The Firefighter's Family Secret

Chapter Two

Rachel dusted shelves that didn’t need dusting and tidied displays that were already tidy. It was a Tuesday, one of the least busy days in her dad’s shop. Her only customer had been the tall, good-looking firefighter in a faded blue T-shirt and stonewashed jeans that hugged his legs and told her Colton Barlow was a man who worked out. A lot. Good Lord, his biceps alone were enough to make her mind start fantasizing. Hot and yummy, and a definite change from the older, potbellied retirees who usually came into the store.

Men who looked like Colton Barlow, and had a killer smile like his, didn’t come to Stone Gap very often. He’d stayed long enough that she almost thought he was going to ask her out. But in the end, he just paid for his purchase and headed out the door. Clearly, she’d read him wrong. Of course, she hadn’t helped things by being such a dork and blushing every five seconds, or making that stupid comment about the best place to make out. It was as if she was back in high school again and crushing on the cute boy in English class.

She shouldn’t have been disappointed—after all, she was the one who had sworn off men until she had more than five minutes of free time a day—but she was. It would have been nice, really nice, if he’d noticed more than just the type of rod and reel she was selling him.

At six she locked up, got in her car and drove across town to the three-bedroom bungalow where she’d grown up. The flower beds were overrun with weeds, the trees in desperate need of trimming and the white picket fence out front had faded to a dingy gray. It was as if time had stopped in that house, and now everything else was slowly giving up the fight.

Rachel sighed, parked her car in the drive then headed inside. Just like the outside, the interior of the house was dark and dingy, coated with a fine layer of dust and despair.

Before her mother’s death, her father had been at his store day in and day out, clocking in when the shop first opened and staying as long as anyone needed to buy something from him. Her mother had manned the ship at the house, keeping up with the plants and dishes and creating a home with everything she did.

But then cirrhosis had taken Rachel’s mother last year, leaving all of them with a hole too wide to fill. It had hit Ernie especially hard. He’d made himself a hermit in the house, losing interest in the store, in fishing, in his life. For that entire year, Rachel had run the shop single-handedly, putting her own life on hold, leaving her father to grieve while she ordered supplies and paid bills and swept the floors.

For ten months he hadn’t asked her a single question about how the store was doing. But she’d come by every day nonetheless and given him a recap. Then one day he’d called her in the middle of the day, asked her how it was going. It wasn’t much, but her father’s spark of interest had given Rachel hope that maybe, just maybe, she could get back to her own venture someday soon. Assuming she still had one, given the dent one year of not working had made in her bridal business. Just when Happily Ever After Weddings was getting off the ground, Rachel had to put it all to the side. She’d lost several bookings, and had probably given up all the ground she had worked so hard to gain the year before. But her father had needed her, and that was all that mattered.

Someday he’d be back in charge, and she’d go back to her life. Someday.

She found her father sitting at the kitchen table, a crossword puzzle in front of him. He had filled in only a handful of clues since she’d left him this morning in the same place, with the same folded section of newspaper in his hands. The breakfast dishes still sat in the sink, and there was nothing in the stove for dinner. Rachel worried that if she ever stopped coming by, her father would stop eating altogether. It was as if losing his wife had made him lose his motivation to move forward. Move anywhere, period.

“Good evening, Dad.” She pressed a kiss to his unshaven cheek. She missed the scent of his cologne, the smoothness of his skin after he shaved. “What’s for dinner?”

“I...uh...haven’t thought about it.” He blinked, his eyes bleary and red, probably from getting a few fitful hours of sleep in the recliner in front of the TV. His white hair stuck up on his head, and his T-shirt looked as though it hadn’t been washed in a month. “The day goes by so fast sometimes. I didn’t even realize it was that time already.”

“Why don’t I just throw some chicken on the grill?” Rachel pulled open the fridge and pulled out a package of meat, acting like everything was okay. That it didn’t make her heart hurt to see her once robust and busy father sitting here like a lump of clay. “You still have those potatoes?”

