Reyn's Redemption Read online

  “Oh, darling, you don’t need to do that. It’s just that I’m getting old. I’d trip over something else if not the rug.” Lila shook her head and patted Reyn’s hand.

  “Old?” Reyn scoffed. “You don’t look a day older than thirty. In fact, the guys at the fire station all want to know when you’re coming back for another visit. You have several admirers in Georgia.”

  He winked, and Lila hooted with laughter.

  “I can still turn you over my knee for lying, young man.” She lightly touched the covers near her injured hip. “Well, maybe I can’t at the moment, but I’ll have Olivia tan your backside for me.”

  Reyn’s gaze darted to Olivia’s, and his slate-gray eyes grew warm. “Promise?”

  A lusty rasp deepened his voice, and prickly heat skittered over her skin as she held his gaze. She couldn’t help but conjure up the image of Reyn from the firemen’s calendar, the image that had starred in her sexual fantasies since she’d first seen it. In the photo, Reyn wore nothing but his bunker pants and suspenders. He stood beside a gushing fire hydrant while he poured water from his cupped hands onto his upturned face, down his hard chest, inside the loose bunker pants.

  Olivia’s mouth went dry thinking about the picture, and she had to swallow hard before she could speak. “Hey, if Lila thinks you need a spanking, I’m perfectly willing to dole it out.”

  In response, Reyn lifted one light brown eyebrow, just as he had at the church when she caught him staring. The gesture held a hint of mystery…and a lot of potential.

  Her pulse raced at the prospect, while a nagging voice in her conscience reminded her what had happened the last time she’d fallen for a pretty face. In Billy’s case, beauty was indeed only skin deep.

  To distract herself from the sensual track of her thoughts, Olivia reached in her purse and pulled out the hairbrush she’d brought from Lila’s house. She held it up for the woman to see. “Shall I?”

  Lila patted her head. “Please, dear. I’m afraid I look a fright. Do you have a lipstick in there for me?”

  “Absolutely. Plum Passion.”

  “Wonderful,” Lila said with a sigh.

  Reyn gave Olivia an inscrutable look before turning to his grandmother. “If you don’t want carpeting, is there something else around the house I can take care of while I’m here?”

  Olivia pulled the brush through Lila’s fine white hair, coiling the thin wisps around her fingers and patting the curls in place. The older woman closed her eyes as she worked. Olivia waited for Lila to mention her father’s mysterious papers. Reyn had just given her the perfect opening, yet Lila said nothing.

  “What about your medical care after you leave the hospital?” Reyn pressed. “I need to line up a physical therapist and perhaps a home health nurse to help you at first.”

  “Don’t bother with the nurse. Olivia can help me.”

  Reyn glanced up at Olivia and scowled.

  “Unless I’m mistaken, Olivia’s not a nurse. I’m glad she’s been able to help you in the past, but now you’ll need—”

  “I want Olivia. The nurse can show her what to do.” Lila peered up at her as if seeking confirmation and agreement.

  “I’ll be glad to do what I can. You know I will, but I think Reyn is talking about—”

  “Good. It’s settled.” Lila closed her eyes again and waved her hand to say Olivia should continue brushing her hair.

  Reyn met Olivia’s gaze and shook his head, indicating nothing was settled. He silently watched Olivia brushing Lila’s hair with a peculiar knit in his brow. One by one, he bent his fingers down with his opposite hand until each knuckle popped. The nervous habit intrigued her. Clearly he loved his grandmother. So why did visiting her make him so anxious?

  “There is something you can do for me while you’re home, Reyn.” Lila’s voice was little more than a whisper.

  He stopped fidgeting and leaned forward. “What is it, Gram? You name it.”

  Olivia held her breath and waited, her heart tapping an expectant rhythm.

  “I’ve recently learned some things that concern me.” A sad, tired quality tinged Lila’s normally cheerful voice.

  A glance at Reyn’s face confirmed that he heard the difference too. His thick eyebrows drew together, and his lips pressed in a thin, grim line. “What…kind of things?”

