Page 78 of Buried Roots

I hold my breath and sprint into the crumbling mess, beyond terrified of how I’m going to find Owen. My skin is so hot it’s unbearable, but I push on.

Then, through the charcoal haze, I see him running toward the stable doors, his arms covered with black hair.

He’s carrying Oreo. The foal’s eyes are open, and as soon as we’re safely out from under the falling debris, I run up to take the horse because Owen’s clearly struggling for air.

“Where’s Eclipse?” Owen squeaks out.

“I don’t know.” My throat is raw. “I couldn’t find her anywhere.”

The fire trucks now surround the stables, and firefighters run with hoses. The barn remains untouched, and I exhale. At least the goats are safe.

Kayla appears, shaking when she says, “Ma’s with Trinity. Bailey’s talking to the police. They’re all worried sick.”

“We’re okay, the goats are okay, but we’re still looking for the horses.” I take off running again, and when I see a flash of white galloping in the distance, I gush out a breath.

Eclipse is running, frantic, and when she sees Oreo, she lets out a harrowing neigh. Oreo’s clearly weak and dizzy, but Owen tells me we just need to get him fresh air and water, so we take him to the lake.

When the blaze is out with the barn spared, the firefighters surround us. Owen tells the marshal everything we know—that we came home to the house ablaze and the stables burning. All the horses made it out.

Somehow, I’m devastated, but at the same time, more grateful than I’ve ever been in my life that Owen is okay. That the horses are okay.

No, all that remains of the house is a pile of charred and splintered wood, shattered windows, and ashes. Owen puts a hand on my shoulder and says, “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” When I look at him, I see a man covered in black soot with patches of red on his arms and legs. “You’re burned.”

“It’s superficial.”

“You should still get checked out. Burns cause infections.”

“I know.”

That’s right—hedoesknow.

The paramedics look him over and insist he go to the hospital, but he refuses to take the ambulance.

I cut in, “Come on. I’ll drive you.”

As we’re on our way, Owen texts all his family. His sisters are beside themselves with worry, and Frankie is doing anything and everything to make sure the horses are taken care of for the night. Plus, she’s got to make sure Trinity stays in the house.

“I can’t believe you did that, Owen.” I glance at him as I keep my hands on the wheel. “Or rather, I can’t believe anyone would do that.”

“I had no choice.”

“The fact that you believe that says everything about you.” I glance at him again, this time with adoration. But I stop myself because I can’t go there—Ihaveto return to New York. For good. All of this is a wake-up call, and I wasn’t being logical or realistic when I thought I could stay with Owen here in Violet Moon.

I mean, what now? What in the hell am I going to do now?

Flashes of everything hit my mind like acid rain. My contract with the city of Violet Moon. All the hopes and dreams I had for the place. All our restoration work on the irreplaceable fixtures and chandeliers. The precious library of books, gone. Everything!

After Owen grabs a cloth out of the glove compartment and runs it over his face, he touches my shoulder. “Where did you go? I lost you.”

“I’m here.” I run a finger over a singed piece of his hair, wishing I could say I willalwaysbe here. But that’s not true. Our lives are too different. I have a million and one problems, and I don’t have a place to call home, not with a family like he does. And I never will. So, I say the one thing I can. “I’ve got your back.” And now, with some of the soot off his face, I can see he’s lost all his facial hair. “Your goatee, your eyebrows, and even your lashes. They’re all gone. Your beautiful lashes.”

His lips tick up. “My sisters always tell me they’re jealous of them. I guess I fixed that.”

I can’t laugh. I can’t find humor in this moment—the moment I’m watching the things we’ve worked so hard for slip through our fingertips. The moment I’ve lost everything—all over again.

Our hospital visit takes a long time, and I’m exhausted but so relieved Owen checks out fine. I do too. While we’re in the exam room waiting for our discharge papers, I have Roy on the phone. He’s telling me that insurance won’t cover arson but will cover damages if the fire was accidental. If I did it by leaving the stove on, or something like that, at least it’ll be paid for. I never thought I’d wish I did something absent-minded again, yet here I am.