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“Had a nice visit with your daddy just now.” He smiled. “Told me to tell you he misses seeing you.”
“I was there this morning,” she said before she could stop herself.
Pop’s memory issues often caused him to forget who’d come to see him. It took all she had not to remind the mayor of this. Instead she kept her mouth shut even as she began to aim her prayers skyward. If the Lord answered quickly enough, Leah just might find a way to remember her manners.
“He also told me to tell you he’d be just fine with you letting all this go.” The mayor swung his attention to meet her stare. “You know that restaurant ain’t up to fire code, and the house over there ought to have been torn down the night it burned. It’s plain foolishness that keeps both of them standing.”
Leah’s fists clenched. Still she said nothing. Though it was quite possible Pop said just that, it was also true that he’d neither remember nor agree with the idea should she ask him next time she saw him.
Not that it mattered, for she had the final say in all legal matters now, not Pop.
Finally the mayor let out a long sigh. “Look, honey, we’re on the same side here.” Murdoch rested his elbow on the open window of the truck. “All the boys and I are trying to do is help.”
“Then, please, let the boys know I appreciate their concern. However, Berry land is not for sale. Not now, and not ever.” She mustered up one last sweet smile. “So, thank you for the visit, but now that you’ve delivered your message, I hope you’ll understand that I’ve got things to do.”
To punctuate her statement, Leah turned her back on the mayor and headed for the barn. She’d almost reached the weathered barn doors when she heard the truck engine roar to life.
“I’m just trying to make things easier for you, Leah. I don’t understand why you insist on being so stubborn,” he called over the sound of the engine.
She picked up her pace, stuffing her fists into the pockets of her jeans. Between Pop and Mayor Murdoch and Vine Beach’s annoyingly handsome new fire chief she’d just about had it with people for today. And while she could do nothing about the lingering worry over her visit with her father, there was something she could do about Jack Murdoch.
Intent on calling the care facility to have the mayor removed from the list of approved guests for Pop, she realized she’d left her phone in the car. Just as well, she decided, for that was a task better undertaken after she’d calmed down a bit.
The mayor whipped around his vehicle to drive between her and the barn. “Look, I came out here as a favor to your daddy. One day you’re going to wish you’d listened to us.”
“Thanks for stopping by, Mayor Murdoch. I’ll be sure and tell Pop you were here.”
Leah slipped inside the cool shade of the barn and waited until the mayor was gone. Only then did she give vent to her anger. Thankfully, the pitchfork was nearby. As she stabbed the implement into the fresh hay, all Leah could think was that while the Lord knew what He was doing, she had absolutely no clue.
* * *
Ryan returned to his house in Houston’s Heights neighborhood just as the sun was setting. Climbing out of the Jeep, he could hear his bullmastiff’s bark of greeting from the backyard. “Hey, Chief,” he called. The For Rent sign was gone—likely picked up by the Realtor this afternoon—as was the lockbox that had hung on the front door.
He stepped into the front parlor of the house he and Jenna were supposed to have shared together, then shut the door behind him. Ignoring the memories and regrets that danced around the blanket-wrapped furniture and across the oak floors, Ryan made his way through the maze of boxes stacked in the dining room to slip out the kitchen door. The deck was broad and shaded, the swing gently swaying in the crisp November breeze.
The old swing was his thinking place, the spot where he went to sort out whatever was bothering him. More than one of his buddies had suggested he go see a grief counselor to deal with the lingering guilt of Jenna’s death. Maybe someday he would, but not until the Lord made it obvious that it was time.
Chief came loping toward him, a ball in his massive jaws. He scratched the dog behind the ear then tossed the ball far into the yard. As the bullmastiff gave chase, Ryan’s phone rang.
The number was unfamiliar, but the area code was not. Vine Beach, Texas.
“Owen here,” he said by habit.
“Hi, Ryan, this is Leah. Leah Berry?”
The dog crossed the deck to deposit the ball at Ryan’s feet. Once again he threw it. “Leah, yes, hi.”
“Hi.”
Her pause let him hear the ocean in the background, a sound that made him smile. For all the reluctance he felt leaving Houston and the fire department, he certainly had no problem living at the beach. If only the circumstances were different. Then maybe...