  “Things about your mother’s death. About the fire. I won’t have any peace until I have answers—” The old woman’s voice cracked, and Olivia’s heart twisted.

  She hated stirring up this worry for Lila, but what else could she have done with the troubling information she’d found?

  Lila’s eyes fluttered open and held a blaze of purpose. Her gaze found her grandson’s and held. Olivia saw the color drain from Reyn’s face.

  “Olivia was cleaning her attic the other day and found some old files in a box of her father’s things. He was the sheriff once, you know.”

  Reyn’s gaze lifted to Olivia’s, suspicion narrowing his eyes.

  “She showed me the files, because they mentioned the fire that killed your mother, my Claire. It seems he wasn’t satisfied with the coroner’s findings. He still had questions about Claire’s death. Things that were never mentioned to me.”

  Reyn squeezed Lila’s hand. “What did the papers say?”

  “Nothing concrete,” Olivia volunteered when Lila faltered. “Just lots of speculation and a handwritten note mentioning questions he had about the coroner’s report.”

  Lila found her voice again. “I want you to find out everything you can about the fire that killed your mother, Reyn.” Lila raised a gnarled finger and aimed it at him to punctuate her point. “Ray Crenshaw had decided the facts didn’t add up, and I want to know why. I’m betting you’ll find that your mother’s death was no accident.”

  Chapter Two

  “I want to help,” Olivia said, breaking the tense silence that had filled the car since they left the hospital.

  “Help with what?” Reyn spoke in a quiet voice and narrowed eyes the color of rain on her, eyes with a sensual intensity that pierced straight to her feminine core.

  She grunted her disbelief that he didn’t understand what should have been obvious. “I want to help find out what happened to your mother. Lila is my friend…no, more than a friend. She’s like family to me. If finding out more about the fire will give her some peace of mind, I’m in.”

  Reyn turned toward the passenger’s window, his brow puckered in a frown. “I don’t need any help. And until I see those papers you found for myself, I’m not promising that I’ll do anything either.”

  “But you promised Lila you’d do your best to find out what really happened.”

  “To appease her,” he said then fell silent. The brooding loner was back. If she hadn’t seen his warmth when they first met, his kindness to Katy and his teasing with his grandmother, Olivia would not have believed this was the same man. But which was the real Reyn? The discrepancy bothered her, left her off balance.

  “Then you didn’t mean it?” she asked warily.

  He sighed. “I didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

  She squeezed the steering wheel tighter in frustration. “Why would you tell her no? Her daughter is dead, and she deserves to know why. Especially if foul play was involved like my dad suspected.”

  He glanced at her again, and his eyes flashed with determination. And some other emotion she couldn’t pinpoint. “Leave it alone.”

  Olivia’s heart sank. Surely he wouldn’t shirk his promise to Lila, would he? The man who’d stayed away from Clairmont for twenty years might, but the man who’d held such love in his eyes when he greeted Lila wouldn’t. That warm and caring man was the one she had to convince. But how did she reach him when he kept himself so distant? For Lila’s sake, she had to find a way.

  He drew a deep breath, and she watched him flex and curl his fingers into fists. His body vibrated with palpable tension equal to her own frustration and confusion. She wanted to ease wha
tever anxiety had him strung so tight. But not only did she sense a pat on the back or comforting stroke from her would be unwelcome, she knew her reasons for wanting to touch him weren’t purely altruistic. His chiseled features begged to be touched, to be explored by curious fingers. But to do so would be asking for trouble. She reached for her ladybug pendant instead, rubbing the smooth metal and taking a bit of solace from it.

  When they arrived at the church, she pulled her car alongside a silver Sierra Z71. Considering it was the lone truck in the gravel lot and bore a bumper sticker reading “My other truck is a Tiller Rig”, she knew it had to be Reyn’s.

  While he unbuckled his seatbelt, she gave her argument another shot, working to keep her tone calm. “Don’t you think she has a right to know the truth?”

  He shook his head. “Not if the truth will hurt her. She’s been hurt enough, and I don’t want her to suffer anymore. So leave it alone, all right?”

