Shift Burn (Imogene Museum Mystery #6) Read Online Free

me. “Ahh, yes. Well, he’ll think you were worth waiting for. Shoot, the whole county’s been waiting for you two to figure this out. Come on. We’re getting hungry.”
    I uttered a wheezy laugh, but cut it off quickly before I passed out. Of course. It really was all about the food.

     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 3
     
    Knowing Alex was as anxious as I was helped tremendously. The two of us made it down the aisle without stumbling. I think I left permanent finger indentations in his arm.
    Then he turned me over to Pete under the vine festooned arch, and I forgot all about being nervous. And I couldn’t stop grinning.
    Everything happened in a blur. Pastor Mort cracked a few jokes and gave a short message. The whole time I was thinking that I should be listening, but I wasn’t — I was smiling into Pete’s crinkle-cornered sapphire blue eyes and clinging to his steady hands. Pastor Mort guided us through our vows and ring exchange. Then Pete lifted my veil and kissed me, long and vigorously, pulling me off my feet with his strong arms, and all I wanted was to stay in his embrace forever.
    But we had an enthusiastic, if hungry, crowd to face.
    “Ready, Babe?” Pete murmured near my ear.
    I squeezed his hand.
    We made a dash for the shade of a big maple — the starting line for the buffet to be served from the swaybacked tables and our impromptu receiving line. We greeted the friendly mob as they jostled into position to fill their plates, thanking everyone for coming, trading barbs and jokes and well-wishes.
    I don’t think I’d ever blushed so much in my life. I also received so many cheek pecks and hugs that I started smelling like a dozen different colognes and perfumes on top of my own sweaty stickiness. I pressed against Pete’s side and tried to take deep, calm breaths. The dress felt like mummy wrappings.
    Once people were settled into contented groups on the grass, scooping all kinds of yummy food from their paper plates, Pete and I started circulating, my hand tightly clasped in his. I was more than ready for him to spirit me away, but we were trying to do our civic and social duty.
    All the floating snippets of conversations I overheard seemed to be about the fires. The sky had turned an eerie, dull orange color, as though there was a filter over the sun. I caught Sheriff Marge, Henry, Bob, and Pastor Mort, among others, casting worried glances toward the northeast. They probably knew the most about what progress — or not — the firefighting crews were making.
    “Want to eat?” Pete wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and pulled me close.
    I shook my head, happy with the sight of my friends and townspeople relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Utter exhaustion swept over me.
    “Let’s try.” Pete tugged on my hand, and we meandered toward the food tables.
    Frankly, there wasn’t room in my dress for a meal. I picked through the best Sockeye County’s gourmet cooks had to offer.
    “They’re miles away,” Jim Carter said as he plunked a chicken thigh coated in ashy red barbecue sauce on my nearly empty plate. The jerk of his thumb over his shoulder indicated he meant the wildfires. “Well outside Lupine. Just gotta pray we don’t get gorge winds until they’re at least partially contained.”
    “Anyone been evacuated?” Pete asked.
    “A few ranches and the maintenance crew from a wind farm. Right now what’s burning is mostly uninhabited, but the land out there doesn’t have natural impediments, so the fire’s moving fast.” Jim swiped his brow with a forearm. “Haven’t seen it this dry since the summer I was fifteen. Fire came close to our house that year, burned down the gulch of the creek bed behind the barn. Lost some cattle. My dad didn’t sleep for two, three nights straight, plowing a firebreak around our place and spraying down the roofs and trees. My brother and I helped him as best we could.”
    Based on Jim’s