“So, I gave your name to a friend of mine from church. His name is Riley Burkett. He’s a part-time Realtor and he may have a few rentals for you to check out.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“I’m glad I could help.” Again the waves crashed in the background, a stark contrast to the sound of traffic on Heights Boulevard and the persistent noise of a car alarm going off in the distance.
“Are you at the beach right now?”
“I am,” she said.
“Then I’m jealous.”
“You’ll be here soon enough.” She paused. “So, anyway, Riley knows you’re in a hurry to find a place. He said he would try to catch you tonight so maybe the two of you could go out looking tomorrow. I told him I’d let you know he would be calling.”
“Hey, that’s great. I owe you, Leah.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad I could help.” Another pause, this time punctuated by the screech of a gull and what sounded like the meowing of a cat.
“Thanks. And I mean it. I owe you.” He took a deep breath and let it out swiftly.
“No need to owe me, Ryan. Really. I’m glad to help a friend.”
He hung up not knowing whether the friend she referred to was him or this fellow Burkett.
Chief now dropped the ball at Ryan’s feet. This time he ignored it to step inside, allowing the dog to follow. He’d kept out just enough in the way of kitchen utensils to scrape together a grilled-cheese-and-tomato-soup meal. And while it wasn’t bad, it certainly didn’t compare to the seafood feast he’d had for lunch.
Ryan looked down at Chief who waited discreetly for any scraps that might come his way. The company had been better at lunch, too.
He let his mind rest on Leah for just a moment. Although she’d been a little wary, or angry, or both, he couldn’t deny that she was...pretty.
Chief gave him a look as if he could read Ryan’s mind, then lay down at his feet. Ryan leaned over to scratch the dog behind his ear then tossed him the remains of the grilled cheese.
“She’s just a nice lady who offered to find a...” Ryan rose, shaking his head. It was the one-year anniversary of his wedding to a woman he’d barely been able to build a life with before he’d lost her. He was in no position to think of anyone as “pretty.”
He opened the back door and let Chief out, then stood in the twilight. The car alarm had ceased, and the road noise had quieted to allow the sounds of the night to rise. Snagging his Bible off the counter, he made his way to the swing and settled down under the porch light.
His reading this morning had come from Exodus, a passage detailing the tribe of Israel’s flight from Egypt by way of the less-traveled road. Ryan estimated he’d read that passage dozens of times, and never had he noticed that when the Lord finally allowed the tribe to make their escape, He did not take them through the most direct and obvious route.
Ryan opened his Bible to read the passage again. This time he had to wonder: Was God doing the same thing with him? Was Ryan following Him down the less-obvious route—one that led through Vine Beach, Texas—or was he merely allowing a deathbed promise to send him in the wrong direction?
Ryan went to bed that night turning the question over to the Lord and awakened without an answer. But at least he had a plan. And that was better than what he’d had for the past year.
The next afternoon, Ryan arrived at the address Riley Burkett had given him. Situated across from the City Hall building where Ryan would have an office starting Monday morning, Burkett Realty was on the ground floor of a century-old building that also housed a beauty salon and a clothing store. Both were decorated for fall despite the warm salt-tinged breeze and the complete lack of fall foliage on the trees surrounding the courthouse and adjoining Vine Beach Gazette building.
When Ryan stepped inside Burkett Realty, he was kept waiting only a minute before a woman who introduced herself as Riley’s wife, Susan, ushered him into a back office. Burkett was an older man with a head full of gray hair, a fact that surprised him given the enthusiasm he’d heard on the phone. With a pace much quicker than Ryan expected, they made short work of visiting the handful of rental properties available for long-term lease.
He settled on a one-room furnished cabin situated a few steps from the sand with an upstairs deck that ran the length of the house. The yard was small, something Chief wouldn’t much like, but it was fenced and that would have to do.
After returning to Riley’s office to sign the lease, all that remained was to head back to Houston for the few things he’d be bringing with him. The movers would deliver the rest of it to storage. Then there would be nothing left to remind the new tenants of the man who never managed to bring his new wife home to the house in the Heights.
“You’re all set,” Burkett said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Actually there is,” Ryan said. “I’ll be looking for a church down here. Any recommendations?”
