Authors: Rosanna Leo
Shane popped the top on his can of root beer and took a long swig. It was hot, even for August, and he wiped at the beads of sweat on his brow. Tempting as it was, he resisted the urge to keep his shirt off and drive topless to his new home. He quickly threw on the T-shirt he had stashed next to him. He was the fire captain, after all, and driving shirtless might not make the right impression on Riverbend's townsfolk.
It was probably also not the proper way to greet his new landlady.
"Don't want to scare the old girl,” he joked, smiling to himself.
He started up his old truck and reviewed the directions Mr. Mitchell had given him to the Baker farm. They seemed simple enough. Straight through town on the main street, turn right at the train tracks and continue down Fourth Line. The Baker farm was apparently at the end of the street.
Shane shielded his light brown eyes against the sun, as he headed through town. It was fortunate he had heard about the sudden vacancy at the Baker farm. Good thing he'd run into that nice woman Claire at the town hall. She'd assured him the farm was exactly the sort of home he wanted: some character, near town but not too near, and not a cold apartment building. Whatever it was, it was available at a reasonable rate and saved him a lot of house hunting.
Still, he couldn't help wondering what it would be like. “Probably a doily on every possible surface,” he murmured. “The landlady probably knits her own clothes and has a curfew of eight p.m."
For a moment, he considered driving back to the little motel which had been his home for the past couple of weeks, but decided against it.
He hadn't met Ms. Juliet Baker, and he had been impressed all their negotiations had been conducted via e-mail. For an old girl, she was progressive.
"How many old women even have a computer?” he wondered aloud for the tenth time.
He wasn't sure he was sold on living in this stranger's house, but he was willing to give it a try. It would most likely be a very quiet existence, which was what he was hoping for. After all the emotional upheaval of the last few years, he craved some solitude and quiet. Living with a nice, old lady was probably just the ticket. If it ended up being too much solitude, he could always find a new place.
From a distance, he spied the farm and was pleasantly surprised. It was huge, so big he'd likely never run into Ms. Baker at all. It was a nice-looking house too, with all those bright shutters and large windows. In fact, it was the sort of house you might see on a real estate poster, the sort of place you'd dream of settling down in.
Shane remembered a conversation he'd once had with Alana. They had briefly discussed buying a place like the Baker farmhouse. In fact, he had suggested it, but Alana had pooh-poohed the idea. She had never really been one for country living. She much preferred their cramped house in town...
Of course, that was another time and place.
With a deep breath and his eyes focused on the dirt road ahead, Shane relegated all thoughts of Alana to the closed, back compartment in his mind.
It was time to start over.
"It's time to meet ole Ms. Baker."
Still rattled by her encounter with the topless hunk at the gas station, Jules reached the farm. At least seeing Mr. Mitchell had been nice. He never changed. She'd spent the last few months hating the fact some people were so changeable, untrustworthy. She'd needed to see not everyone was like Kevin, that some were like her, loyal to the end.
She began to grow excited again. The decision to come home had been a monumental one. On passing the fire station, she'd wondered if she was doing the right thing, but on the meandering drive back to the farm, she realized it felt right.
She'd made a good choice. For the first time in a while.
Jules pulled up to the farm amidst a flurry of gravel and dust, and parked in the garage out back. She turned off the ignition and sat in the Jeep for a moment, and then she went out to look at the house.
It was nice, as far as farmhouses went, and her parents’ pride and joy. So many memories came flooding back as she gazed at the rambling Victorian. Although the property was quiet, it came suddenly to life in her mind's eye.
She could envision Claire chasing her down the length of the wrap-around porch, screaming to have her favorite pullover given back. Jules could also see herself as a pony-tailed youngster, swinging on the porch swing after helping her mother with the chores.
If she allowed herself to delve even further into her bank of memories, she could see her mom knitting in her favorite chair in the back garden. How she loved watching her mother's slender fingers manipulate the wool, transforming it into lovely shawls and baby blankets for friends. Even though Jules had had no patience to learn how to knit, she'd always looked forward to sitting with her mom, and swapping tales over lemonade.
