex.”
“I’ve often said the same.” Joan was tempted to refill her glass, but if she kept up this pace, tomorrow would be rough. She reached for her water glass instead. “Your mom wanted to be a medical doctor. She was accepted at several places.”
His brow furrowing, Nate looked at his mother as he processed what appeared to be a new piece of information. “Why didn’t you go?”
“Because I decided to stay here,” Ann said. “I like being close to Grandma and Grandpa.”
“Is it because you got pregnant with me?” Nate asked.
It did not take a math genius to backdate his conception to his parents’ wedding. “That was part of the reason. And for the record, I made the right choice.”
Nate’s frown deepened as Kyle asked, “May we build the fire now?”
“Finish your chili and then put your plates in the sink,” Ann said.
The boys quickly finished their meals and hurried their dishes into the kitchen. Seconds later, the back door opened and then slammed closed.
“You let them build the fire alone?” Joan asked.
“Yes. But I’m there when they light it.”
“In my neighborhood, fires are contained to grills,” Joan said. “And even then, I keep my distance.”
She glanced out the window and watched as the boys rushed toward the stone firepit with armloads of wood. Both worked together to place kindling in the bottom and build a tripod of wood over it.
“My father says any self-respecting cowboy knows how to handle a fire.”
Shifting away from the subject, she asked, “Is Nate really ready for high school, let alone college?”
“Intellectually,” she said. “He’s still a kid, and I’m trying to give him as normal a life as possible. But he needs the academic stimulation, so he’s auditing a class this fall to keep him engaged.”
“Clarke on board with this?”
“He’s for whatever is good for Nate.” Ann set her napkin down by her half-empty bowl. “It’s nice outside tonight. Let’s have another glass outside.”
Joan ate the last of her buttered biscuit. “I shouldn’t, but I will.”
Ten minutes later, they were on the porch, and she was sitting in a wooden rocker. Nate and Kyle’s logs would have made any Boy Scout proud. Ann handed a flint lighter to each boy and took a step back, watching closely as they lit the kindling tucked in the center. The blaze caught quickly among the carefully placed logs.
Joan eased back in her chair and firmly planted her feet on the ground. Tension rippled up her body as the heat from the flames warmed her.
Ann took the chair beside her. “You okay?”
“Sure, I’m fine.”
“Joan, I’m a psychologist,” she said softly so Nate couldn’t hear. “You’re uncomfortable.”
“I’m tired. Been burning the candle at both ends, no pun intended.”
“Can I get more wood?” Nate asked.
“Sure,” Ann said. “But we won’t be out here more than an hour. It’s been a long day.”
“Understood,” he said before the boys set off in search of wood.
Ann watched as Nate and Kyle vanished into the shadows. “We’ve never talked about the College Fire.”
“It was a near miss for us both. We should count our lucky stars.” She tucked her feet in, trying to be relaxed and casual as the fire consumed the wood. She was not in the mood for a counseling session about PTSD or phobias.
“Fire makes you nervous,” Ann said.
“No wonder, given my history,” Joan said.
“I didn’t notice it in college, but Clarke did. He said you always kept your distance at the bonfires.”
“We all have our quirks.” She heard the boys arguing about which types of wood to collect. Kyle’s theories about the proper wood-to-burn ratios were as strong as Nate’s. “They’re having fun.”
“Nate hasn’t seen Kyle all summer, and he’s missed
