Page 75 of Star-Crossed
His anxious features split into a grin. “Fucking brilliant.” His smile fell as quickly as it’d appeared. “It flows downhill into the wrong ditch, we’ll need to redirect the water back uphill.”
Lyra thought of the tangle of hoses coiled in Vee’s greenhouse, and an idea sparked. “We could create a makeshift pump to get the water uphill. Vee has hoses and a gas-powered pump in her greenhouse.”
“On it,” Cy said, jumping in the truck and leaving his bumper behind as they raced back toward Vee and Myrtle’s. In no time, they dragged the hoses and pump up the road and assembled them near the broken water main. Lyra primed the pump while Cy worked the choke, sputtering the engine to life.
The fire raged closer, swiftly consuming the highway in its path. Water spewed from the hoses like a torrent, cascading across the road and into the ditch on the burning side as Cy and Lyra desperately tried to flood each side of the road. The flames crept closer and closer, but once it reached the ditch, the intense heat gave way to plumes of smoke and steam as what was once a vibrant stretch of road became nothing more than a charred gash of destruction.
And yet…they’d won. On this front, at least.
A helicopter passed over them, the pilot giving them a thumbs-up as he flew toward the main blaze, dumping flame retardant on the crux of it.
A vibration against Lyra’s pocket had her digging out her phone, and she answered the moment she saw Gemma’s name.
“They’re containing it!” her twin exclaimed before she’d even greeted her. “Fifty percent and climbing. It’s going to be okay.”
“Are you safe?” Lyra demanded.
“Oh yeah, I was in town trying to figure out what to save, and… All I could think of was our memories and albums at Mom and Dad’s house. Projects from school. Mementos. I was sure it was going to all be gone.”
Lyra glanced over to the plume of smoke in the distance and swore she could see it diminishing in real time. “It didn’t make it to Mom and Dad’s,” she said. “But I doubt everyone out of town will have been so lucky.”
“Already activating the text tree. We’ll go make sure people are taken care of. You stay safe out there.”
“Love you.”
Lyra turned to see Cy leaning against the truck, his shirt as soaked and soot-stained as her own. His strong, angular features were arranged in the oddest of expressions. Somewhere between relief, recrimination, and worship.
She stared at him, her chest and throat too full of emotion to say a word.
She didn’t need to.
Kicking his hip away from the truck, Cy opened his arms, and she stepped into them, burying tears she hadn’t wanted to shed into his wet shirt.
Gentle hands danced up and down her spine as he made a guttural noise. “God, Lyra. You were amazing.”
She smiled, giving a sniff. “We were amazing. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
Townsend Harbor might have disappeared today. One of the oldest working Victorian sea ports left in America. Home of the longest running grocery, at 130 years, the thickest hemp rope, and the 2009 state high school tennis champions, for which they still hadn’t bothered to take down the congratulations sign.
Her hometown.
Cy dropped a kiss on her crown. “You’re the one who figured out how to stop the fire in its tracks. I just drove the truck.” She lifted her face to meet his, and a teasing grin lit his eyes. “This town owes you a debt of gratitude, and no one even knows it.”
“No one needs to know it,” she protested. But secretly, she was proud of how she’d been able to think on her feet and come up with a solution. Maybe Gemma was right, and she did have a gift. If so, she was ready to embrace it.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Cy said. “You’re someone who can see how things will work and understands how all the pieces should fit together.” He glanced at her, his expression softening. “It’s one of the many things that make you extraordinary, Lyra.”
Her breath caught at the emotion in his voice. The fears and doubts that had once held her back seemed to fade in the glow of his words.
“It might be because I’m autistic,” she blurted, blowing her plan to tell him over a calm meal all to hell.
He cocked his head to the side, scrutinizing her with a concerning crease between his brows.
“I received the diagnosis a few days ago,” she answered his unspoken question. “I was working up to telling people...I guess it can help explain why I’m such a bitch.”
“You’re not a bitch. I’ll never let anyone call you that.” Cy pulled her in tight, dropping a kiss to her crown. “It doesn’t change anything, Lyra,” he said. “But I’m glad I know...I’m glad you told me.”
She felt her eyes misting over as she gazed at him. “Can we, um…go home?”