And if she sneaked a glimpse at the barn door to her left, she'd see her father again, puttering away with his many tools and tending to the cows.
It was also the spot where she came upon him that final time, his figure prostrate and lifeless on the ground.
"There was nothing you could do,” she reminded herself. “He was already gone. At least he passed in the place he loved."
It had been a heart attack, plain and simple. But when her mother had followed him a mere six months later, the shock had been just as overpowering as the grief.
Of course
, Jules reminded herself,
they were already old when they had us.
Hugh and Carol Baker had tried for years to have children, and then finally stopped trying, assuming it wasn't meant to be. Claire and Jules had somehow surprised them in their later years. The girls knew their parents wouldn't be around forever, but Jules was still surprised at how quickly her mother seemed to fade without her husband.
"I hear that's how it often is with older couples,” Claire had said upon the death of their mother. “One goes, and the other follows. It's kind of romantic, in a way."
It hadn't felt romantic to Jules. In fact, there had never been a time in her life which seemed less romantic, especially after Kevin betrayed her. He had only added insult to the injury of her parents’ deaths.
"No.” She got out of the Jeep and slammed the door behind her. “I wasted enough time on that man. I refuse to give him a single, extra thought."
She trudged up the path to the porch, trying her best to push Kevin, her parents and her past to the back of her mind. There was enough to think about, just sorting out her future.
She knew the house would be in good shape, if in need of a major cleaning. Claire had been back regularly, just to check in on the place, and the Andersons next door had promised to keep an eye on it as well. It seemed upon the first cursory inspection they were true to their word, which was a relief because Jules knew she could not have stepped foot on the property before today.
Even now, it was hard to forget the pain enveloping her beloved family home.
Certainly, there could have been worse places to have a homecoming, notably the apartment on Elizabeth Street. She didn't relish having to pass the site where she'd discovered Kevin that day, although she knew she'd have to see it at some point.
"Damn that man.” She fumbled in her purse for her keys.
There was no time to think of Kevin. Not when her first boarder, Captain Gaskill, was descending on her that evening. She'd hoped to have a bit more time to prepare for his arrival, but he'd seemed eager to move out of his motel and had assured her by email he wasn't afraid of a little dust.
If only he weren't a firefighter. She inhaled deeply, wondering if this was going to prove to be a horrific mistake. A firefighter. What was she thinking?
However, Claire had convinced her because he was a captain, an authority figure, he couldn't possibly be like the other firefighters she knew. The ones who had helped Kevin betray her. Jules figured Captain Gaskill would be a sweet, old guy. His e-mails were cordial enough. Surely he wouldn't be interested in the juvenile shenanigans of his men.
She put the key in the lock, and heard a car zooming up the dirt road towards the house.
"No,” she gasped. “He can't be here already! I haven't even gone in yet!” With mounting dread, she turned to face the driver.
Shane pulled up to his new abode and parked next to a sporty, little Mazda. He couldn't help laughing. “No station wagons for my little, old landlady. Her car is better than mine."
Even though he knew he had a couple of sportier models, currently being stored at his dad's place, he loved his dirty pick-up. Bear, as he liked to call it because of its temperamental nature, had seen him through many adventures and he just couldn't part with it. He loved Bear, even though Alana had never wanted to set foot in it.
"You come from money, Shane,” she used to whine. “It's time to stop driving your hillbilly truck."
He'd laughed at first, until he realized she wasn't joking.
Once again, breathing deeply, he dismissed his memories of Alana.
Launching his six-foot-plus frame up the steps two by two, Shane reached for the doorbell. He rang twice but no one answered. Then, his keen senses kicked in and he picked up the sound of two voices, a woman's and a man's. They seemed to be coming from around the back of the house.
Quietly, he walked down the length of the wrap-around porch. He could pick up bits of the conversation before he even saw the two people. They were clearly arguing.
"What makes you think you can just show up here after six months? Have you forgotten everything you did? I want you out of here, Kevin."
