Her features registered a strange sort of surprise. She seemed taken aback at first, then nodded crisply, as if she understood. But her eyes said otherwise.
He turned away from her. He had to.
Chapter Eight
“I know this is going to be really hard for you, Trav. But try your best to look smoldering.”
Travis gave her a pouty glare as he narrowed his eyes. “I’m always smoldering.”
“I didn’t say I needed you to speak. You just keep your mouth shut and let me shoot,” Megan said as she captured a few final images of her shirtless brother standing by the Welcome to Hidden Oaks sign on the corner of the winding two-lane highway that connected visitors to the town where they both grew up.
She appraised the morning’s take on the LCD screen on the back of the camera, pleased with her brother’s contribution. She liked that this year’s calendar would feature the guys around town, in more natural environments.
“How do they look?”
“If I Photoshop someone else’s face on, they’ll be great,” Megan said in a deadpan voice.
“Oh, ha ha. You know calendar sales would dwindle to nothing without me.”
“Enough, enough. Put your shirt on. You’re about the only fireman I don’t want to see shirtless,” Megan said as she tucked her camera into the bag. There was no need for lights, since the natural light of the morning had done its job, bathing the shot in a warm glow. The golden hour, she called this time of day.
“Hey now,” Travis said as he pulled on his T-shirt. “I don’t want you getting involved with any firemen.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Megan said quickly. Too quickly. She changed topics. “Breakfast?”
“Bella’s, of course,” Travis said, and they walked around the corner about a hundred feet to a restaurant that looked like a miniature red barn on the outside, complete with the red paneling and a tarnished rooster weather vane on the roof. The restaurant was named after the owner’s dog, and the sign was written in script with a paw print as the final flourish.
“Morning, Megan. Morning, Travis,” said Theresa, the restaurant owner.
“Hey, Theresa,” Megan said. “Good to see you.”
“Glad you’re back in town. Think we might keep you this time?”
“Wish I could, but I’ve got Portland in my crosshairs,” Megan said, because she was ready for her adventure as soon as she finished the calendar. While in town, she was staying at her mom’s house, since her mom was on a two-week cruise with her husband. Megan was living out of suitcases. The boxes that Travis had helped her pack up when he came down to Los Angeles last week were stacked in the garage. Untouched. There weren’t many. Clothes, pencils, sketchpads, makeup, and photography equipment. All her books were on her ereader, and she owned no furniture. Never had. She didn’t like things, except for her drawings, and those stayed with her.
Being back at the house was tough for her—it brought back memories of all those days when her mom didn’t even want to get out of bed. Megan had tried valiantly to help her mom cope in the only way she knew how: by drawing her pictures for comfort. Her mom still had a boxful of drawings—every species of bird under the sun was in Megan’s repertoire, not to mention pictures of cartoonish dogs in tutus and even a porcupine wearing a top hat. They’d helped some, earning Megan a smile and a few laughs each time she’d presented one to her mom.
Mostly though, Megan had veered in the other direction of her mom when she was younger, by running to the river, heading to the parks, finding new trails in the woods to explore. Ever since then, she’d had wanderlust in her blood, and it had become a deep-rooted part of her soul.
Theresa seated them at their favorite booth by the window that looked out over curving hills.
“Need a menu?” she asked.
“Nope. I’ll have toast and English breakfast tea, please.”
Travis chuckled at her order.
“What? What’s wrong with that?”
“Toast and tea. It’s just funny.” Then to Theresa, “The usual for me.”
She nodded. “Omelet, hash browns, sausage, toast, and coffee.”
Megan laughed. “Someday, Travis, you won’t be able to eat like that.”
He stretched his arms out wide and patted his flat stomach. “Maybe. But not yet.”
“What’s the latest news from Hidden Oaks? You said there was a big fire a few weeks ago. How’s the family doing?” Megan asked.
“They’re doing okay, actually. Staying with friends while their house is being worked on. But they’re all good. I told you their pets are fine, too, right? I saved the dog and cat.”
“Aww, that’s sweet.”
“Becker deserves all the credit. He got the kids from the second floor.”
Megan froze. She’d had no idea. But then, why would she? “He did?”
“We were both on duty when the call came in. The parents were at a work dinner and just a sitter was there, but she was maybe twelve and had fallen asleep on the couch. Neighbors called 911 when they smelled the smoke.”
Megan clasped her hand over her mouth, then released it. “Oh my God. That’s so scary.”
“Becker went up through all the smoke. Saved those little kids.”
Megan felt a stinging in the back of her eyes. “Wow. That’s intense.”
“Anyway, so once the kids were safe, I went back in and snagged the dog and the cat. They were both hiding out under the kitchen table. Scared little creatures.”