The Corporal and the Choir Girl

That’s why she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle of nothingness. She’d lost everything. But she hadn’t lost it all.

Reece was still out there.

She turned back to Brandon. He leaned forward, watching her intently, as though he feared she might fall apart at any second. “Why did you say you were sorry?”

He gulped, the bob of his Adam’s apple loosened the steel of his jaw. “The fire was my fault.”

Reegan turned her body fully to him. She placed her feet on the floor, ignoring the shock of cold that her toes met. “What are you talking about?”

"If I hadn't been acting like a peeping Tom, you wouldn't have been distracted. You wouldn’t have burned the food.”

The food? And then she remembered; Mrs. Russo’s casserole. "That casserole had been in the oven for at least thirty minutes before the fire happened. It wasn't your fault."

Brandon looked doubtful. In fact, he looked as though a ton of guilt were on his shoulders. Not just the fire that had stolen her home from her.

His shoulders looked rock hard as he sat straight. Reegan wanted to knead the worry out of him. How was it she'd lost everything, and all she wanted to do was comfort this man?

Before she could make a move to offer him solace, the doorbell rang. His body went on full alert. His gaze softened when he turned back to her.

"You don't have to see anyone if you don’t want to,” he said.

She didn’t want to. All she wanted to do was sit quietly with him. She had to admit that a large part of her calm at this moment was due to the fact that Corporal Brandon Lucas made her feel safe.

“I’ll get rid of them."

When he stepped out of the room, Reegan pulled her socks on but left her shoes off. She looked around the bedroom. She knew the layout of the row houses having been inside a few of them for dinner with the permanent residents of the ranch.

She knew each of the row houses sported two bedrooms. This room looked lived in but only sparsely. She could tell Brandon had claimed it.

His large, khaki, unpacked duffle bag was in the corner. There was a picture on the bed stand. It was of a younger Brandon and an older man and woman she had to assume were his parents. She saw his uniform hanging in the closet. His polished boots below them. He’d been in a plain shirt and jeans that morning. It was what he’d been wearing last night as well.

Reegan’s head lifted when she heard raised voices from the main room. She opened the bedroom door and stepped out.

Brandon stood in the front doorway, his arms crossed like he was a great protector. He turned when he saw her. His look was fierce. Reegan pitied whoever was on the other side of the door.

Coming farther into the room, she recognized who stood on the porch. It was Fire Marshal Porter.

Seeing his orange jacket made all the memories of last night come crashing back to her. The fire. Her home in flames. The grim look on Mr. Porter’s face was confirmation; she had nothing to go back to.

"It's all gone?" she asked.

Mr. Porter nodded. She'd expected it. She waited for the impact to hit her in her chest. She waited for her legs to give out. She waited for the tears to sting her eyes.

None of that happened. Losing her parents had been far worse. Learning Reece was missing was in second place. The house, it hurt, but at least she could replace some of what was lost there.

"It's just stuff," she said. “I know my parents took out insurance. It will be enough to rebuild the house and replace some of the things that have been lost.”

"That's the problem I was explaining to Corporal Lucas," said the fire marshal.

“What problem?” asked Reegan. She looked from Mr. Porter to Brandon.

Brandon was standing in front of her, facing off against the fire marshal as though ready to fight. But that was ridiculous. Nathan Porter was in his fifties. It would be no contest. And what reason would Brandon have to be angry at the man?

"The house is in your brother's name,” said Mr. Porter.

Reegan nodded. Reece had gotten the house. She had gotten cash. That was the way it was set up. She just wished she'd put the money into the wiring instead of waiting for her brother to get home for a DIY project. Then she wouldn't be in this mess.

"The problem is that Reece is declared missing and not dead. There's no death certificate. Without the certificate, the insurance company won’t play ball. They won’t give you the money to rebuild.”