Reyn's Redemption Page 2

  “Never better. And you?”

  “Hannah, what the devil’s keeping you?” A tall man wearing a straw cowboy hat stalked up behind Hannah and scowled at Reyn.

  “Just sayin’ howdy to Reyn, George. You remember Claire Erikson’s son, don’t you?”

  “Remember him?” George scoffed and gave him a dark glare. “Course I do. I lost a perfectly good barn and several thousand dollars worth of equipment thanks to him and his arson. Not likely to forget a thing like that.”

  Reyn tensed. He sensed Olivia’s curious gaze, but he kept his eyes trained on the man across from him. Animosity radiated from the farmer like the heat waves rippling from the pavement.

  He remembered George Russell. The farmer had been one of his accusers, one of the men who’d convinced the sheriff that the town wasn’t safe with Reyn in it.

  Hannah faced her husband and planted her hands on her hips. “George, that’s ancient history. Leave it alone.”

  “Arson?” Olivia took a step toward George, her stance combative. “He’s no arsonist. I’ll have you know, Reyn’s a lieutenant with the Atlanta Fire Department. He’s been honored several times for his valor and job performance.”

  Reyn gritted his teeth and took Olivia by the arm. “Don’t. Let’s go.”

  Geez, the last thing he wanted was a showdown with George Russell. He’d only been in town a couple of hours, and already the trouble had started.

  “How would you know, missy? You were too young to know Reyn back then, to know the trouble he caused.” George shot Olivia a stern glance. “Your daddy let him get by with it too. Didn’t do his job like he oughta.”

  Olivia drew a sharp breath. “Don’t you dare malign my father! He was a good man, and if he believed in Reyn and gave him the benefit of the doubt, that’s good enough for me.”

  George narrowed a menacing scrutiny on Olivia, and Reyn tightened his grip on her arm, tugged her back from the man challenging her.

  “Olivia, don’t,” he repeated tightly. “Let’s go.”

  “It don’t surprise me none that this boy’d take up with the likes of you soon as he hits town. Billy told us plenty about the kind of Jezebel you are. You and this boy…y’all are birds of a feather.”

  Reyn felt Olivia stiffen and saw a flicker of emotion in her gold eyes. A vulnerability or sadness. Instantly his defenses came up. The slam against Olivia grated his nerves. He had no respect for a man who’d harass a woman. He faced George, drew his shoulders back, and balled his hands in fists at his side.

  His instinct to protect her rivaled his need to protect himself—from her. He didn’t want to identify with her hurt, couldn’t afford to drop his guard around those wounded gold eyes.

  But almost as quickly as the pain had clouded her eyes, a spark of defiance lit them.

  George aimed a finger at Reyn. “You best not make trouble while you’re in town. Hear me? I’ll be watching you, boy.”

  “I’m not here to make trouble.” Keeping his tone even, Reyn met the man’s icy glare. “And I haven’t been a boy for many years.”

  When her husband turned and stalked away, Hannah gave them an apologetic look before following.

  Reyn sighed and rolled the tension out of his shoulders.

  “Welcome to Clairmont,” Olivia said with a wry sideways glance.

  “Maybe it’d be best if I went to see Gram by myself. I don’t want to make any problems for you.”

  “Don’t be silly. That old windbag doesn’t intimidate me.” She tossed her mane of fiery hair over her shoulder and climbed behind the wheel of her Chevette. “Shall we go?”

  Reyn watched George cross the parking lot, the farmer’s back stiff with hostility. He’d have to be careful to avoid George. He didn’t want to cause any more grief for Gram. Or Olivia.

  Across the parking lot, George approached Principal Horton. Horton wore the same dark scowl he’d given Reyn inside the church. The two men conferred, cast glares back at Reyn, then parted ways.

  “Reyn? You comin’?” Olivia called.

  “Yeah.” He rounded the back end of her car, wondering whether the men genuinely thought he posed a threat or if they simply bore a grudge after so many years.

