Take a Chance on Me (26 page)

Ivy crouched next to him. “Are you okay, bud? We were so worried.”

“I fell.”

“I see that.” She took his hands. “We’ll get you cleaned up, make it all better.”

And then he launched himself into her arms. She held him there, rocking him. “It’s okay, buddy; we found you.”

His body was warm, his grip iron around her neck. She gripped him back just as tightly and stood, his legs going around her. Then she hiked down the trail carefully, feeling her way along the rutted surface.

She could hear the voices calling before she emerged from the trees, but she didn’t want to scare Tiger. So she waited until she reached the parking lot, spied John, and called, “I found him!”

John ran over to her, Casper and his flashlight waving erratically behind him. “Where was he?”

“At the dozer. On an adventure, right, bud?” She tried to meet Tiger’s eyes, but he had a pretty good hold on her.

Darek came running down the path. “You found him?”

“Ivy did,” Casper said. Grace had joined them, coming from the fire pit.

In the distance, Ivy thought she heard a siren. But it could just be in her head, in her heart.

Breathe, just breathe.

Darek reached her, bent to check Tiger.

The little boy lifted his hands. “I fell!”

Darek was breathing hard, but he kept his voice calm. “Where did you go? Daddy was so worried.”

Tiger leaned back in Ivy’s grip. “I went on an ’venture.”

“Buddy, you can’t do that. You could get hurt.”

Ivy had to admire how Darek kept his emotions, the ones playing across his face, out of his voice.

The siren grew louder. Ivy glanced at John. That wasn’t . . .

“Ivy followed my footsteps.” Tiger gave her a sloppy, wet grin.

“She did, huh?” Darek said. He looked at her with so much gratitude that she had no words. “Well, Ivy knows how to find lost little boys.”

“I wasn’t lost, Daddy. Next time, give me a map.”

“Okay, pal,” he said and pulled Tiger into his arms. He buried his face in the boy’s shoulder.

Ivy pressed a hand to Darek’s back. He was trembling.

And then the siren cut through the night, trumpeting into the parking lot with lights flashing.

Darek whirled around. “What . . . ?”

Amelia came bounding out of the house. “Oh, you found him!”

Butterscotch ran up, barking. Casper made a face.

John blew out a breath, shook his head. They all stood in tight silence as an officer got out of the cruiser.

Beside her, Darek sighed, a sound of defeat. “Hey, Kyle.”

“Darek. We got a 911 call about a missing child.”

“We got him,” Amelia said. “He just wandered off—”

Ivy didn’t know how it happened or why, just that suddenly
Darek’s future—her future—rose up in front of her and the words rushed out. Fast.

False.

“Actually, I’m so sorry, Officer. Tiger and I were just off on an adventure, and we forgot to tell the family.”

The officer, about her age, approached the group. Took a look at Tiger, who turned in his father’s arms. “That true, Tiger? You have an adventure?”

Bless his heart, the little boy nodded. “Ivy and me were at the dozer!”

Kyle laughed. “Okay. Well, Amelia made it sound like it was an emergency.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I panicked.”

“Next time I promise to tell you if Tiger and I go for a walk,” Ivy said.

“And you are?” Kyle asked.

Darek touched her shoulder. “This is Ivy Madison, my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

“Okay then. I’ll call it in as a false alarm. You folks have a nice night,” Kyle said.

No one moved as they watched him leave, his lights disappearing into the night.

“Girlfriend?” Casper said when he turned and glanced at Darek. “Finally.” He leaned over and gave Ivy a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, Ivy League.”

Family.
She stood there as they headed back to the house, reveling in a feeling like marshmallows, hot and gooey, filling all her empty spaces.

IVY WOULD SIMPLY SNEAK
into her paralegal’s office as soon as the janitor unlocked the courthouse, under the cover of early morning shadows, and remove the file from Jodi’s desk. Certainly she hadn’t looked at it yet. Not this early on a Monday morning.

And certainly she wouldn’t have received any follow-up report from the Deep Haven sheriff’s department about a 911 call regarding a lost child at Evergreen Resort.

The thought, however, had Ivy by the throat.

Along with the fact that she’d lied.
Lied.
To the
police
. At the time, the words rose up and slipped out, as easy as a summer breeze, natural and fresh.

Tiger and I were just off on an adventure, and we forgot to tell the family.

Now every word of that sentence felt like a land mine, and they’d begun exploding shortly after the glow of Darek’s words wore off.

This is Ivy Madison, my girlfriend.

He hadn’t mentioned it again after the cop pulled out of the parking lot. Darek had held Tiger long enough for him to wiggle out in protest. He reluctantly handed his son to Amelia, who took Tiger off to clean him up and tuck him into bed.

Darek drove Ivy home. In silence.

But the word
girlfriend
thundered between them.

