Circle on Home (Lost in a Boom Town Book 5) (32 page)

Mrs. Bonner stiffened and Noah wondered if she was going to turn away the invitation, but instead she put her arm around Jolie, too, and after thanking the Boysens profusely for looking after the "girls," she guided them out of the house, a sleepy Allison behind her.
 

Once outside, Miranda broke her embrace to turn to Noah.

"Are you going to be okay to drive home?" she asked, resting her hand on his chest.

"I'll be fine." He kissed her forehead. "I'll call you tomorrow. Or, later today."

She gave a rough laugh, which morphed into a cough in the smoke-filled air. "Can't. My phone is in there." She pointed to the house, where the flames were being battled back. "I guess I'll be replacing everything, again."

"At least you know where the good buys are."

"UPS man is going to have to learn a new address."

He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them before kissing her mouth and letting her go back to her mother, who had turned her head away at their display.
 

"Thanks for saving our lives," she called to him as she followed her mother to her car.

"Any time."

He didn't go back inside the Boysens after Miranda left, and after a few minutes, the lights went off in their house. He remembered too late that the kitten was still in there, but he'd retrieve her in the morning, take care of her until Miranda knew what she was going to do.

He watched the firefighters work and wondered what the hell had happened. Someone had set fire to the house? Why? To hurt the girls? Or to hurt him? And why hadn't the smoke alarms gone off?

He wandered over to where Trace stood by the pumper truck, wiping soot from his face.
 

"Total loss," Trace said without Noah asking. "It speaks volumes for the construction of the day that the part of the house over the kitchen hasn’t collapsed."

"The alarms didn't go off."

"That's what Wyatt said. What the hell?"

"I wish I knew. Damn, Trace, when I think what might have happened." He dropped to the curb and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck. If he hadn't been there, he girls could have died–a few more minutes and the smoke might have made them too weak to escape, too weak to reason the safest way out of the house. And if he'd died? What would become of Selena?

"Go home, man. Get some sleep. You've been a hero tonight." Trace clapped his shoulder and went back to work.

Chapter Eighteen

Miranda woke on the couch when her mother tiptoed through the living room on the way to the kitchen. A moment passed before the events of the night before came flooding back.
 

"Mom?"

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I was just checking on you."

"What time is it?" She looked toward the window, but the curtains were drawn and it was hard to see anything.

"It's after nine. Are you hungry?"

They'd gotten home and settled before four. She hoped Jolie was having better sleep in Miranda’s old bed.

Miranda pushed herself off the couch. "I could eat." She followed her mother to the kitchen on unsteady legs.

"It's a sign you should move back here," her mother said as she started the coffee.

Not this argument again. She was too tired. And the last thing she wanted was to live with her mom after making a home of her own. ”I’ll have to, for a bit. I don't know if there will be a lot of choices to rent, and I don't have the money just now anyway."

"Are you insured?"

"I am. I don't know about Jolie and Riley."

"And Noah? Is he living there, too?"

Miranda was actually surprised her mother hadn't posed this question last night. "No. Just spending the night."

Her mother's jaw tightened. "And now the entire town will know it."

Her mother had been fine with Miranda living with Damian. Miranda hated to think it was because of Noah. More likely, her mother let it slide because the neighbors didn't know. “I don't think it was much of a leap. Everyone knows we've been seeing each other again."

"Yes, but to see him coming out of your house in the middle of the night..."

"When his truck has been parked in front for the past week? Again. Not much of a leap. Or a big deal."

Her mother turned to her. "Not a big deal? Don't you see what happened? Who in this town do you know who would start a fire? Who has been in prison? His father, that's who."

Miranda's blood chilled. "What reason would he have to set fire to a house of three women he doesn’t even know? That’s a serious accusation, Mother.”

"He knows you."

"Not really. He knows of me. And again, why would he set fire to the house? He has no motive."

"Hate needs no motive, and he does have a history of violence against his wife.”

“And no history of arson. Mom. Don't go telling everyone that Rey Braun set this fire. You know he didn't. He had no reason to."
 

"Who does, then?"

That was a question Miranda had fallen asleep pondering. That Damian was one of the first names to pop in her mind scared the hell out of her. "I don't know. I don't know if Riley and Jolie could have pissed off someone, maybe an ex-boyfriend."

Her mother shook her head. "Enough that he'd try to kill all of you? I don't think so."

Miranda didn't, either. But she didn't know what else to think.

A knock at the front door surprised Miranda into looking at the clock over the back door. After nine, though, God, it felt earlier after a restless night. She crossed to the door, and saw Noah’s dark head in the window at the top of the door.
 

His timing wasn't great. But when had their timing ever been?

She opened the door and wrapped her arms around herself against the cool breeze that accompanied him. “Noah, what—?” And then she saw the carrier in his hand. “Skipper!” Her voice rose and carried as she held both hands out to take the carrier. “Oh, thank you. I didn't realize I’d left her behind until I got home and I didn't want to go back and disturb the Boysens.”