  Popping open the passenger’s door, he stared down at the tiny front seat and contemplated how to best fit his long legs in the limited space. Ducking his head, he lowered himself onto the ripped seat and slowly tucked his feet inside. He bit back a curse when his knees bumped the dashboard.

  “Maybe we should have taken your truck.” Olivia’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

  He shrugged and gave her a wry smile. “Too late now. I’m not sure I could get back out if I wanted to.”

  She laughed as she put the Chevette in reverse and backed out. “I just need the old jalopy to make it until I finish school. I can’t afford a new car now. It runs—usually.” She quirked a sexy, crooked grin and cut a quick glance toward him. “And that’s what counts.”

  “I suppose.” Reyn stared with an eerie detachment out the side window at the aged town. He noted a few changes along Main Street, but everything largely remained the same. Still, time had faded enough of his memories that even what he recognized seemed like echoes of a dream.

  He glanced at Olivia, studied her sun-lit profile. She had a radiant quality that fascinated him, an inner spark evident in the confident way she carried herself.

  “What did George Russell mean about your father? That he didn’t do his job and let me get by with stuff?”

  She gave him an unlady-like snort. “Just sour grapes, I imagine. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I mean…who was your father? Should I remember him?”

  She met and held his gaze. The smoky depths of her eyes, the intelligence and energy glittering there, mesmerized him. Without wanting to be, he found himself intrigued by and drawn to this woman.

  “My father was Ray Crenshaw. He was the sheriff here until he died in a hunting accident when I was five.”

  A vague memory of a lawman coming by their house after the incident at the Russells’ barn lurked in the back of his mind. He dredged up a slightly clearer memory of the same lawman talking with Gram before he was sent to Georgia to live with a relative. But the most vivid memory was of a kind man with strong arms who had restrained him from running to his mother as her draped body was wheeled from their smoldering house.

  Reyn tamped the surge of guilt and grief that particular memory stirred.

  “Did you know him?” Olivia’s voice cut through his daze, held a wistful note that stabbed at him.

  “I think so.” He didn’t elaborate, even though he could tell from her expression she wanted more about his memories of her father. But recalling memories of her father would mean opening the door to events he’d long ago locked away where they couldn’t hurt him. He had no intention of opening the past and all its painful memories while he was in town.

  She turned her attention back to the road, and he heard disappointment in her sigh. Wearing a thoughtful expression, she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. He followed the erotic movement of her tongue and stared at the glistening moisture left in its wake. Desire pumped through him and wound in his gut. He wanted a taste of those lips, but he knew better than to act on his urges.

  Starting anything with Olivia would be a mistake. Starting something would raise her expectations—expectations he couldn’t meet. Starting something would inevitably hurt her, and he’d caused enough pain in this town.

  “Answer something for me now.” Olivia’s auburn eyebrows drew together. “Did you really burn down the Russells’ barn when you were a kid?”

  Reyn hesitated a beat then lifted an eyebrow. “You just told George Russell I wasn’t an arsonist. Don’t you believe what you said?”

  “I… He was just being so ugly to you that I had to say something. Knowing what I do about you, it just seems so ludicrous that you would have—”

  “Well, I did.” His admission drew a startled look from her.
“And as much as I appreciate your vote of confidence, you’re wasting your breath defending me in this town.”

  She stopped for a red light, one of the few traffic lights in town, then cast him a curious glance. “I just—”

  He held up a hand to stop her and shook his head. “I’d rather not go into the reasons why. Just know I earned the reputation I have, and I’m not proud of it.”

  “I know more than you think. Lila tells me a lot.”

  His chest tightened, but he covered his unease with an embarrassed grin. “All of it glowing, I’m sure.”

  He scratched his chin, telling himself he had no reason to worry about what Gram might have revealed to the red-haired spitfire. Even Gram didn’t know the whole truth. “Don’t judge me based on what Gram has told you. She has a distorted version of reality.”

  “Reyn, I—”

  “Light’s green.”

  Her sly smile, one that said she knew a titillating secret about him, triggered alarms in his head. He looked out the passenger’s window, signaling he was through discussing himself.