That word had turned her hot, glued any response to her chest, made her long to look in his eyes, maybe dismiss the rumble inside that had begun to churn.

And then he’d reached across the seats and taken her hand.

He’d kissed her again on the porch, much of the evening’s emotion—fear, panic, relief—in his touch, and she hung on, feeling the same thing. It helped her forget herself and her colossally stupid words long enough to stand at the door and wave good-bye.

Sort of like a girlfriend.

Only as he drove out of the driveway did the magnitude of her lie roar to life inside her head. The scenarios replaying in her brain consumed her for the remainder of the weekend. Loud enough for her to turn off her cell phone, avoid Facebook, and dive into an old John Grisham novel.

She might have gotten through two chapters.

Mostly, she just plotted what she might say should Diane appear at her office on Monday with a copy of the 911 dispatch in her hand.

Was Ivy at Darek’s house this weekend? Um . . .

Yes, Deep Haven had become a microdot.

And so much for staying impartial. Ivy had taken sides,
practically set up camp on Christiansen turf the moment the lie exited her mouth.

She’d never thought she would leap so high and fast over that line of ethics.

But Darek didn’t deserve to lose his son, and perhaps only she knew it. Only she knew that the right and just action would be to get the complaint dropped.

Ivy caught her reflection in the glass and grimaced as she pushed through the doors of the courthouse. She looked like she’d pulled an all-nighter at the U of M law library cramming for an exam, half-moons of worry under her eyes, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, wearing a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. But she’d just get in, take the file, and lock it in her desk drawer. Then—okay, she was a coward—she’d call in sick.

She felt sick.

Deathly ill, actually.

By the time she came in tomorrow and gave the file to Jodi, Ivy would be able to get ahold of DJ—didn’t he say he’d be reachable by Tuesday? DJ knew Darek and his family. He’d remind Diane of that and deny the emergency removal.

And Darek would never know how close he’d come to losing Tiger.

Or rather, Ivy wouldn’t be forced to choose between Darek and her job. Darek and Deep Haven. Darek . . . and . . .

Girlfriend.

Yes, her entire world turned complicated on that word.

The hush of the morning was broken by her flip-flops as she dashed across the floor to her inner offices.

Nancy’s desk by the door was cleaned off, dark. Of course, Ivy’s office door remained closed. Thankfully, so did Jodi’s.

Just as she’d left it on Friday at 5:37 p.m.

She beelined for Jodi’s office and knocked, just in case.

Nothing.

She eased the door open. Light streamed in through a side window across Jodi’s clean desk—the calendar, the closed laptop, the black in- and out-boxes, the files . . .

Ivy stilled. The Christiansen file wasn’t on top. She picked up the small stack, looked through each one.

Nothing.

Maybe she’d put it in the out-box by mistake.

No.

She stood there, her heart in her throat. Jodi must have come in over the weekend and—

“We’ll get the paperwork moving as soon as Ivy signs the order for emergency removal.”

Ivy froze, a bandit caught in bright lights. Diane’s voice. And then Jodi’s.

“I’m glad you called me.”

Ivy didn’t even have the sense to move behind the door or affect a casual, yes-I’m-supposed-to-be-here pose.

After all, where exactly could she run? Hide under the desk? Oh no, that wouldn’t look suspicious.

So she just stood there as Jodi entered.

“I thought I closed—oh, hi.”

Ivy forced a smile. Managed to look like she might belong there. In her yoga pants.

Casual day.

“Hi, Jodi. I’m glad to see you in so early. I came by to check on a file.”

Diane had come in behind her. “Ivy. Great, you’re here. Jodi did the research on the Christiansen case over the weekend.”

“Oh . . . good.”

Jodi handed her the file. “Are you looking for this one? It’s the complaint you left on my desk Friday. I’m sorry I didn’t get to it—I had to leave early.”

Diane raised an eyebrow.

“No problem,” Ivy said. She took the file. Could barely read it, her throat so thick she thought she might drop right there, asphyxiating.

Breathe.

But just as she feared, Jodi had written a sound recommendation for temporary removal of Tiger from Darek’s custody. She’d even drawn up the petition for the emergency protective services order.

“And you’re recommending the child be placed with his grandparents?” Ivy said, her voice soft. Hopefully it came off solemn and not as if a cleaver sliced through her chest.

“Yes. There will be an emergency hearing in seventy-two hours to determine further action.”

Ivy just stared at the complaint, listening to the roar in her ears, seeing Darek’s eyes when he’d emerged from the woods and seen her with Tiger.

He might not live through this.

“All you have to do is sign it, Ivy. Jodi can notarize it, I’ll fax it to Judge Magnusson’s office, and they’ll add it to her docket this morning.”

Ivy didn’t move.

“Ivy—”

“He’s not in danger,” Ivy said softly.