"Jules, you never gave me a chance to explain..."
"Exactly what sort of explanation were you planning on offering? Did those women just lie down at your feet? ‘Oh, please, Kevin. Take me, take me!’”
Shane's eyebrows rose. This woman was mad, and he felt a bit seedy overhearing their exchange. He was about to head back to the car and wait when something the woman said caught his ear.
"And you, a firefighter, of all things. Sworn to protect your community, but you didn't give a damn about your own girlfriend."
She sounded so angry, yet plaintive at the same time. Her vulnerability touched him and he decided to stick around. Besides, the man was a firefighter. Shane's curiosity got the better of him and he poked his head around the corner of the porch.
When he saw the woman, his breath caught in his throat. It was her, the rude but delectable brunette from the gas station. The one, he loathed to admit, he'd been thinking of almost the entire drive over.
"We meet again,” he whispered. “Maybe Ms. Baker has a gorgeous granddaughter?"
Gorgeous didn't seem to be the right word for her, he decided, as he watched her argue with the firefighter. Her delicate face had blushed rosy pink from anger, and her bright eyes shone with indignation. She was splendid in her fury, from her cropped black hair to the shapely legs extending from her khaki shorts. Her body was tense, but her stiff shoulders could not detract from the soft, swelling bosom below them. The woman's fists were clenched, so much so he ached to calm and relax her. Her generous lips were pursed into a tight line, but he remembered their sweet fullness when she'd gawked open-mouthed at him at the gas station.
No, her anger did nothing to diminish her many charms. Gorgeous wasn't quite a strong enough word to describe her. Stunning seemed more appropriate.
"Oh, come on, babe,” the other man replied. “You always took things so seriously."
"You mean, like our relationship? Yes, I did."
"I swear, those others meant nothing to me."
Listening to the other man, the other firefighter, Shane felt his own anger rising. How many others did he have when he had this knockout as a girlfriend?
"Kevin, I can't do this right now. Please, just go.” Her eyes grew moist.
Her tears were not lost on Shane. He felt his stomach clench, and he was seized by the extraordinary impulse to protect her. She might be a bit odd, careening away from him earlier, but something in her luscious figure and angelic face called to him.
He heard the other man, Kevin, begin to protest. And then, Shane heard his own baritone voice cutting through it. “I believe the lady asked you to leave."
Shocked, the other two turned to see Shane hurtle over the porch railing to the yard below. He pulled himself to his full height and approached Kevin and the brunette.
"Who the hell are you?” Kevin demanded. “This is a private conversation."
"The lady asked you to leave.” He nodded at her, and then came to within a foot of Kevin's face. “Consider it an order from your captain."
"What?” Kevin blurted, as the woman's jaw hit the floor.
"
You're
the new fire captain?” she asked. And then her eyes dropped to his chest, the one he'd last displayed in its naked, sweaty glory.
Shane inclined his head toward her and smiled. Damn. Up close she was even prettier. At that moment, he would have given anything to get rid of that Kevin.
"Captain Gaskill?” Kevin ventured. A comical flurry of emotions flew across his face, betraying everything from anger at being interrupted to fear for his job.
"And you are?"
"Kevin McGuinness. It seems you're my new boss,” he said slowly, as if mentally choosing his tactic for dealing with the unwanted newcomer. “You've got the wrong idea, though. This lady and I have a relationship..."
"
Had
a relationship,” she broke in.
"Mr. McGuinness, we'll talk again when I'm settled at the station.” Shane used his most authoritative tone, the one that brooked no opposition.
Kevin, blue eyes blazing and blushing himself now, stared down his captain. Shane suppressed a chuckle, wondering at his luck at making an enemy in Riverbend, despite having only been there a few days. He could see Kevin wanted to take a swing him, but had enough brains to decide against it.
Instead, the man addressed the woman. “I'll talk to you soon."
"Whatever,” she replied. As soon as Kevin pulled away in the Mazda, she stormed toward the house.