Burkett grinned. “Glad you asked, son. I can help you with that.” He wrote down the name and address of a church on the back of his business card then handed it to Ryan. “I head up a widowers group called Starting Over, and Susan and I mentor the newlyweds.”
Widowers group. Ryan glanced down at the card.
Riley Burkett, PhD, LPC
Certified Grief Counselor
“Wait. I thought you were a Realtor.”
“I am.” The older man looked down at the card he’d given Ryan. “Don’t know how that card got into the wrong place.” He gestured to a second cardholder. “I meant to give you one of those. Want to trade me?”
“No,” Ryan said slowly. “I think this is the one I’m supposed to have.”
“Really?” He gave Ryan an appraising look. “And why is that?”
“Long story.” He paused to weigh the lease in his hand. For a second he considered telling Riley about Jenna, but the words wouldn’t come out. “Thanks for your help.”
Riley looked at Ryan carefully. “Anytime, son. Anytime.”
As he shook Riley’s hand, Ryan wondered if he could talk to Riley, if he could find some relief from the guilt that seemed to follow him around and weigh him down like a boulder on his soul. After all, he couldn’t keep it to himself forever.
As he left the office, Leah stepped out of the beauty salon and right into his path. “Hey, stranger,” she said, her impossibly green eyes stopping him in his tracks.
Chapter Three
“So you found a place?” Leah asked Ryan, noticing the lease he held in his hands.
“I did, thanks to you,” he said. He smiled at her for a moment, and then looked down at the painfully eye-catching, oversize zebra-and-pink disposable sandals she wore postpedicure. Meant only to get her from salon to car, Leah had certainly not expected to be greeting Ryan in them. Nor did she intend to show off the pink flowers Ima had painted on both of her big toes to just anyone. She felt herself blush as Ryan’s smile became a grin.
“So,” Leah said as she affected a casual pose and tried to act as if the ridiculous footwear and silly flowers were as normal as the sneakers Ryan wore, “tell me about your new place.”
“According to the rental ad, it’s steps from the water with an efficient layout and recently remodeled kitchen and bath,” he said. “Pretty much describes every place Burkett showed me except the one up above the beauty salon. The difference with this one is that the owner was willing to lease it for six months instead of by the week. That’s a testament to Mr. Burkett’s persuasive powers.”
“Yes, I can imagine he’d be persuasive.” Across the way Jack Murdoch’s truck pulled into the parking space reserved for the mayor. Leah purposefully returned her attention to Ryan without acknowledging the older man’s wave. “The place sounds wonderful,” she said.
“It’s nothing fancy, but it’s much better than living over Ima’s Beauty Salon, that’s for sure.”
“Living on the beach takes some getting used to, but it does beat inhaling chemicals and listing to blow dryers and Frank Sinatra all day.”
“Just Frank Sinatra?”
“Ima’s a big fan of Ol’ Blue Eyes.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry. There’s a barber shop up on the main highway, so it’s likely you’ll never have to experience it unless you’re called on to do a fire inspection or something.”
He gave the front window of Ima’s a quick glance then grinned. “I’ll take your word for it. Now, other than Pop’s—where I’m sure you’ve dined a time or two—is there a good place for lunch in this town?”
“Lunch?” She thought a minute. “There’s the Pizza Palace, but I don’t know if it’s open for lunch. Frankly I avoid it unless I’m babysitting for the Wilson girls because the noise is deafening and the pizza isn’t exactly gourmet fare.”
He glanced up at the sky then down the street. “I have an idea. Where’s the nearest deli?”
“Inside the Beach Mart on Vine at Main,” she said. “Just around the corner. Why?”
“How about we have a quick lunch, so I can thank you for all your help? Maybe a few sandwiches on the beach?”
Leah’s first thought was that she should turn him down. After all, he was a stranger. And also the new fire chief.
She looked at Ryan’s hopeful expression, and changed her mind.
It was just lunch. Not a date. Just a thank-you. And apparently it would be deli food from the Beach Mart.
Just then, the mayor stepped out of his truck. “Great,” she said under her breath.
“Leah?” the mayor called.
Ignoring him, Leah regarded Ryan with a smile. “Sure. Why not?”
“Great,” Ryan said. “Let’s take my Jeep.”