  When he faced her, a haunted expression darkened his eyes and stirred a response inside her that sliced to the bone. She longed for some way to help him fight the ghosts he was battling. He clenched his teeth so tight, a muscle in his cheek jumped. Again, the urge to touch his cheek, to soothe his tension spun through her with a stunning force. She lifted her hand to trace the hard line of his jaw, but he pulled away. Without another word, he opened the door and climbed out.

  Leaving her engine idling, Olivia hopped out and scurried around her Chevette to catch him before he could drive away.

  “Wait. What do you mean, ‘The truth will hurt her’?” She grabbed his arm, absently noting that the muscles under her fingers were hard and tight, his body in peak condition for the demands of his job as a firefighter. “You can’t drop a bomb like that and walk away.”

  Sighing, he faced her. “Olivia, this doesn’t have anything to do with you. As much as I appreciate everything you’ve done for Gram, you need to butt out of this.”

  He turned to unlock the door of his truck, and she squeezed the muscles of his arm tighter to stop him again.

  “Tell me why. Why would it hurt her?”

  “Goodbye, Olivia. Thanks for the ride, but next time we’ll take my truck.” He climbed onto the front seat and cranked his engine. The truck rumbled to life, and when he tried to close the door, she stepped in the way.

  “I’m going to do this. Lila is the closest thing to a mother I’ve had in years, and I won’t let her down. My father had questions. Lila needs answers, and I intend to find them. With or without your help.”

  Reyn gave her a sharp glance, cursed bitterly and jumped from the front seat with an angry thrust. When he faced her, she backed against his truck, making room for his wide shoulders. She looked up to find frustration blazing in his eyes.

  “What is it with you?” He ran his hands over his short-cropped hair, leaving it enticingly mussed, then exhaled a harsh breath. “Why do you want to stir up trouble? Hasn’t my mother’s death caused enough pain in my family without rehashing the details? She’s gone, and nothing we could learn now will bring her back.”

  Olivia jutted out her chin and met his fierce gaze with her own. “I’m not trying to cause trouble. I’m trying to give Lila some peace. Doesn’t it bother you that there could be more to the fire that killed your mom than the authorities are telling?”

  He growled and braced his arm on the side of the truck near her head. Rather than quashing her desire to find out more about the long-ago fire, his defensiveness fanned the spark of her curiosity. Was he protecting secrets? Or running from them?

  With his gaze drilling into hers, he stepped closer, trapping her against the sun-baked side of his truck. She became keenly aware of every inch of his muscled body aligned so intimately with hers.

  “Let me take care of what to tell my grandmother. You stick to bringing her lipstick and fluffing her pillow, okay?”

  Sticky heat wavered through the thick July air. Yet with his body pressed close to hers, a shiver raced through her. His scent, a combination of soap, sun and sensual man, surrounded her, teasing her imagination. The picture of him from the calendar, water droplets clinging to his bare chest and slicking his hair, flashed in her mind and sent rivers of desire coursing through her.

  She cupped her palm on his cheek, and this time he didn’t withdraw. Slowly she dragged her hand along the stubble-roughened line of his jaw, smoothed her thumb across his lips. The intensity in his eyes softened, the muscles in his face relaxed a degree, and she felt him shudder. She rewarded his eased manner with a half smile, noticing that his gaze zeroed in on her lips again when she did. Just by lifting her head an inch or two, she could kiss him, could discover how those unsmiling lips tasted. Tempting, yes. But a fling with a man who was so closed and mysterious wasn’t what she needed in her life.

  He caught her hand with his larger one, swallowing her fingers in his warm grasp. The calluses on his palm gently chafed her skin and caused a flurry of sensation to dance along her nerve endings.

  “What happened back then, Reyn? What are you protecting your grandmother from?” she whispered.

  His grip on her hand tightened, and he pushed it away from his face. The sadness had returned to his eyes. “Some things are just best left alone.”

  She shook her head. “Not good enough. What are you hiding?”