“Potatoes?”

“I bought them at the store yesterday. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about them. Well, I haven’t eaten any potatoes, so they’re probably in the bin in the pantry. You know, where Mom always kept them? Never store them with the onions, she’d said, but I can’t remember why.” He shook his head then turned back to the crossword. “What’s a five-letter word for in fashion?”

“Umm...” She thought about it while she sprinkled some seasoning on the chicken, then dug in the bin in the pantry, unearthed a few potatoes, washed them and pricked their skins. “Try vogue.”

“Works for me.” He penciled it in. “Been working on this crossword all day. It’s a tough one.”

It was what he said every day. She wasn’t quite sure how her father spent the hours between breakfast—when she got here at eight and put his coffee on and fixed him some eggs—and six fifteen, when she got back from the store. She didn’t want to think of him sitting at this kitchen table, staring out the window, mourning. But truth be told, that was what she knew her father probably did every day.

“Have you called Daryl? He was in the other day. Said he wanted to get you up to the lake, see what’s biting.” Her father’s best friend had been in almost every day over the last month, checking to see if Ernie might have come in for the day. Daryl had tried calling and coming by the house, but if Ernie didn’t want to deal with someone, he just ignored them. Rachel hoped that if she kept on mentioning Daryl and her father’s favorite pastime, it might get him out the door.

Her father waved that off. Again. “Maybe when the weather is better.”

Rachel glanced out the window at clear skies, a sunlit day. “Today was a great day for fishing, Dad.”

That made her think of the firefighter again. Colton Barlow. Novice fisherman. Decent first baseman. And very hot guy in general. She wondered how his fishing trip had gone, and whether he’d be back to the store. Whether he’d ask her for coffee—

Then she glanced at her father and realized she probably didn’t have time to date. Heck, she barely had time to take care of herself. There were dishes to do, laundry to process, some weeding to tackle, then she had to go home and take care of her own chores, sleep, get up, work the store and come back to her father’s house again. Rinse and repeat, day after day, until her father got back into his life. “Dad, I’m going to get this on the grill, then I’ll come back in and do the dishes.”

“You don’t have to. They can keep.” He never even looked up from the crossword. “I’ll do them later.”

She sighed. It was what he always said, whenever she offered to clean for him, but he never swept or washed or did anything about the mess inside the house or the weeds out front. And all the other thousand little things that had gone undone for months.

She put the chicken on the grill then came back inside. She fished out the register report from her pocket and smoothed the paper on the table in front of her father. “Here’s today’s tally. Things were a little slow.” She didn’t mention that her only customer had been the firefighter.

The store had barely been surviving in the last few months, but she never told her father that. If she did, his disappointment—in the store, in her—would likely make him retreat even further. So she tried to keep things upbeat, positive. There were days when even that was a challenge.

Her father gave the paper a glance. “Business will pick up.”

He’d been saying that for months. But business had dropped to a dangerous low, and right now it was costing more to keep the lights on than she was taking in during the day. She was doing her best, but the people of Stone Gap loved her dad, came to him for his expertise, the way he made everyone feel welcome. She was trying, but she wasn’t Ernie. “I think everyone misses you down at the shop.”

“I’ll be by.” His focus was back on the crossword. “Someday.”

Rachel slipped into the seat opposite her father and put a hand over her dad’s. “Someday...like tomorrow? Come on, Dad. It’ll be good for you to—”

He shoved the chair back so fast, it squealed against the tile floor. “I’m fine right here. So let it go.”

Then he stomped out of the room, down the hall and into his bedroom. The door shut with a slam, and Rachel was left alone, with the same mess she’d been trying to clean up for the past year.

She fixed the chicken, did the dishes and processed a load of laundry. Then she left her dad a covered plate and a note that said she loved him before she headed out the door. Rachel sat in her car for a long time, debating whether to go home and do the same at her house, then work on the books and orders for the store.

