Page 67 of Red Hot Harmony

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a child.”

“I’m not a child.”

“Yes, you are!” My hands were tight fists. Ally was the undressed one, but I was shaking. “You are my child and I’m trying to protect you.”

My emotions raged. If I’d still had any doubt about being a failure up to now, it was gone, defeat and disappointment burning in its wake.

I didn’t know how to do this.

I didn’t know how to get through to her.

My head was pounding and I felt bereft and helpless and alone.

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Ally snapped. “I need you to understand me.”

That hit very close to home.

“In a few years, you’re going to regret this,” I said in a calmer voice because screaming never seemed to work. “And I’m not paying for removing it.”

“I won’t need to remove it, because I won’t regret it. I’m not you.”

The logical thing to do was to help Ally find something else to wear, but I was so mad that I couldn’t stand being near her right now.

Distance felt like something necessary. I was scared to say the wrong thing, to hurt her, to break our brittle relationship beyond repair.

I stepped out of the bathroom, closed the door, and went to find Harper. He took the news much better than I had and offered to handle the dress issue. I let him.

Once he left for the house, I made my way to the front yard and tried to find a spot where I’d get at least one bar. My attempts led me to the property entrance, where I stood with my arm in the air, phone clenched between my fingers.

The entire western side of the sky was now dark as the smoke crawled toward the bright circle of sun that was slipping beyond the horizon. The air smelled undeniably like ash, and a few flakes fell across my shoulders.

In the distance, a siren howled. Then I heard the rumble of a vehicle. The ground beneath me shook a little as the approaching noise grew louder, intensified.

I dropped my arm to my side, momentarily forgetting about Dante. There was a fire truck clambering up the street. The siren was off now, but the lights remained on and the entire road looked like a crime scene from a movie, colored by spinning reds.

A thought flashed through my mind. Maybe Dante wasn’t chickening out on me at the last minute. Maybe he was late because of the closures.

The truck rolled past me, one of the firefighters giving me a wave. Then they stopped by the curb, farther down the street, and the lights were still dancing across the grass and trees and slopes.

“Is there a fire nearby?” I asked as I approached.

The one who’d just acknowledged me hopped down to the ground and nodded. He looked to be in his forties with a dark tan and sharp eyes.

“A small one on the other side of the hill,” he explained.

“Do we need to evacuate?”

“No, but you should monitor the emergency service websites and be ready. Have your things packed. Do you have livestock?”

I shook my head.

“Good.”

“Where’s all this smoke coming from? Ojai?”

“Thousand Oaks. There’s a huge fire there near Arroyo Conejo. Been burning since last weekend. Getting too close to the freeway.”

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