  He stiffened. Wariness flickered in his eyes. “Please, don’t interfere, Olivia. I’m warning you.”

  “And if I don’t heed your warning?” She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head, challenging him. “What will you do?”

  He clenched his teeth and glared at her. “Are you always this aggravating?”

  She smiled unrepentantly. “Yes.”

  He stepped back, grunted and kicked the gravel with the toe of his dress shoe. When he looked up at her again, he gave her an exasperated sigh. “Get in the truck. If you insist on discussing this, can we at least go somewhere it’s not hot as hell and quite so public?”

  The idea of being alone with him, for whatever reason, appealed to her, kicked up her pulse. “Promise you’ll tell me what this is all about?”

  “All I’m promising is to look at your dad’s files. Now get in the truck. Please.”

  “Let me get my keys.” She moved around him, cut her engine and hurried back to the driver’s side of his Sierra. He put a hand on either side of her ribs to help her climb onto the front seat, and the heat of his fingers burned through the thin fabric of her dress.

  She smiled her thanks to him, but his answering nod did little to relieve his closed, guarded expression. Disappointment plucked at her. She wished he’d lower the wall he had put between them, that he’d share whatever was troubling him and holding him back.

  With a sigh, she reminded herself that the intimacy and closeness that inspired such confidence were hard earned, built over time and proven in trial by fire. She doubted that in the brief time Reyn would be in town to care for Lila, they’d have the chance to reach that level of openness and trust. And her ill-fated relationship with Billy Russell had proven that you never really knew a person until you reached that soul-deep level of communication and sharing.

  Blinded by Billy’s handsome face, she hadn’t seen his lack of character until too late. He’d cheated on her, trashed her reputation with lewd lies, and cast the blame on her when things soured between them. She’d wasted months of her life on a guy whose moral fiber wasn’t worth the time of day. But never again.

  Yet despite her caution, a gut-level instinct told her she could help Reyn. If she could earn his confidence, maybe she could help him resolve that elusive something that had kept him away from Clairmont so long. Having Reyn back would mean so much to Lila.

  She just had to be careful. With Reyn, she had to lead with her head instead of her heart.

  Reyn slowed his truck and parked in front of the old farmhouse he’d thought he’d never see again. Gram’s house was much as he remembered except for the obvious wear of time and weather. The wood siding of the Depress
ion-era home needed a new coat of white paint. One of the dark green shutters hung at an angle, and the steps to the front porch sagged.

  Reyn made a mental note to shore up the steps along with the other cosmetic fix-ups the house needed before he left town. He cut the engine and stared at the old home for a minute.

  “Bring back memories?” Olivia asked softly.

  “Yeah.” He studied the two-story farmhouse and its carefully tended flower beds, but he felt Olivia’s gaze.

  His senses had been in overdrive the whole morning around her. Somehow having her in his truck, his domain, made him all the more aware. Every movement she made on the drive to Gram’s house stoked his hyper-alert nerve endings, every shift in her seat called his attention back to her sleek legs.

  “Good memories?”

  He turned to her now, keeping his expression impassive. “Some are good.”

  “Concentrate on those.”

  Before he could respond, she opened the passenger’s door and slid out of the truck. He followed her to the front porch, and she dug in her purse. When she used a key on her ring to open Gram’s door, he gave her a querying look.

  “I’ve had it for a couple years. Seemed like a good idea, and her fall the other day proves I was right.” She stepped inside and flipped on the front hall light as if she lived there, then tossed her purse on the old-fashioned washstand by the stairs. “I come by every day to check on her, to see if she needs anything, to talk to her, to fix her hair, to bring her prescriptions from the pharmacy, that sort of thing.”

  The house smelled musty with a hint of mothballs and recent baking. The same framed, cross-stitched prayer still graced the wall by the light switch as when he had been ten. The same scatter rug lay at the foot of the stairs. The same school-age pictures of himself and his mother hung in stair-steps along the wall to the second floor. While he stood in the foyer and turned slowly, taking in the familiar details, Olivia walked over to the thermostat and clicked on the air conditioning, then disappeared into the kitchen.