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An awkward silence fell. “Okay, well,” Leah said, “I’ll just let you enjoy your shrimp.”
“Wait. If you’re not in a hurry, can you answer some questions about Vine Beach?”
* * *
Ryan clamped his mouth shut. Had he actually asked a total stranger for help?
Yup, he had. But her eyes were kind. And he was tired of being alone. Especially today.
He dared a look at the redhead and saw that she seemed to be considering the question. “You don’t have to,” he hurried to add. “I mean I’m... I was just thinking maybe you could fill me in. I’m new here.” He gestured to the stack of real estate listings, meager as they were. “Guess you already figured that out, though.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the older fellow watching them from the kitchen door and then she nodded and sat. “Sure, why not?”
Ryan reached across the table to offer his hand. “I’m Ryan,” he said as his gaze collided with wide green eyes, noted a sprinkling of freckles. “Ryan Owen.”
“Pleased to meet you, Ryan Owen. I’m Leah.” Her grasp was firm as she took his hand.
“Just Leah?” he said.
“Leah Berry.” She paused only a second as if gauging whether the name held meaning to him. “So, what brings you to Vine Beach?”
There were a dozen possible answers. He decided on the easiest. “Work. Apparently the city’s been without a fire chief since...”
“Since my father’s illness,” she supplied.
Now what? With those green eyes pointed in his direction, his mind went blank. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed to say.
“No, it’s fine. He’s...well, it was time for him to retire. Welcome to Vine Beach,” she said with the beginnings of a smile. “I’m glad the position’s been filled. Pop would be glad, too.”
He let out a long breath. “Maybe he could give me some pointers, then.”
Her smile disappeared. “I don’t know. He’s not...well.”
“Right. Sure.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d just stomped all over a touchy subject. “So, anyway, I’ve kind of put everything off until the last minute and now I’m scrambling for a place to stay. I thought I’d just get a hotel room but apparently the hotel’s closed until February.”
“Yes, the owners spend the winter with their children in Florida. I always thought it was funny to leave one beach to vacation at another one.” She chuckled. “But then I’m easily amused. Anyway, I might be able to help you find a short-term rental until you can figure out where in Vine Beach you’d like to live permanently.”
Permanently. That word and Vine Beach refused to fit in the same sentence as far as Ryan was concerned.
“Don’t need much. It’s just me and my dog.” He reached for the real estate papers. “I can’t make much sense of these. Looks like my choices are pretty slim. Either take a room over the beauty shop courtesy of my new boss or spend a whole bunch to rent a big place on the highway.”
“Hmm....” She picked up the first paper and began to scan it. “Ima’s Beauty Shop or the highway? Slim pickings indeed. Let me see if I recognize any other local addresses in here.”
While she read, he watched, something that felt oddly natural given the reason for today’s lunch. Mourning his late wife, Jenna, wouldn’t bring her back, and neither would keeping the promises she’d extracted from him before she died.
And yet here he sat keeping at least one of them, the one about moving to the beach, while working hard to remember the others. Something about the redhead’s smile made him feel better about giving up everything he’d worked for to come and live at the beach where he’d be starting over with not much hope for advancement. When a guy was chief of a department where he was the only paid employee, the only ladder to climb was the one on the ancient and apparently little-used fire truck.
“Here’s one.” Her gaze lifted to meet his. “It’s two blocks from the high school and walking distance to downtown.” She turned the paper around to point to an ad he’d somehow missed.
“Three bedrooms, one bath and a fenced yard,” he read. “Sounds perfect. What’s the number?”
He punched them into the phone as Leah read them off. A moment later, he had the landlord on the phone. “So it’s already leased,” he said after he’d given the man the reason for his call. “Thanks anyway.”
Leah made a face and Ryan chuckled despite his dashed hopes. “Apparently the new science teacher at the high school got to the place before me. Oh well.”
“Oh well indeed.” She set the paper aside. “I’d offer our barn but I don’t think it’d be too comfortable what with the holes in the roof and the lack of heat or plumbing.”
He followed her gaze out the window toward a broad expanse of rolling grassland populated with a dozen or more golden palomino horses. Off in the distance was a building of substantial size, its wooden exterior silvered with age. Just beyond the barn was a smudge of black on the horizon, possibly the burned ruins of a home. His interest immediately piqued.
Ryan’s attention returned to the barn. “Is that yours?”
“It is,” she said, her voice soft, almost dreamlike. “It’s been in the Berry family for generations. The house, too. Or, rather, it was until recently.”
He shifted to look at the ruins again. “It burned?”
“Yes, back in March.” She shook her head. “Hey, you know what? There are a whole bunch of weekly rentals here that I bet are sitting empty. I’d rent you ours but I’m living in it right now.” She shook her head. “Don’t ask.”
He laughed. “All right. Any suggestions where to start?”
“I’ll make a call. How can I reach you?”
Ryan tore off a corner of one of the real estate papers and reached for a pen. Jotting down his cell phone number, he handed it to Leah. “Don’t need much. Just a place to sleep and maybe a yard for the dog. Beach view would be ideal, but I doubt that’ll happen.”
He could hope though. Nothing like waking up to the sound of waves just outside his door.
Leah’s brows gathered. “You have not because you ask not. At least that’s what the Bible says. So, you start asking and I’ll make a call or two and see what I can find out. When do you need the place and how long are you planning to stay?”
