Page 17 of Burning Skies
“Whoa. That was a lot.” I chuckle.
That other kid, Keith, runs up. “This should be my story, Sabrina. I discovered the dang fire.”
She folds her arms. “It’s a conflict of interest for you to write a story that involves you, dummy. Don’t you know anything?”
I hold up my hands. “Whoa. We don’t need to argue about this.” I pat Keith on the back. “Sorry to do this to you, buddy, but I think Sabrina is right. If you write an article, it’ll be harder for you to be objective.”
He rolls his eyes and walks back to class. I turn to Sabrina. “Maybe if he’s in the article, he won’t be so salty.”
She shrugs and gets out a notebook. “His tears aren’t my problem.”
Okay, then. “So about your article. Every time the fire department is called, it’s a team effort. A fireman doesn’t really fly solo.” Though I have to admit I like working on my own most of the time, but I don’t mention that. “Except for the kittens. I really did adopt them. For a while at least, until the owner can get on her feet.” As I explain HIPAA laws and why she shouldn’t put Mrs. Delgado’s name in the newspaper, I spot Honey at the main entrance, watching me with suspicion in her eyes.
In another lifetime, if she wasn’t a McAllister, and I wasn’t a Walker, I’d kiss the ever-loving hell out of that woman.
But in this lifetime, all I can do is give her a cheeky wink, which makes her huff in annoyance and storm off.
See you around, princess.
5
HONEY
“So you didn’t getin a fight because of me?” I ask Trig over speakerphone when I get home from work. I smell like a bonfire.
“Nope. Didn’t involve you at all. Why? Did that fuckface say it did?” He curses under his breath. “Is he botherin’ you again?”
“He hasn’t ever bothered me. And I don’t want you going around beating people up. I’m an English teacher. Think about how that looks for me.” That’s not the reason I called him, but I can’t tell Trig I feel bad I might be responsible for Beau’s black eye.
He grumbles something I can’t make out. “Just lookin’ out for you.”
“Thank you, brother, but I’m old enough to look out for myself.”
“You’ll always be that little squirt trying to climb every tree, ride every horse, and lasso every cow. Remember when you fell off Big Blue? You hollered something terrible.”
I chuckle. “And you gave me a piggyback ride home.”
“That right there should get me favorite brother status for life.”
“We won’t tell Cash.”
When we get off the phone, I have to admit I love my hotheaded brother. He’s not perfect, but he means well.
Except I’m not totally convinced about why he fought Beau. I’ll have to ask Cash.
The next morning, I’m reviewing my lesson plans for first period, grateful it’s Friday, when one of my Harvester kids runs up to me.
“Hi, Nora Jean.”
“Miss Honey, if we get that property next year, do you think I could raise chickens? I’ve always wanted chickens, but my mother says they make a mess, and our backyard is too small.”
“They can definitely be messy, but with the right setup, it’s not too bad. Plus, their ‘mess’ makes for great garden fertilizer. And yes, if we get that lot, you’re first on my list to raise chickens.”
She jumps up and down. “Thank you! I keep seeing people raise them on social media, and I’d love to harvest my own eggs.”
“If we have enough supply, we might even want to sell them in a little roadside stand. Our neighbors might want some fresh eggs, and you could use that money to offset your expenses or even save for college.”
Her eyes widen. “Really? That would be so cool! Could we bake too? Maybe sell cookies or bread?”