  Before long, she turned in at the visitor parking lot of the small hospital and took the first available spot. “I guess while you’re home, I’ll have the chance to see for myself who’s right about you, won’t I?”

  Reyn faced her, and her eyes glittered with anticipation, as if rooting out his deepest secrets was an exciting challenge.

  “Clairmont has never been my home…even when I lived here.” He released a sigh, full of his regret and resignation. With that, he pried his legs out from under the dashboard and levered himself out of her tiny front seat.

  He’d have to be careful. A woman like Olivia Crenshaw could be dangerous. She could sneak past his carefully erected defenses and discover things he’d kept hidden for years—things best left locked away where they couldn’t hurt anyone. For her sake, as well as his own, he couldn’t let that happen.

  Like standing too near a fire, if Olivia got too close to him, she would get burned.

  Olivia followed Reyn to the hospital entrance, musing over his last statement. Obviously, he wanted to keep her at arm’s length with his brusque manner. But she saw much more than he probably realized. She sensed an underlying bitterness—and yearning—in his comment about Clairmont.

  Everyone needed a place to call home.

  She studied the flesh and blood man whose calendar picture had ignited numerous steamy daydreams over recent months. The summer sun highlighted his golden tan and made his short, wheat-colored hair appear more blond than light brown. He moved with a controlled power, and the muscles under his shirt told her he kept his body in top form. He was taller than she’d expected, and he exuded a magnetism that photographs couldn’t capture.

  Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how eagerly she’d been anticipating the chance to meet Reyn. Now, finally, she had the opportunity to see for herself if he was everything Lila said and match a voice, a smile, a soul to the two-dimensional calendar image that had fascinated her, mesmerized her. She desperately hoped the real man was as beautiful inside as out. Not only did Lila deserve a worthy grandson, but thanks to her own disastrous relationship with Billy Russell, Olivia had already had her fill of handsome men with little other redeeming characteristics.

  She’d reserve judgment on Reyn’s character until she learned what was inside the man with the athletic body and GQ face. She sensed a sadness, a distance in Reyn that puzzled her. His remoteness resounded inside her like a lonely echo and cautioned her to stay away. She didn’t need to be disappointed, broken-hearted again.

  When he held the front door for her, she rewarded his thoughtfulness with a smile. The brisk chill of the air-conditioned hospital nipped her skin, and she rubbed her arms as they headed to the elevator. “She’s in room three-eleven.”

  He nodded again and stepped into the elevator. “I appreciate your being there for Gram.”

  “I’m glad I could help. Lila’s certainly been there for me enough times. She’s very dear to me.”

  His gray gaze slid over her, seeming to size her up, lingering on her lips. She’d noticed his focus on her lips earlier, and his continued interest in her mouth left her feeling decidedly self-conscious. She’d never given her mouth much consideration, other than to slap on a bit of lipstick. Why did it intrigue him so? Curious, she studied his mouth in return.

  His smooth lips weren’t too full but looked soft and skilled. No doubt Mr. August had plenty of practice kissing. The idea unsettled her, and she jerked her gaze away. She may have kissed him plenty of times in her calendar-driven fantasies, but she had no intention of tangling herself up with a man she knew so little about.

  “Did Gram need surgery?” He shot her a worried glance.

  Olivia nodded. “They operated yesterday, replaced her hip joint. I’m sorry you couldn’t be here then, but when I couldn’t reach you at home, I had a hard time tracking down the phone number for the right fire station.”

  Looking away, Reyn pulled his broad shoulders back, leveling them as if squaring off to face a challenger. She watched him wipe his palms on his pants and fill his lungs with a deep breath as the elevator shuddered and creaked.

  Was he nervous about visiting Lila? Or could his jitters have anything to do with his reason for staying away from Clairmont for so many years? She wanted to believe he had a good reason for his absence, that he wasn’t just selfish.

