Page 134 of Red Mountain Burning
Severe Burns and How We Treat Them
Margot opened her eyes to find Philippe barking in her face. She’d been sleeping on her side, and the last thing she remembered, he’d been snuggled up against her leg. Now he was face to face with her, apparently desperate for a midnight bathroom break.
“What’s going on, Philippe? Do you need to go potty?”
Margot sat up as he jumped off the bed. He ran around in a circles while he waited for her.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” She looked at her digital alarm clock. “One-thirty in the morning, and you have to pee? You’re lucky I love you so much.”
Pulling on her robe, Margot followed Philippe down the steps and to the door. “I might start taking your water away at night. You’re as bad as Remi.”
Her dog squeezed out the door as she opened it. The cool air pushed in, and it felt rather refreshing. She cinched her robe tighter and stepped out into the night. While Philippe did his business, she put a hand on the rail and looked up. The full moon explained why the coyotes were so loud and almost devilish. She wondered if Otis might be out there singing with them. It was a circulating rumor that he, on occasion, would take to all fours and let loose his inner demons with his own howls.
Breathing in the cool desert air, she smiled at her life. Sleep or not, in a few hours, she’d become Margot Valentine, wife to one of the most caring, chivalrous men she’d ever met. Even after all her silly attempts to run him off, he’d chased her relentlessly, and she was thankful to finally quit playing hard-to-get.
As she stared at the constellations, she wondered how his night had gone with the Guardians of Red Mountain. Hopefully, Remi was sleeping soundly in his RV by now. She’d warned him against showing up hungover to the afternoon wedding. “Don’t you let me find you at the end of the aisle all green and sweaty. I knowaaaaallllllllllabout the Guardians of Red Mountain.”
“Oh, c’mon,” he’d said, “we’re just sharing a glass of wine and throwing something on the barbeque.”
He’d crashed in the Airstream so that he and Margot could avoid any bad luck. Before retiring to her own room at Margot’s house, Carly had joined the other ladies of the mountain for Margot’s bachelorette party—a youthful and perhaps misleading name, considering they’d gathered at the inn to prepare a vast array of dishes for the wedding the following day. The get-together wasn’t without a thousand laughs and tears, and Margot couldn’t have imagined a better evening with friends.
They’d behaved, though, and by ten o’clock, Margot had snuggled next to Philippe and was trying to fall asleep despite the electronic music coming from Château Smooth’s grand opening nearly a mile away. Eventually, she’d fallen into her bridal dreams, only to be torn away by a dog she’d let drink too much water.
Philippe suddenly raced toward the inn.
“Philippe!” she called out. “Stay where I can see you.”
She didn’t like him going too far with the coyotes out there.
Calling his name as she rushed toward Épiphanie, she thought she caught a whiff of smoke. Was someone burning a fire at the inn?
Philippe’s bark startled her. He was somewhere off to the left of the inn, perhaps in a neighbor’s vines. She called out and went in his direction. “Get back here right now! It’s dangerous out there.”
He barked again, and she followed the sound. As she reached the end of her driveway, he showed himself and raced to her side.
“Don’t do that to me, honey,” she said. “You’ll give me a heart attack.”
After scolding him, she glanced at Château Smooth. Though the music had died, it was the loudest vision she’d ever seen. Referring to it as an eyesore would be comparing cancer to the sniffles. Whatever it was, it was lit up like Times Square—if Times Square were entirely pink.
The sound of sirens suddenly filled the near silence, and she swung her head about, searching for their position. A moment later, a fleet of fire trucks and other vehicles came racing up Sunset Road. She looked right, wondering about their destination. It was hard to see any other lights at all with the brightness of Château Smooth stealing the darkness.
Setting her eyes on the pink behemoth again, she noticed flapping sheets of red and orange that looked out of place. Were those flames? When she breathed in another round of smoke, she knew for sure.
She’d watched the horrid fires in California this year destroy thousands of acres and had always worried that the declining precipitation rates could cause problems around Red Mountain. As one talking head had said when referring to the Tri-Cities area, “It’s not a matter ofif, butwhen.”
Taking one last look at the fire trucks, she knew that “when” was now.
As the fear of losing her inn and home climbed up her throat, she called for Philippe and raced back to her house and up the stairs. “Jasper! Carly!”
She knocked hard on Jasper’s door. He’d only just returned from Boston two days ago for the wedding. “There’s a fire, honey. Please get up.”
“Huh?”
She pushed open the door and repeated herself. “Get dressed. I’m running to the inn to wake the guests, and then I need to figure out what to do with the animals.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there,” he said, clearly trying to shake himself from a deep sleep.
She rushed to Carly’s room next and rapped on the door. Once Carly was awake enough to understand the severity of the situation, Margot said, “Call your dad, let him know what’s going on. Tell him I’ll talk to him once I get the guests up. This thing could really spread.”