Or maybe, for once, do something for herself.

That made her think of Colton again. He was here on vacation, she presumed. Did that mean he was out tonight? Sitting on a bar stool somewhere, or still fishing? Or was he the type to fill his evenings with a long run or a good novel?

When was the last time she had done any of the above? Had enough time to buy a book, never mind read one? Take a long, lazy walk on a warm summer evening? Sleep in on a Sunday and dawdle over the paper with a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll?

As she neared the street toward the cozy apartment she lived in, she saw the sign for the Sea Shanty. She debated at the stop sign then finally turned left, away from home and toward the restaurant. She rolled down the windows, let in the ocean breeze and tasted the short burst of freedom in the air.

The Sea Shanty wasn’t much, as restaurants went, but the food was good, and they’d recently started featuring live bands almost every night of the week. Rachel picked up her phone, pressed a button and waited for the other end to answer. “You up for a glass of wine and way too many calories?”

“Hell, yes.” Melissa, Rachel’s best friend since grade school, let out a throaty laugh. “Tell me where and when, and I’ll get Jason to watch these kids so I can escape the shackles of motherhood for a few minutes.”

“The Sea Shanty. As soon as possible.”

“Hold on a sec.” Melissa covered the phone then yelled to Jason, “I’m going out so you’ve got the rugrats for dinner.” Then she was back. “Give me ten minutes.”

“I can’t wait.” Rachel pulled into the lot, parked her car and tucked her keys in her purse. How long had it been since she’d had dinner and drinks with friends? Clearly, way too long if she couldn’t remember. She had to find a better way to balance her life. Otherwise, she had a feeling she’d wake up a year from now and realize she was still in the exact same place as before. She wanted to date again, go out more often, get her business running. Coming here tonight instead of going home was a good first step, but Rachel had a feeling she was going to need a miracle if she wanted to carve more than an impromptu dinner out of an already tightly structured twenty-four hours.

Yeah, definitely a miracle. She still had a pile of paperwork to do at home, the end of the quarter financials to finalize and a restock order to process. She didn’t have time for a long dinner—maybe a quick bite and the rest to go. Melissa would understand, Rachel hoped. Maybe in a few more months...

But even Rachel didn’t hold out hope for that. Her father was all she had left, and there was no way she was going to abandon him. If it took one year or ten, she would be there, taking care of him and doing what she should have done—

Before her mother died.

The guilt rolled through Rachel like a wave. Those two years after her mother got sick, Rachel had been so invested—too invested—in her own life. Her father hadn’t even told her about her mother’s illness early on, and she’d missed all the subtle clues that something was awry. Rachel had been pouring herself into her new business, into getting it off the ground, and by the time she realized her mother was sick—

It was too late.

Her father had been the one who had dealt with the doctor’s appointments, the long, sleepless nights, the funeral plans at the end. Her mother had told her, just before the end, that she had begged Ernie not to tell Rachel about the cirrhosis, because she wanted her daughter to be happy, unburdened by an illness that took full-time caregiving. Her father had agreed, and the two of them had done their best to shield their daughter from the situation until the weakness and changes in her mother’s face spoke the truth.

That was why Rachel had dropped everything to be there for her father now. She may have let him down before, but she wasn’t going to do it again, regardless of how long it took.

The Sea Shanty was half filled with diners, and several people sat at the outdoor bar. Rachel opted for an outdoor table, since the weather was warm, the breeze light, the ocean waves lapping at the shore like a quiet song in the background. The band was tuning up, a three-piece group she’d heard before and liked. They did a lot of covers of popular songs, but had a strong female singer who could belt out a ballad, too.

Rachel was just opening her menu when she caught a glimpse of Colton Barlow, just settling down at the end of the bar. He ordered a beer then picked up a menu.

Damn, he was a good-looking man. He’d changed since this morning, into a fresh pair of jeans and a pale blue polo shirt that stretched across the muscles in his back. His dark hair was damp, which had her picturing him in the shower. Naked. Soapy.

