Her Holiday Fireman. Kathleen Y'Barbo
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