Chapter 7

SETH

Seth looked at the collapsed wall in shock.

The weight of the boxes had caused the neglected structure to disintegrate, and the back and side walls exposed the extent of the clutter in the deeper part of the house.

Dust and debris were all over the place as firefighters were clearing a passage into the house.

Seth was just glad that he had been able to clear the driveway for the ambulance waiting there.

“I can’t let you go though, Seth,” Dane said, blocking Seth’s path inside.

“Why not?” he demanded, looking between Dane and the house as his eyes went nearly black with fear.

Dane shook his head. “It’s not looking good, Seth.”

“She was in there?” Seth demanded, his voice a raspy whisper. “She was in there when it went down?”

Dane nodded. Seth drew in a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his face as he looked back at the house.

SignoraBianchi had ventured outside during the days he had worked to clear her home.

They had gotten to know each other very well over the last week, and she had told him more about her grandson in New York.

“Coming out!” Everyone looked up at the fire chief’s call and automatically stepped aside to allow the firefighters a passage to the ambulance.

“Oh fuck,” Seth hissed as he saw SignoraBianchi on the stretcher. He slipped past Dane and rushed to her side.

“Bambino…” Her face was covered in scratches and a nasty bruise was already forming around her left eye. Her right arm was strapped up, and her left leg was in a splint.

Her pale skin was almost translucent, and Seth could see her eyes fading.

“Sì, signora?” Seth said, taking hold of her frail hand.

“Call Alessandro…”

Seth’s heart dropped when her eyes closed.

“Deputy?” The paramedic gently shook Seth’s arm. “We need to go now.”

He nodded. “I’ll escort you to the hospital.”

INDIE

Indie glanced out the front windows of her store before she turned back to her workshop.

The snow had been falling all afternoon, and though she had planned to stay later at the shop after most of her stock was sold at the fair, the heavy skies made her change her mind.

She packed the materials she would need to continue working at her apartment and proceeded to turn off the lights and lock the office door.

A sharp knock on the front door made her freeze, her numb fingers dropping her tool bag on the counter.

Her heart stopped as she saw a large shape darkening the big glass panel, until she recognized the gold glint in his hair from the streetlamp.

With a frown, she unlocked the door.

“Hey…”

“I’m sorry. I should have realized that you were on your way home.” He sounded tired, and for the first time since Indie had met him, his characteristic smile was gone.

And she realized she missed it.

“I was, but why don’t you follow me in your car? You look tired. I can’t offer you much except takeout from a great place, a comfy, cushy couch, and a pair of furry ears to rub.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, a hint of mischief evident in the flash of a dimple on his left cheek. “A comfy, cushy couch sounds great.”

She ignored the silly flippy-floppy dance her heart was doing and quickly exited the shop. His presence gave her a sense of security as she locked the door.

He walked her to her car and waited till she had started the engine before hurrying to his truck and climbing into the cab.

Indie placed a call to her favorite restaurant before she pulled away. Their delivery arrived at her apartment just after they had taken off their coats and she had introduced Seth to Zing.

“~Zing~?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile as she scratched the dog’s ears. “Zing. As in the sound a bullet makes as it passes your head.”

“Hey, Zing,” Seth scratched the dog’s chin. Seth turned to study the photos arranged on her feature wall as she took the food from Miguel.

She turned to get her wallet and watched as Seth settled their bill.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she admonished gently.

“What?” He turned to her in confusion.

“Pay for the food.”

He gave a casual shrug. “I would have done so if we had gone to a restaurant, so why wouldn’t I do so now? Same situation, different setting.”

“Okay…”

He tilted his head as he studied her. “No one’s ever done that for you?”

She shook her head. “No…”

“Okay…,” he said softly. He turned back to the wall of photos. “Did your dad take these?”

She smiled fondly. “Yes.”

“They’re beautiful,” he said as he studied her favorite one. “You said that your dad was a war photographer?”

She nodded as she joined him by the wall. “This was taken during our last summer together. My sister, Magenta, Maggie, went off to college, and Dad…disappeared…”

Seth frowned. “Disappeared?”

“Yes,” she laughed. She led him to the couch and curled up in the corner of it.

“Disappeared. His disappearances weren’t a new thing, but this time ~felt~ different. He had always been sporadic and impulsive like that. Always a loner.

“He was chasing a story somewhere in Libya and never came home.

“Mom died a year later, after she confessed that Dad had been diagnosed with autism after he graduated from college.”

They each reached for their plates, filled with smoked ribs and mixed vegetables baked in a cheesy sauce.

“What was it like growing up with a neurodivergent father?” he asked, his interest sincere, but the memories were still too raw for Indie to speak about.

“He was the best, even if he named us after the colors in the rainbow.”

Seth laughed, setting off tiny sparks along Indie’s nerve endings. “I was wondering about that.”

“What happened today?” Indie asked softly, needing to steer the conversation away from her dad and to the actual reason for Seth coming to her.

The sadness in his eyes squeezed her heart and she reached across the space to put her hand on his shoulder. She watched as he set his plate on the coffee table and laid his head on the cushions.

“I met an old lady last week who had lived in her house for over fifty years. She had raised her children in it and buried them outside of it.

“And after her husband died, she started hoarding…excessively. She was going to lose her place if it wasn’t cleaned up.

“We were a group of guys helping her on our days off and we got to know her well.

“But the combination of the weight of her hoarding and the unexpected snowfall we’ve had the last few days…” He shook his head.

“Seth…,” Indie said softly. She scooted closer to him.

“She stumbled over one of the crates and fell against the wall, which collapsed.”

“No!” Indie gasped, the tears stinging her eyes. “Tell me she’s okay.”

Seth shook his head with a sad smile. “She just about held on till her grandson got there from New York.”

“Oh, Seth, I’m so sorry,” Indie whispered as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“She reminded me of my Nonna. My mom was from an Italian family, large and loud and just fun to be with.

“Nonna moved from Little Italy in Chicago to help Mom with us after our father skipped out and Papadied. She was a tiny, feisty woman who valued her family above all else.

“She was there when Mom died in service. And she disliked my ex-wife with a passion.”

“Wow, okay.” Indie shifted against the cushions and Seth laid his head on her shoulder. “Was it because you were the favorite?”

He laughed softly. “Nope. She was convinced Tereza was going to break my heart. She wasn’t wrong.”

“I’m so sorry, Seth.” Indie laid her cheek against the top of his head, absentmindedly enjoying the softness of his hair against her face.

They sat in silence for a long while, basking in the warmth of the crackling fire and Zing’s soft snores as he slept in front of it.

“What are you thinking?” Seth’s soft question made her blink at him in surprise. She hadn’t realized that he had been watching her.

She gulped guiltily, hoping he would assume her reddened cheeks were from the warmth of the apartment.

“I—I wasn’t thinking anything,” Indie stammered.

He straightened to see her face better. “You’re a terrible liar, Indigo Dawson.”

“I’m not lying!” she protested, feeling her cheeks heat up even more under his scrutiny. She gasped when he laughed at her discomfort. “What are you laughing at?”

“You,” he said simply, trying to control his laughter. “You were staring at that rug so intently, and when I asked, you just looked so guilty that it made me curious.

“And your denial…I’m sorry, Indie, but I would do anything to know what was in your thoughts.”

Indie stared at him in horror. There was no way she was going to confess the images that had been playing in her mind when she was looking at that rug!

Not when they included him in nothing but her orange and yellow quilt and the firelight.