Crap, crap. He’d turned and caught her looking. She jerked the menu up to her face and prayed Melissa arrived, like right now. Instead, Colton slipped off the bar stool, crossed the wooden deck toward her and, in less time than it took to flip a burger, derailed all of Rachel’s careful plans.

* * *

The pretty clerk from the hardware store blushed when Colton approached. He liked that. She’d come across as so self-assured in the shop, and yet when he caught her eye now, a shy smile flitted across her face, and she dropped her attention to her menu. Avoiding him? Or embarrassed that he had caught her staring?

“You seem to be everywhere I am,” he said. Not exactly a winner as far as opening lines went, but in his defense, he was a little rusty. It had been at least three months since he’d been on a date, almost a year since he’d been in anything remotely approaching a relationship.

“It’s a small town. It’s bound to happen.” She put her menu to the side and crossed her hands on the table. All business now, the last traces of her blush gone. “So how was the fishing?”

“Great. The rod you sold me worked out well. Caught two striped bass, but no sharks.”

“Just as well,” she said, and a smile flitted across her face. “If you got bit while you were staying here, it might put a dent in our tourism industry.”

He arched a brow. “Stone Gap has a tourism industry?”

“Well, only if you count the Fullertons, who come down every winter to vacation with the Whitmans.” Then she glanced at him again, and her cheeks grew pink. “Well, them...and you, of course.”

“Of course.” He looked down and noticed another place setting and a second menu at the seat across from her. For a date? Colton had no right to care whether Rachel was dating anyone or not, but a part of him did. He knew he should just let the conversation drop, let her go. He was leaving town in a few days, after all, and anything he started with this beautiful woman he would never be able to finish. Except he couldn’t seem to get his feet to move. “I wanted to thank you for the fishing advice you gave me.”

She waved that off and gave him a smile. A genuine one that brightened her eyes, her whole face. Something deep inside Colton warmed. “It was nothing. The advice comes free with the purchase of the rod and reel.”

Maybe so, and maybe she wasn’t interested in him, but in that moment Colton decided he wasn’t going to walk away with regret a second time. So maybe he was only going to be in town for a short while. And maybe she was waiting on a man. But he loved the way she smiled and especially loved the way she blushed, and he didn’t want to return to his seat without knowing when he was going to see her again. “Let me take you to lunch tomorrow.”

“Oh, I can’t.” She shook her head. “I’m working and it’s...difficult for me to get away.”

“Then dinner.”

“I have... I, uh, don’t think I can. I’m sorry.” Another head shake, this one a little slower and sadder.

“Are you just playing hard to get?” He grinned. “Or are you really this busy?”

“No, really, I am this busy. My life is...complicated right now.”

“Join the club. Mine is a bit of a mess.” He glanced again at the second place setting and decided maybe she simply wasn’t interested in him. “I’m sorry. I should let you get back to your date.”

“Good Lord, don’t do that. This poor girl hasn’t had sex in months.”

Rachel turned red as a beet. Colton spun around to find a short brunette with a big smile and an even bigger purse pulling out the second chair. She thrust a hand toward him. “I’m Melissa, her married best friend. Who is desperately trying to get Rachel back into the dating scene again before she shrivels up and dies like a prune. And you are...single and employed?”

He laughed. “Yes to the first, and sort of to the second. Colton Barlow. I’m a firefighter in Atlanta.”

Melissa grinned up at Colton, then shot another grin at Rachel. “He’s cute, did you notice?”

Rachel looked as though she wanted to run from the restaurant. So Colton pulled up another chair, spun it backward and straddled the seat. Which only made Rachel blush harder and piqued Colton’s interest more. “Maybe,” he said. “Seems like a nice enough town. With a lot of nice people.”

Melissa nodded. “Very nice. Rachel here is—”

“Trying to order dinner,” Rachel cut in. “Did you look at the menu yet, Melissa?”