“And you know that because . . . ?” Diane asked, her voice soft
despite the words. “You know you have to recuse yourself because of Darek. And because you were there this weekend when Kyle responded to the 911 call.”

She closed her eyes.

“Kyle mentioned it in church yesterday. I’m sorry, honey, but this is a small town.”

So small it just might strangle her.

“If you don’t sign it, I’ll have to bring this to someone who can—and will—in Duluth. And then Tiger might not end up with his grandparents, but in an emergency group home. Who knows what will happen after that.”

“This is wrong.”

“This is the system. And if Darek deserves Tiger, he’ll get him back. Don’t let your emotions cost you your job. Or cost Darek his son.”

Girlfriend.
The word lodged in Ivy’s throat and cut off her breathing as she signed the petition.

Jodi notarized it and handed it to Diane. The social worker stood at the door for a moment. “Go get cleaned up. You have to represent your petition in court in an hour.”

Not if Ivy left town first.

The air thickened the farther north Darek drove on Forest Route 153, like a fog descending upon the land, blotting out vision even as his headlights cut through the smoky layers. Only late afternoon and it looked like nightfall.

Just ten miles north of Evergreen Lake, the northern boreal forest resembled a war zone—and smelled it, too, the acrid, sooty air pricking his nose, stinging his eyes.

How easily the misery—and triumph—of working on the hand crews returned to him. The gritty, bone-tiring work that seemed endless as crews assaulted the forest, cutting down shaggy conifers, maple and myrtle, scouring the earth down to the mineral soil and then drip-lighting the once-towering forest, back-burning to quench the assault of the fire. He effortlessly conjured the buzz of chain saws, the rattle of bulldozers chewing away the forest, the crackle of the fire, burning just beyond the edge of trees as an occasional drift of spray from the hose line drenched hot spots that jumped over the line.

It always felt like righteous work, backbreaking but honest, and seeing Jed methodically map out the fire line every morning on the lodge kitchen table stirred a military camaraderie inside Darek.

But Casper’s words about additional crews had finally made him climb into his Jeep for an updated incident report. Especially since Jed had moved to the camp, leaving the cabins for the pilots and supervisors who either headed out to the airport or down to the forest service office in Deep Haven every morning.

His mother held Tiger’s hand as Darek drove away, and for a moment, he’d seen Felicity, Tiger at her shoulder, watching him exactly the same way.

He’d left three messages on Ivy’s phone yesterday, and frankly if she didn’t call him back soon, he intended to head to town, track her down.

See if he’d scared her off with his use of the word
girlfriend
.

He let it settle into the hollow places and discovered it didn’t sting.
Girlfriend.

And maybe, someday,
mother
.
Wife.

Okay, wait—he breathed away the tightness in his chest but let the word linger just a bit.

Wife.

Yeah, maybe.

He turned left onto a now-well-carved fire service road. Traces of recent use scarred the trail—broken tree limbs, the tread of hotbox trucks hauling equipment into base.

The road opened into a meadow the size of a couple football fields, an old pasture now turned into a small city of two- and four-man pup tents lined up in rows against the edge of the forest. A row of porta-potties on the opposite edge evidenced the nod toward sanitation, as did the makeshift showers set up with tarps and five-gallon hanging bags of water warmed only by the sun. The showers weren’t meant to soothe but to scrape off a layer or two of the ash and soot embedded in a fire bum’s skin after a week on the line. Real clean came only on R & R away from camp.

A lineup of grimy yellow-shirted men and women stood outside a window cut into the tractor-trailer-size mobile kitchen unit, looking miserable, exhausted, and battle worn. They carried plates of food to mobile picnic tables under a giant military-style tent that suggested a modicum of protection and relief from the blazing sun.

Darek had always preferred to eat his meals in the open air, the heat and odors of too many ripe bodies conspiring to steal his appetite.

Along the rear of the trailer were maps duct-taped to the side, next to whiteboards with weather and incident updates, all protected by a long yellow tarp, propped at lengths with poles.

Darek parked in the grass, finding a space beside a beater pickup amid the forty or so other vehicles, and climbed out, adjusting his cap. He felt a bit naked without his orange hard hat, his yellow NFS shirt. And nothing of soot on his face.

He found Jed standing with a woman wearing a bandanna tied over her long, dark hair, a pair of aviator sunglasses protecting her eyes. They were staring at a map of the area as she ran her finger along a red line drawn in wax pencil.

Darek stepped up to the map, his breath catching at how the fire had grown, how close the red line came to the edge of his family’s property. He must have made a noise because Jed turned.

“Hey, Dare. Good to see you. I was hoping to stop by and thank your mom for all the cookies.”

“She made more. They’re in the Jeep.”

“God bless her. This is Katie Whipple—we call her Whip. She’s got a fire management degree, is working on one of the crews.” He turned back to the map.