Page 144 of Wild Fire

“Mwrr!” Murtaghfired back, then flounced away from the tree and jumped into Jag’s lap.

“Yeah, it sucks, but we don’t need thatcomin’out the other end, dude,” Jag told him, curling him in his arms.

“Murr-ow,” Murtagh replied.

Jag started stroking.

Murtagh started purring.

“Okay, this was the night Boz got so tossed, he challengedevery brother to an arm wrestling contest,” his mother said, and Dutch lookeddown to a photo of his father sitting in a chair, his mom draped over his backwith both her arms around him, both of them looking at the same thing,laughing.“He lost.To everyone but Chew.We should have known about Chew rightthen, shouldn’t we have, baby?”she asked Hound.

Hound grunted.

Keely turned a page.

Meanwhile

Meanwhile…

Two weeks later, in a heat snap thatwas not unknown during Denver winters, the first time Dutch could take hisGeorgie on his bike…

Georgiana was surprised, when Dutch went forhis wallet to pay, the big, frightening-looking barista said, “That’s on me,brother.”

They exchanged a look.

More surprising, Dutch didn’t fight it and took his handfrom his pocket.

Five minutes later, she took a sip of the best coffee she’dever tasted.

Apparently, it was true what everyone said: the coffee atFortnum’s Used Books was the best in Denver.

Dutch got his and took her hand to walk her back into thestacks, but he exchanged another glance with the biker-looking guy who wasbehind the book desk.

She didn’t ask.

If Dutch wanted her to know, he’d tell her.

Though, from what she could read, it seemed the thing thatwas being communicated was that something was all good.

Georgiana and Dutch spent the next two hours in the stacks,twenty minutes of it making their selections, the rest of it curled up togetherin a big chair in the way back, sipping coffee and reading.

They walked out to buy their books when Dutch heardGeorgie’s stomach growling.

He took her out to dinner and then he took her home andright to bed.

It would be the next day, Sunday, when Georgie won a roundand talked Dutch into letting her be the one to get up and get them coffee.

And while it was brewing, she went and grabbed the booksfrom the mudroom and stowed them on one of Dutch’s many shelves.

By the picture of his dad.

She reached out a finger and touched the miniscule Chaospatch on the man’s jacket.

Then she whispered, “Thank you.”

After that, she poured herself and her man some coffee.

And went back to bed.

The End