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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?
