Sweet as Honey (Aster Valley 2)

It was Truman. And he was sobbing.

“It’s on fire! The shop. On fire, Sam. It’s on fire. On…” I could barely understand him through his tears. I raced out of the room and barged into Mikey and Tiller’s room without knocking.

“Fire in town at Truman’s shop,” I said quickly. “Taking the SUV.”

Mikey quickly asked if we wanted them to come, too, but I didn’t want to wait for them to get dressed. “No. I’ll call you.”

As I ran back through the house to grab the keys, I tried getting Truman to calm down. “Where are you, sweetheart? At the farm?”

“No, Barney came to get me. I’m at the shop. It’s awful. Sam… Sam… can you… Can you come here?”

“I’m on my way, baby. Hang tight, okay? Stay away from the shop. Are the firefighters there?”

The drive to town seemed to take forever, and every hiccup of Truman’s slowed down the flow of information. I finally saw the commotion out front of the shop and pulled the SUV over to the side of the road before hopping out and making my way through the growing crowd of onlookers.

I finally found him with the older man’s arm around his shoulder. I skidded to a halt, not wanting to upset him by yanking him out of his ex’s arms. I didn’t know their history. For all I knew, Barney Balderson was a great comfort to Truman. I’d known the man all of a day and a half.

“Truman,” I said as I approached. He let out a garbled sound as he spotted me and then lurched in my direction. I wasn’t sure if he’d intended to fly into my arms or not, but he tripped halfway there and landed against me anyway. I wrapped my arms around him and held on tight.

I could see the confused face of his ex in the shadows caused by the fire engine’s swirling lights.

I closed my eyes and breathed. “Are you okay? You didn’t get close, did you?”

I finally opened my eyes and looked at the building. It was completely engulfed. The windows were broken, and large columns of water shot through several of them from thick hoses managed by firefighters on the ground and in one of the truck’s ladders.

“It’s ruined,” he breathed without even looking at the building. “Everything Aunt Berry worked for. Everything she built. I’ve ruined it all.”

“How did you ruin it?” I asked, keeping my arms banded tightly around his back.

“They set my shop on fire because they hate me,” he said in a small voice into my chest.

I pulled back and gripped his face so I could meet his eyes. “What? Who did this? This was set on purpose? Do you know that for sure?”

Truman’s eyes were wet with tears, and his face was golden in the light from the fire. I looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear us, and the only person was Barney.

“No, I don’t know it for sure, but the building passes safety and code inspections every year. Why else would my store catch on fire?”

Barney stepped closer and patted Truman’s shoulder. I wanted to snap and growl at him, break his fucking hand off his arm for even thinking of touching Truman right now, but I recognized that as entirely inappropriate and uncalled for. Barney was more of a friend to Truman than I was. I’d only known the man a couple of days, and I was heading back out of town before the week was out.

The older man cleared his throat. “I think Truman might be right. Plenty of people in this town have had it out for Truman for a long time. He needs to take better care of his safety. I keep trying to tell him, he’s safer at home.”

Truman pulled out of my hold enough to include Barney in the conversation, but I noticed he kept a tight grip on the back of my shirt with one hand.

Barney looked at Truman with parental-type affection. “Truman’s going to come stay with me for a little while, aren’t you, sweet pea?”

I felt Truman’s hand tighten on the back of my shirt. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Truman said. “I’ll be okay.”

His words from earlier in the evening about not treating him like a child echoed in my head, and it took all of my self-control not to go full alpha on him by swooping in and making protective demands the way Barney seemed to be doing.

Barney pursed his lips. “But your gate is broken, and I don’t feel comfortable letting you stay alone all the way out there.”

“The gate isn’t broken anymore,” Truman said, turning to face me. “Sam fixed it for me.”

I reached out and brushed an errant curl out from behind the frame of his glasses. “I was going to fix that fence tomorrow, too, so I’m happy to come bunk on your sofa and get started on that first thing in the morning if you don’t want to be alone tonight.”