“I went and picked her up this morning.” He reached down for a couple of grocery bags. “I went by the office and picked up a few things for her. Where do you want them?”
 

He started to step inside, but Miranda moved in front of him, blocking him. She didn't want to have to deal with her mother and him, not when her mind was still so foggy.
 

The flick of pain in his eyes penetrated, and she did her best not to flinch.
 

“I just came to bring her. And to see if you’re okay.” He lifted a hand to her jaw, stroked lightly. “It was a hell of a night.”

“I don't think it’s all sunk in yet.” She extracted Skipper from the carrier and cuddled her against her shoulder. The kitten burrowed under her hair, thankfully not using her claws.
 

“You were very brave.”

“Me? I was in a total panic. You’re the one who got us out, all of us.”

“You remembered your kitten. I didn't even think about her.”

Miranda dropped a kiss to the top of Skipper’s head and was rewarded with a purr. “I may be scarred for life after that, though.”

He stroked a finger down the kitten’s spine. Funny how Miranda felt the caress as well. “You did good.” He met her gaze. “You need a ride to go get a new phone, or anything?”

She looked over her shoulder, knowing her mother was listening in the kitchen. “Um.Yeah. Not today, though. I’m just—I need to contact the insurance, make a list.
 
Maybe tomorrow?”
 

“We can do that.”

“Aren’t you tired?” She sagged against the door frame.
 

“I’ll be fine. I have some more stops to make. Call…ah, I’m going to need to get your home number, I guess.”

She crossed to her mother’s desk and picked up a pen, then held her hand out for his hand. She wrote the number on the palm of his hand, then smiled up at him.
 

He looked from the number to her. “Women really do that?”

She released his hand, a little embarrassed by his reaction to her playfulness. “I’ve seen women do it, but I’ve never done it before.”

He looked at the number again, then pulled out his phone and typed it in. “You have my number?”

She didn’t, actually. She angled her head and handed the pen to him. Without dropping her gaze, he lifted her palm and wrote his number, then punctuated it with a kiss.
 

“Call when you need me. Good morning, Mrs. Bonner.” He lifted a finger to his forehead in a salute, then turned to leave.

When he was gone, she put the kitten down and picked up the bags he’d left behind, seeing the cat food, dishes, litter and litter pan he’d thought to bring. She hadn't even remembered to get the kitten, she’d been so tired and in shock last night.
 

All she could think about right now was her mother’s objections to him, now and when she’d been a teenager. “You see? He’s nothing like his father.”

*****

The next few days were busy with replacing things like car locks–her car escaped too much damage, just a few dents from the fire trucks that had pushed it out of the way–and clothes and shoes. Miranda didn't feel right asking Noah to go with her to get a new phone, after all he’d done for her, so she, her mother, Allison and Jolie, who was still staying with them, went into San Marcos to buy a new one. Once it was activated, she sent him her new number, but didn't hear back.

She texted Jolie and Riley, who both responded immediately.

“We need to meet,” Riley said, and offered the bakery after it closed as a spot.

Jolie and Miranda arrived together and walked in as Riley was putting on a fresh pot of coffee.

“Flip the sign over to ‘CLOSED,’ will you?” she asked over her shoulder. "Help yourself to something from the case.” She dropped into a chair with a groan.

"I need a place to stay," Jolie was blunt. “As nice as Cindy has been, I hate imposing. And poor Miranda is sleeping on the couch and has no privacy.”

"I have Allison on it," Miranda said. "But we don’t have a lot of options, nothing as nice as that house. Have you heard anything from our landlords?"

"They're devastated," Riley said with a sigh, closing her hands around a coffee cup. "They put a lot of money into that house, a lot of work, and now it's all gone."

"Have you heard anything from Wyatt?" Jolie asked.

"Sheriff Trevino said they are talking to all the neighbors, but as they expected, everyone was asleep. No one saw anything, and no one has security video, though they might invest in that now. There's no history of arson in town, other than the time Greg Garson set fire to his trailer to get the insurance money. They can't think of anyone who would do this." She glanced at Miranda. "Well. Maybe one person. But without any proof or motive, they can't arrest him."

Miranda's spine snapped straight. "Has my mother been spreading that rumor?"

"What rumor?" Jolie asked.

Riley turned to their roommate. "There's speculation Noah's dad set the fire."

"Noah's dad? Why on earth would he?"

"That's the question. But he's been in prison, so he's the most likely suspect."

"Was he in prison for arson?" Jolie asked.

"Manslaughter," Miranda said quietly. When Jolie gasped, she added, "Drunk driving."

Jolie nodded and stared into her coffee cup. "That's a leap to arson."

"Agreed. I don't think he did it. Why would he?" Miranda asked.

"So who
do
you think did it?" Riley pressed, and her voice was harder than Miranda had heard it before.
 

Miranda shook her head. "I wish I knew."

“It has to be someone we know,” Riley said reasonably. “Why target that house in the middle of the block, instead of any of the other houses around?”

“Have you talked to Noah?”