Page 84 of Sparrow

And there’s lumber and paint and a cement truck and power tools. A line of people going in and out of the garage, in with empty bags and out with full ones as they clean up anything that’s been ruined. They’re covered in soot and coughing, but they’re my people.

My town has come to help.

Only I’m not the one who asked them.

When Taryn darts by me, heading for the table that holds the pastries, I put out a hand and stop her.

“What’s going on here?” I ask. “What is everyone doing here?”

She frowns, like I’ve lost the plot, and then laughs. “You should probably ask Arden.”

She’s gone a moment later, off to grab a donut, and I look past her, dazed and a bit confused. But now...

Now, I start to see Arden’s fingerprints all over everything. She doesn’t know many people in town yet, but everyone she knows is here, and they’ve brought their families and friends. She told me the architect should be here for a restoration, and there he is. Bruce is selling books, Penny’s got pastries, and the volunteers are moving in and out of the building like they’re soldiers.

They each have a schedule in their hands.

Every supply we could need for rebuilding is already here, and I haven’t had to pay for any of it.

I stood there this morning telling her that it was impossible, and instead of agreeing with me, she just saw a problem she could fix. Fuck, she probably saw it as a challenge.

She looked around, took stock, and then went out and got the town to help me rebuild my shop. And it’s already working. The area is cleaned of debris, the inside of the shop is looking tidier, and Daniel and Shane are making plans.

And if I know Arden, she’s given them a deadline and probably told them exactly how to achieve it.

It looks like a miracle, but it’s not.

It’s just Arden.

Just the girl who ran into the house trying to save the things we own while failing to realize that she’s the best gift Orion and I could ever hope to receive.

I straighten my shoulders, grab a cinnamon roll from Penny’s table, and stride into what’s left of the garage. “Shane!” I shout. “I’m here and ready to work. Where do we need extra hands?’

Orion

Iwouldn’t have believed it was possible, but we somehow make it to end of the day in one piece.

And what’s more, things are good.

Better than good. They’re great.

I toss one last piece of trash into the trash bag Arden is holding, and she ties it off, her movements quick and sharp like she’s using the action to argue with someone about whether she should be done or not. She stalks to the front of the garage and throws the bag into the dumpster out there, and then walks back, wiping at her face and trying to corral her hair.

Both attempts are pointless. She’s got soot smeared across her cheekbone and most of her hair has fallen out of the bun she put it in this morning. Her clothes are ruined, her knees scratched, and I don’t even want to think about what she’s done to the boots she borrowed from Taryn.

She’s never looked more beautiful.

I take her hand and walk with her through the space, cataloguing the things we’ve done today. Two whole walls were destroyed and still haven’t been replaced, but we’ve put up the framing for them and just need to pour concrete. The floor is repaired, the trash cleaned out, and all the damaged wood is gone. We tore down half the framing on the wall that borders the house and repaired it, then repainted, and I press my lips together as I look at it.

The fire came entirely too close to the house while Arden was in it, and I don’t like how close we were to losing her. I don’t think I could have forgiven myself if anything happened, and I know Mars never would have recovered.

I don’t say anything, though, because this isn’t a time for dark thoughts. We don’t have a ceiling on the place yet but what we do have smells of cleaner and fresh paint rather than smoke and the heavens are stretched out over us wearing their best jewels. The lights are off, so we’re standing only in starlight, and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I see the flash of chrome from the corner–one of the new toolboxes–and a glint in another from some tool.

And in this moment, everything feels somehow possible. Like we unlocked potential we didn’t know we had, all thanks to a fire that I’m still suspicious of.

I pull Arden toward me, twine an arm around her, and spin her away from my body, then pull her back and start to sway with her.

She laughs in surprised pleasure. “Did you just pull a dance move out of nowhere?”