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She nodded. “I can’t believe this is happening. One lightning storm and…” Her voice broke. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Her gaze flitted to meet his, then dropped to the contents of his hands. “What’s that?”
Each step he took made the wood creak beneath his feet until he found himself on solid ground. He held out the photo album. “It smells like a campfire, but it was covered by a blanket.”
Agatha snatched the album from his hands, eyes wide and brimming with tears. “Where did you find this?” she demanded in a hushed whisper.
“In the living room.”
Tears tumbled from her eyes down her cheeks, and she shook her head. “That’s not possible. It was in a box upstairs in the spare room where the lightning hit.” Her fingertips traced the leather cover as her bright eyes lifted to meet his.
“Dunno what to tell you. I found it in the living room under a blanket.”
Without warning, she threw herself at him, the book wedged between them.
His hands shot out to his sides initially, unsure of what he should do.
But then her body started shaking, racked with sobs.
Sobs of relief? Sorrow? Joy?
He couldn’t tell. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around Agatha and held her, letting her expel every last ounce of ache she’d been holding onto since this whole ordeal began.
She could take as long as she needed. He wasn’t going anywhere.
6
Agatha
It wasn’t hard to lose all track of time.
Agatha could have clung to Zeke for an hour, three hours, an entire day, and she wouldn’t have realized it. There was a part of her that was perfectly content to be wrapped in his strong arms and allow herself this moment of weakness.
Then that moment passed.
What was she doing?
This was Zeke Callahan—the rough around the edges man who everyone in town had a thing or two to say regarding his temperament.
Cautiously, she extricated herself from his embrace. Without meeting his gaze, she mumbled, “Thank you for finding the book.”
He made a noise that didn’t sound like much more than what an animal might make.
Quickly wiping at her eyes, she glanced at him, then down to the album in her hands. “You don’t know what this means to me.”
“I’m sure I could wager a guess.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
Zeke peered up at the house, his eyes narrowing slightly. “The stairs are unusable. I’m assuming if you have anything upstairs, it’s taken the brunt of the smoke damage. Where is your bedroom?”
“Upstairs,” she murmured.
“Right. So that means all your clothing and bedding won’t be usable.”
“Not likely,” she sighed. This was what she’d figured when they’d arrived. The fire started upstairs in the back of the house and swept through the house a heck of a lot faster than she would have thought. “I guess I’m going to have to—”
“You’re going shopping.”
She stilled. “What?” The single word escaped her lips with a small laugh riding its tail.