“Wait right there,” Leah said as she held up her hand to silence him. “I need to...” She pointed to her toes then headed for the front door of Ima’s, escaping the mayor easily. “Just hang on, okay?”
Once inside, the sound of Frank singing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” chased her across the room and into the corner devoted to Ima’s boutique items. There amid the rhinestones and sequins that covered all of the clothing and most of the accessories, Leah found the adorable sandals she’d been eyeing for the past month.
Snatching up a pair in her size, she found Ima and retrieved her debit card. A sly glance out the front window told Leah that Ryan was leaning against the Jeep, arms crossed and his attention focused down the street. Mayor Murdoch was heading for the courthouse door.
The music paused then switched to the unmistakable introduction to “Strangers in the Night.” “I thought you were waiting until these went on sale.” Ima rang up the purchase then handed back the card to Leah, her heavily mascaraed eyes sweeping the length of her. “Guess you can’t go on a date in a pair of throwaways, can you?”
Leah slipped out of the disposables and then pulled the sandals from the box. “It’s not a date,” she said as she balanced on one foot to carefully slide into the shoe. “It’s just...” She paused to repeat the process then tuck the temporary sandals into the empty box. “Ryan’s new to Vine Beach and...never mind. It’s just lunch. Not a date.”
“I don’t know, hon,” she said as she turned her attention out the window. “That handsome fella? I doubt he’s thinking it’s just lunch.”
She slid another covert glance outside. Ryan had shifted positions and now watched her through the window. When their gazes met, he grinned. Oh, my, but he was handsome.
Leah looked away, collecting her idiotic thoughts. “Don’t be silly,” she said as evenly as she could manage. “He’s taking Pop’s job as fire chief. Why would I want to invite that kind of trouble? Can you imagine what my father would say if he found out?”
“Carl didn’t take it well when he had to step down, I’ll give you that,” Ima said. “And then there were the questions about...” She shook her head. “Never mind. Strictly speaking, as someone who knew your pa since we were knee high to a grasshopper, I guarantee he’d like anyone you like.”
“Miss Ima, really it’s—”
“Not a date. Yes, I know. Still your father would be pleased. Or at least he would have if that Alzheimer’s hadn’t...” Ima waved a hand that sparkled with a hefty sample of the rings and bracelets she offered for sale. “Forget I said anything. Just go and enjoy your date. And, girl, those sandals look adorable with your outfit.”
“It is not a date.” She looked down at the denim capris and plain black T-shirt she’d thrown on this morning when her entire plan was to have a pedicure then read on the beach until it was time to head over to Pop’s for the evening crowd. “But thanks.”
Ima nodded, her expression indicating the moment the door closed she’d be on the phone telling someone what she’d just seen. And heard. Though likely she’d forget to mention that Leah had indicated several times over that this was not a date.
She emerged into the November sunshine and offered Ryan a penitent look. “Sorry you had to wait.”
He opened her door, then closed it behind her. When he’d settled behind the wheel, he offered a sideways look. “Nice shoes.”
Leah couldn’t help blushing for the second time in ten minutes.
* * *
Ryan tried not to cringe. Nice shoes?
He mustered a smile as he buckled his seat belt and started the car. “So, that grocery store? Where was it again?”
Leah nodded toward the south. “It’s on the corner of Vine and Main.”
He backed out of the parking space and headed in that direction. “So you’re okay with a picnic?”
“Definitely pro-picnics,” she said with a chuckle.
“Great.” If she’d said she preferred some kind of indoor dining, he’d be back at Pop’s again. Not where he wanted to take her on their not-a-date.
Besides, Burkett had mentioned that the spot offered a good view of the burned-out ruins of the Berry home.
The Beach Mart was easy to find, situated as it was on a corner just beyond the church and nursing home. He parked the Jeep but lagged a step behind Leah as she headed inside.
He wanted to thank Leah, absolutely. But he also had become more than a little curious about the fire at Leah’s family home. After all, he was the new fire chief.
Of course, there was another reason for this picnic—a tiny spark of hope that threatened to flare into something really nice. Maybe even a friendship. Nothing more, of course. Just friends.
Because this was just lunch.
A get-to-know-each-other lunch.
A thank-you lunch.
Get a grip, he told himself.
