trying to quell the nausea that refused to go away. If only they would let her go inside. Perhaps she’d find out things weren’t as bad as they seemed.
The loud rumble of the fire engine filled her ears as firemen traipsed back and forth, returning hoses to their trucks. Carly eyed her gauze-wrapped hand. At least it didn’t sting anymore. The smell of smoke would be forever seared into her memory, though. Not to mention the heat of those flames.
Tilting her head toward the cloud-dotted sky, she blinked back tears. Save for a few years, she’d spent her entire life at Granger House. It was more than her home...it was family. An integral part of her heritage. Now she could only pray that the whole thing wasn’t a loss. Even insurance couldn’t replace that.
But what if it was a total loss? What would she do then?
“Can I get you anything? Are you warm enough?” The feel of Andrew’s hand against the small of her back was a comfort she hadn’t known in a long time. From the moment he appeared on the scene, Andrew had yet to leave her side. For once, she was grateful for his take-charge attitude. His presence was an unlikely calm in the midst of her storm.
“No, thank y—”
“Oh, my!”
Carly turned to see Rose Daniels, a family friend and owner of The Alps motel. Hand pressed against her chest, the white-haired woman studied the carnage. Beside her, Hillary Ward-Thompson, a former resident who’d recently returned, appeared every bit as aghast.
Carly knew exactly how they felt.
The dismay in Rose’s blue eyes morphed into compassion as she shifted her attention to Carly, her arms held wide. “I came as soon as I heard.” She hugged Carly with a strength that belied her eighty years. “You poor dear. Are you all right?”
She nodded against the older woman’s shoulder, tears threatening again, but she refused to give in. She needed to stay strong.
After a long moment, Rose released her into Hillary’s waiting embrace.
“I hate that this happened to you.” Hillary stepped back, looking the epitome of chic with her perfectly styled short blond hair and silky tunic. Then again, Carly wouldn’t expect anything less from the former globe-trotting exec.
“How can we help, dear?” Rose shoved her wrinkled hands into the pockets of her aqua Windbreaker. “Just tell us what you need.”
“Besides food, that is,” Hillary was quick to add. “Celeste has already talked to Blakely and Taryn. They’re planning to bring you dinner.” Her daughter, Celeste Purcell, owned Granny’s Kitchen.
Carly hated that she’d added to their already hectic lives. “They don’t have to—”
“Nonsense, darling.” Hillary waved a hand through the air. “That’s what people do in Ouray. You know that.”
All too well. She’d been on the receiving end when Dennis died. Since then, she was usually the one to spearhead donations. A role she was much more comfortable with.
“There’s also a room for you at The Alps should you and Megan need a place to stay,” said Rose.
Carly felt her knees go weak. In the chaos, she’d forgotten all about Megan. What kind of mother did that? How would her daughter react? Would she be scared? Sad?
Andrew moved behind her then. Placed his warm, strong hands on her shoulders. “Thank you, Rose, but that won’t be necessary. Carly and Megan can stay in my grandmother’s house if need be.”
Hillary’s gaze zeroed in on Andrew. “Do I know you?”
Andrew shook his head. “I don’t believe so.” He extended his hand. “Andrew Stephens.”
The woman Carly suspected to be somewhere around sixty cautiously accepted the offer. “Hillary Ward-Thompson.” She let go, still scrutinizing Andrew. “You wouldn’t be related to Clint Stephens, by any chance?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s my father.”
Hillary’s espresso eyes widened for a split second. “You favor him a great deal.”
“So I’ve been told.” Seemingly distracted, Andrew shot a glance toward the house before peering down at Carly. “It looks like the chief might be ready to talk with you.”
“We won’t keep you, dear.” Rose’s smile was a sad one as she moved forward for another hug. “I’ll touch base with you later. Until then—” she let go “—you’re in my prayers.” Turning to leave, she patted Andrew on the arm. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Thanks, Rose. So am I.”
Carly was glad, too. Without him, she’d be curled up in a corner somewhere, bawling like a baby, clueless about what to do or where to turn. But why was he glad?
As the two women continued down the sidewalk, Ouray’s fire chief, Mike Christianson, approached. “Good to see you again, Andrew.” The two men briefly shook hands.
“You, too, Mike. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”
Carly swallowed hard as her former schoolmate turned his attention to her. Now married with three kids, Mike was a good guy. She knew he wouldn’t sugarcoat anything. Though the harsh reality was what she feared the most.
His features softened as his weary green eyes met hers. “The good news is that the fire never made it to the second floor.”
Her shoulders relaxed. That meant her guest rooms were okay. But what about her and Megan’s rooms on the first floor? The kitchen, parlor and family room?
“Most of the damage was confined to the kitchen and family room.”
“How bad?” She absently rubbed her arms.
He hesitated, his gaze momentarily falling to the ground before bouncing back to hers. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to stay here for a while, let alone host any guests. Kitchen is a complete loss.”
So far, Carly had managed to keep her nausea in check. Right about now, though, she was quickly losing that battle. She didn’t know which was worse—not being able to stay at Granger House or not hosting any guests. No guests meant no income, but to have her home taken from her...
Where was that oxygen mask?
As though sensing she needed help, Andrew slipped his arm around her while he addressed Mike. “Do you know what caused the fire?”
Mike nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. “As most often happens, it was a cooking fire.”
Confused, Carly shook her head. “Cooking? But I wasn’t—Oh, no.” She felt her eyes widen. Stumbled backward, but Andrew held her tight. Her hand flew to her mouth, horror flooding her veins. “The chicken.” The earth swirled beneath her. Sweat gathered on her upper lip. “I forgot.” She looked at Mike without really seeing him. “And I went to the bank.”
A churning vortex of emotions whirled inside her. A feeling she’d experienced only one other time in her life. The night she learned