“Now,” he said. “Last week, really. It’s already Wednesday and I start work Monday morning.”
“Oh, goodness. Okay, so how long?”
“Six months?” By then he’d have fulfilled his promise to Jenna and could be on his way back to the Houston Fire Department. At least that had been the plan when he had applied for his leave of absence.
The redhead folded the paper in half and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans then rose. “I’ll get right on this. In the meantime, can I bring you some pie? It’s—”
“Banana cream,” he said along with her. “Yes, please, but maybe I ought to get it to go.”
Again her brows furrowed. “Why’s that?”
He nodded toward the old cook who’d been eyeing them suspiciously for the past five minutes. “I’m guessing I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
“Ignore Orlando. He tends to be a bit overprotective.”
Ryan snatched up the check and opened his wallet. “Nothing wrong with that. So how about I settle up this bill while you box up a slice of pie?”
Only when he climbed behind the steering wheel of his Jeep with the pie on the seat beside him did the reality of what he’d just done hit him. Not only had he invited a strange woman to sit with him on what would have been his first wedding anniversary, but he’d ended up giving her his phone number.
Closing his eyes, Ryan rested his head on the back of the seat and let out a long breath. When would this get easier? As he backed out of the parking lot of Pop’s Seafood Shack he had a feeling things were about to get a whole lot worse before they got better.
Chapter Two
Orlando now stood at the entrance, his stance unmistakably paternal. “What happened over there?”
“Just helping a stranger to find a place to live in Vine Beach. Apparently he’s taking Pop’s old job as fire chief.” At Orlando’s surprised expression, Leah continued, “It’s fine. He seems nice. I told him I’d make a couple of calls.”
“How about you let Riley Burkett help that stranger?”
She thought of the Realtor whose recent marriage to the town veterinarian’s mother had caused him to scale back on his real estate business. “I thought he wasn’t going to work during the off-season.”
Orlando shrugged. “Won’t know unless you ask him.” His eyes narrowed. “Besides, you don’t know this man from Adam and I’d rather you not get too involved in his personal life.”
She shook her head. “Are you serious? I don’t know a thing about Ryan other than the fact he’s looking for a place here.”
“Ryan is it?” Orlando shook his head.
Leah linked arms with Pop’s best friend. “He’s the new fire chief, remember? I was just being nice.”
Orlando gave her a skeptical look before placing his weathered hand over hers. “Any fellow who wants to spend time with you will have to spend some time with me first.”
She almost opened her mouth to remind Orlando that she was, in fact, well past the age where she needed that sort of supervision.
“I’ll be sure to let you know soon as a fellow wants to spend time with me. Now, go on home. I don’t mind finishing up here.”
“I’ll go, but lock the door behind you.” Orlando paused to glance across the highway. “Guessing you’ll make a stop at the stables before you go home.”
She shrugged. “Until I can afford to hire someone to do it, I’m in charge there, too.”
Orlando’s expression softened. “Maybe it’s time to let those horses...”
“Go?” Leah shook her head as she thought of the half-dozen palominos that were left of the once-expansive Berry herd. “I can’t do that, Orlando. Not yet.”
She released her grip on the man who’d taken over where Pop left off then felt the unexpected sting of tears. With a quick hug and a word of thanks, she sent Orlando on his way. Then, turning the lock behind her, Leah set to work. By the time she stopped, the place had been thoroughly mopped, shined and polished, though it didn’t really need a bit of it. But she felt better, or at least she’d worked out the majority of her frustration.
Pop had been decidedly worse when she’d visited this morning. Though she knew she’d eventually lose him to Alzheimer’s disease, Leah mourned every step on the way down the slippery slope.
A few minutes later she’d locked up and driven the short distance across the highway to her favorite part of the family property, Berry Hill Stables. Carefully avoiding looking over in the direction of the burned-out shell that remained of her family’s pre–Civil War home—the latest casualty of her father’s inability to function safely on his own—Leah turned toward the pasture. There the last remaining horses from the once-plentiful herd were waiting.
“No ride today, Maisie,” she said as climbed up on the bottom rung of the fence and petted the palomino mare’s sand-colored mane. While Leah was busy with Maisie, the mare’s partner in crime, a glorious filly named Boo, ambled up and nudged at the pocket that both horses knew would contain their favorite snack.
Leah pulled out two apples, offering one first to the impatient Boo then to the more tolerant Maisie. The sound of tires on gravel caught her attention, and her heart sank.
“Oh, please. Not today,” she said under her breath.
Jack Murdoch—land developer, current mayor of Vine Beach and an old friend of Pop’s—honked his horn, sending the skittish Maisie and the rest of the herd galloping for open pasture. Boo, however, munched on her apple from a safe distance as the pickup approached. By the time the old man pulled his truck to a stop a few feet away and turned off the engine, Leah found she could force a smile. No matter how she felt about Mayor Murdoch and his real estate investors, she’d not allow him to see it on her face.
The old man’s gaze swept the horizon, no doubt taking in the ruined home, the still-sturdy barn and various outbuildings that dotted the vast golden prairie. Bordered by the horizon to the north and the beach to the south, Berry land also included Pop’s Seafood Shack and the little oceanfront cabin where she now lived.
“Good afternoon, Mayor. What brings you out this way?” she said, anxious to be rid of her guest.
“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.”