  Olivia found it hard to reconcile the heroic firefighter, who risked his life to save others, with someone self-centered enough to ignore his family’s needs. Although Reyn arranged for Lila to visit him regularly in Georgia, he couldn’t seem to be bothered to come to Clairmont. Didn’t he know how lonely Lila got? Didn’t he care that his grandmother needed him? He was the only family Lila had left, and Olivia had been raised to believe family always came first. Family mattered most. No matter what.

  Yet he was here now, despite his nerves, whatever their cause. That said a lot.

  He glanced toward her. “Did you tell Gram I was coming?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t want her to be disappointed in case something happened and you couldn’t make it.”

  His eyes darkened like the sky before a storm, and a muscle in his jaw jumped. “Like me backing out and not showing?”

  She raised her chin defensively. “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you thought it.”

  When the elevator doors slid open with a ding, she stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “What I thought was that you might not be able to get away from the fire station, might not be able to find someone to work your shift on such short notice.”

  His steely eyes drilled into her. “My grandmother will always come before work.”

  She matched his hard look with one of her own. “Then why is this your first trip back to Clairmont in twenty years? Do you have any idea how much your grandmother misses you?”

  Dark emotions flashed in his eyes. “My reasons are my business.”

  He stepped around her and headed down the corridor toward Lila’s room. His defensiveness intrigued her. What nerve had she touched to set him off?

  Clairmont has never been my home…even when I lived here. Maybe by the time he left town, she could root out some answers. For herself. For Lila.

  She watched him stalk down the hall and wondered how he’d react when she told him about the papers she’d found in her father’s files. Apprehension tightened its grip on her stomach. She couldn’t help but wonder if Lila’s distress over the mysterious documents hadn’t contributed to her fall. Olivia had been distracted the past few days herself, wondering what the strange notes her father had made about Claire Erikson could mean for Reyn and Lila.

  As she usually did when she thought of her father, she ran her fingers over the ladybug pendant dangling from a gold chain around her neck. It might not be fine jewelry, but to her, the necklace was priceless. The ladybug—her father’s pet name for her—had been his last gift to her bef
ore he died.

  Merry Christmas, ladybug.

  Then fifteen years later, during Olivia’s sophomore year in college, an aggressive tumor had claimed her mother. Her stepfather, Hank, had been left to raise Katy, barely one year old, by himself. Olivia had put college on hold and become Katy’s mother as well as her sister.

  God, she missed her parents. As much as she cared for Hank, her parents’ deaths had stolen a piece of her soul.

  She shook herself from her memories and had to jog to keep up with Reyn’s long-legged strides. When she knocked on Lila’s door, they received a weak, “Yes? Come in.”

  Lila’s face registered shock, then sheer delight when she spotted her grandson. “Oh, Reyn, you sweet boy. What are you doing here?”

  “Question is what are you doing here?” Reyn crossed to Lila’s bedside and leaned down to gently hug her. “I thought I asked you to give up bungee jumping. Now look at you.”

  Olivia moved to the opposite side of the bed, noticing the tears welling in Lila’s eyes, despite her chuckle at his joke.

  “I wish I could claim it was something as exciting as bungee jumping. No, it was a wrinkle in my throw rug that tripped me. Dratted thing.” Lila clung to her grandson’s broad shoulders and patted his back.

  When Reyn pulled out of the hug and gazed down at his grandmother, the warmth and affection in his eyes stole Olivia’s breath. He took Lila’s hand and clasped it between his. The man that stood before her, greeting his grandmother, bore little resemblance to the stony, withdrawn man she’d ridden with in the car. More proof that Reyn Erikson was a complex and multi-faceted man. A man she wanted to learn more about.

  “Olivia, dear, did you go and call my Reyn? You shouldn’t have done that. I’m fine.” She shook a finger at Olivia then turned back to her grandson with a satisfied sigh. “But I’m glad you did.”

  “Tell you what, Gram. We’ll get rid of your rugs. I’ll put in wall-to-wall carpeting for you before you leave the hospital, if you want.”

  She noticed that Lila had yet to release Reyn’s hand. Or vice versa. So the tough guy had a soft spot for his granny? Interesting. And encouraging. But puzzling too. Something didn’t add up.