Melissa waved a hand in dismissal. “I know the menu here. It never changes. Whereas the population of Stone Gap, well, looks like that is changing. And weren’t you just saying the other day that there were no good men to date in this town?”

Rachel choked on her water. Colton choked back a laugh then cleared his throat.

“Then maybe you should take me up on my lunch invitation,” Colton said to Rachel. “So you can eliminate one more single man from the list.”

“He asked you to lunch?” Melissa said. She leaned across the table. “And you said no? Why on earth did you say no?”

“I’m busy and—” Rachel threw up her hands. “I am not having this discussion. I’m ordering some food.” She signaled to the waitress. A young blonde came bouncing over to the table, readying a pad of paper.

“What can I get you?” the girl said. She chewed a stick of gum while she talked, which added a snap to each syllable.

“I’d like the fish tacos,” Rachel said. “And a glass of chardonnay. Melissa?”

But Melissa wasn’t paying attention. She was staring at Colton as if he was the last man on earth and she was going to wrap him up and deliver him to Rachel for Christmas. “Did you say Barlow? As in related to Mac, Jack and Luke?”

He nodded. “They’re my half brothers.”

“Well, then, that’s a whole other vote in your favor. Everybody loves the Barlows.” Melissa leaned in toward Colton and lowered her voice. “Rachel is a bit...stubborn, and she is busier than anyone I’ve ever met, but believe me, she is worth whatever hell she puts you through to date her.”

“Melissa!”

“What? I’m just making a case for you.” Melissa grinned. She turned to the waitress, who was standing there, tapping her pen on her pad. “Bring me the seafood salad. Those darn kids have left me on a perpetual diet. And for the gentleman—”

“Who isn’t staying,” Rachel cut in.

“See what I said? Stubborn.” Melissa grinned at Colton. “But don’t let that... Oh, look. It’s Bobby and Della.”

Colton turned and saw his father, standing by the hostess station with another couple, and Della, his wife—and the mother of the other Barlow boys. At the same time, Bobby noticed Colton, and he stiffened. He whispered something to Della, and she turned toward Colton. She worked up a smile and gave Colton a little wave.

Colton stared toward Bobby, but a pained look filled his father’s face. The other couple, unaware of the tension filling the restaurant, started chatting with Bobby. He gave Colton a half nod then turned his attention back to the people he was with. A second later the hostess gathered up a pile of menus and started waving toward a table on the far end of the room.

A deep ache started in Colton’s chest. The father he’d always wanted, the father he had finally found, and despite the auspicious beginning they’d had at Jack’s wedding, Colton could tell Bobby still looked uncomfortable with the idea of welcoming his illegitimate son into the family fold.

It was a small town, after all, and that meant they would inevitably run into each other. Colton told himself he hadn’t expected a warm, familial welcome, but—

He had. He’d hoped for some Hollywood reunion, with his father trotting him around town with pride, telling everyone that Colton was his son.

A son who let two of his best friends die in a fire? Did you really think he’d want to spread that news?

Colton shook off the thoughts. If he let the guilt in, he knew it would take over every thought, and he’d be stuck in that limbo he’d barely climbed out of. He needed to move forward, make a new start. Not dwell on the past and choices he couldn’t undo.

“I’ll let you ladies enjoy your dinner,” Colton said, then got to his feet. He crossed over to Bobby and Della as they made their way through the room, thinking maybe he had misread the look on Bobby’s face. But no, the closer Colton drew, the more Bobby’s face pinched, and the deeper the dread sank in Colton’s gut.

“Hi, Colton,” Della said. She was a warm and welcoming woman with dark copper hair and a wide smile. Colton had liked her on the spot. If there was one word he associated with Della Barlow, it was grace. Despite finding out her husband had had an affair, and that the relationship had produced a child, Della had treated him as one of the family. For that, Colton was grateful.