“So,” Leah said, “where are we going for this picnic?”
“Mr. Burkett told me about a place he takes his grandkids fishing. It’s over by the lighthouse. I thought it might be nice to go take a look,” he said as they headed back to the Jeep with their food.
“I know just the place you’re talking about. Pop used to take me there. It’s perfect.”
A few minutes later, Ryan stopped the Jeep in front of the old lighthouse. According to Mr. Burkett, the place had been standing longer than any building in Vine Beach, an honor that belonged to the Berry place until a few months ago.
Ryan had tried quizzing Burkett about the fire, to no avail. Only the information about the dock’s view had been forthcoming. Apparently the subject was a sore one in Vine Beach, one a newcomer best not bring up.
But as fire chief it was his duty to investigate suspicious fires. And though he’d not seen the ruins close up, the fact that questions on the topic caused such discomfort was reason enough to suspect something was not right.
Of course, could he ask Leah about the fire without stirring things up between them again?
Snatching the bag of sandwiches and drinks, Ryan turned his back on the lighthouse to follow Leah down the sandy trail that wound between the grassy dunes. A bend in the path and suddenly there was the Gulf of Mexico lapping against a dock that jutted far out into the blue-gray water. To his left was the city of Vine Beach, almost close enough to hear the gulls begging at the marina, and straight ahead beyond the dock was what appeared to be an island.
“That’s Sand Island,” Leah said as if reading his mind. “It’s a great place to picnic, too.”
“Duly noted.”
Ryan shifted the bag and glanced to his right. Burkett was correct. From this vantage point he could easily make out the broken and charred columns—three at his count, though there could easily have been four or five.
The house sat on a ridge overlooking the Gulf on one side and, from what he could imagine, rolling fields where palominos grazed on the other. It must have been a beautiful place.
Leah came up beside him and shaded her eyes with her hand. For a moment, she said nothing. Then, silently she turned to walk toward the dock.
Ryan followed her, watched her spread the Beach Mart plastic tablecloth over the ancient boards, and then settled down beside her to place the bag of food and drinks between them.
Below the dock, waves lapped against the pilings then rushed past to break on the sandy shore. Unlike the beach, however, these waves were gentler. More motion than foam.
“There’s a sand bar about forty yards out,” Leah said as she handed him his pastrami on rye. “It keeps the surf from breaking so hard.” She found her sandwich then tucked the bag under the tablecloth. “Makes for great fishing and, if you’re a little kid, some seriously good swimming.”
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” he said as he unwrapped his lunch. “Must have been quite a view from up at the house.”
“It was.” She said the words softly, as if she might be remembering. And then, just as quickly as it appeared, her look of nostalgia disappeared.
Ryan knew he had to tread softly.
He searched for something to fill the silence that lengthened uncomfortably between them. “Have you always worked at Pop’s?”
She chuckled. “No. Pop wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted I get my education and see the world.”
“And you did?”
“I did.”
When she didn’t seem inclined to elaborate, Ryan continued. “But now you’re back in Vine Beach.”
“I am.” A trio of gulls screeched overhead, temporarily distracting her. “So, Ryan, what makes a Houston fireman decide to leave the big city behind and take a job in Vine Beach?”
Interesting. Either Leah didn’t want to talk about herself or she didn’t want to talk about the fire. He took a bite to stall the answer that he didn’t want to give.
“Miss Leah!” a child squealed.
Ryan followed the sound to spy a fair-haired girl of no more than seven or eight racing down the path. A few steps behind came Riley Burkett carrying a pair of cane poles and a small cooler.
Giving thanks for the welcome redirection in conversation, Ryan left his sandwich and climbed to his feet. “Hey there,” he said.
“We meet again.” Burkett grinned at Leah as she rose to hug the girl. “Hope we’re not crashing the party.”
“No,” Leah said. “Not at all. Ryan and I were just having a sandwich to celebrate his new lease.”
Ryan gave her a sideways look. Is that what they were doing? Celebrating? He hadn’t thought of it that way, but the idea bore considering.
“’Preciate you giving Ryan my number, Leah,” the older man said as he set down the cooler at the edge of the dock. “I think he managed to find a nice enough place, don’t you?” He winked at Leah.