Kathleen Y'Barbo - Her Holiday Fireman

The old man’s gaze swept the horizon, no doubt taking in the ruined home, the still-sturdy barn and various outbuildings that dotted the vast golden prairie. Bordered by the horizon to the north and the beach to the south, Berry land also included Pop’s Seafood Shack and the little oceanfront cabin where she now lived.

“Good afternoon, Mayor. What brings you out this way?” she said, anxious to be rid of her guest.

“Had a nice visit with your daddy just now.” He smiled. “Told me to tell you he misses seeing you.”

“I was there this morning,” she said before she could stop herself.

Pop’s memory issues often caused him to forget who’d come to see him. It took all she had not to remind the mayor of this. Instead she kept her mouth shut even as she began to aim her prayers skyward. If the Lord answered quickly enough, Leah just might find a way to remember her manners.

“He also told me to tell you he’d be just fine with you letting all this go.” The mayor swung his attention to meet her stare. “You know that restaurant ain’t up to fire code, and the house over there ought to have been torn down the night it burned. It’s plain foolishness that keeps both of them standing.”

Leah’s fists clenched. Still she said nothing. Though it was quite possible Pop said just that, it was also true that he’d neither remember nor agree with the idea should she ask him next time she saw him.

Not that it mattered, for she had the final say in all legal matters now, not Pop.

Finally the mayor let out a long sigh. “Look, honey, we’re on the same side here.” Murdoch rested his elbow on the open window of the truck. “All the boys and I are trying to do is help.”

“Then, please, let the boys know I appreciate their concern. However, Berry land is not for sale. Not now, and not ever.” She mustered up one last sweet smile. “So, thank you for the visit, but now that you’ve delivered your message, I hope you’ll understand that I’ve got things to do.”

To punctuate her statement, Leah turned her back on the mayor and headed for the barn. She’d almost reached the weathered barn doors when she heard the truck engine roar to life.

“I’m just trying to make things easier for you, Leah. I don’t understand why you insist on being so stubborn,” he called over the sound of the engine.

She picked up her pace, stuffing her fists into the pockets of her jeans. Between Pop and Mayor Murdoch and Vine Beach’s annoyingly handsome new fire chief she’d just about had it with people for today. And while she could do nothing about the lingering worry over her visit with her father, there was something she could do about Jack Murdoch.

Intent on calling the care facility to have the mayor removed from the list of approved guests for Pop, she realized she’d left her phone in the car. Just as well, she decided, for that was a task better undertaken after she’d calmed down a bit.

The mayor whipped around his vehicle to drive between her and the barn. “Look, I came out here as a favor to your daddy. One day you’re going to wish you’d listened to us.”

“Thanks for stopping by, Mayor Murdoch. I’ll be sure and tell Pop you were here.”

Leah slipped inside the cool shade of the barn and waited until the mayor was gone. Only then did she give vent to her anger. Thankfully, the pitchfork was nearby. As she stabbed the implement into the fresh hay, all Leah could think was that while the Lord knew what He was doing, she had absolutely no clue.

* * *

Ryan returned to his house in Houston’s Heights neighborhood just as the sun was setting. Climbing out of the Jeep, he could hear his bullmastiff’s bark of greeting from the backyard. “Hey, Chief,” he called. The For Rent sign was gone—likely picked up by the Realtor this afternoon—as was the lockbox that had hung on the front door.

He stepped into the front parlor of the house he and Jenna were supposed to have shared together, then shut the door behind him. Ignoring the memories and regrets that danced around the blanket-wrapped furniture and across the oak floors, Ryan made his way through the maze of boxes stacked in the dining room to slip out the kitchen door. The deck was broad and shaded, the swing gently swaying in the crisp November breeze.

The old swing was his thinking place, the spot where he went to sort out whatever was bothering him. More than one of his buddies had suggested he go see a grief counselor to deal with the lingering guilt of Jenna’s death. Maybe someday he would, but not until the Lord made it obvious that it was time.

Chief came loping toward him, a ball in his massive jaws. He scratched the dog behind the ear then tossed the ball far into the yard. As the bullmastiff gave chase, Ryan’s phone rang.

The number was unfamiliar, but the area code was not. Vine Beach, Texas.

“Owen here,” he said by habit.

“Hi, Ryan, this is Leah. Leah Berry?”

The dog crossed the deck to deposit the ball at Ryan’s feet. Once again he threw it. “Leah, yes, hi.”

“Hi.”

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.