Kathleen Y'Barbo - Her Holiday Fireman

His reading this morning had come from Exodus, a passage detailing the tribe of Israel’s flight from Egypt by way of the less-traveled road. Ryan estimated he’d read that passage dozens of times, and never had he noticed that when the Lord finally allowed the tribe to make their escape, He did not take them through the most direct and obvious route.

Ryan opened his Bible to read the passage again. This time he had to wonder: Was God doing the same thing with him? Was Ryan following Him down the less-obvious route—one that led through Vine Beach, Texas—or was he merely allowing a deathbed promise to send him in the wrong direction?

Ryan went to bed that night turning the question over to the Lord and awakened without an answer. But at least he had a plan. And that was better than what he’d had for the past year.

The next afternoon, Ryan arrived at the address Riley Burkett had given him. Situated across from the City Hall building where Ryan would have an office starting Monday morning, Burkett Realty was on the ground floor of a century-old building that also housed a beauty salon and a clothing store. Both were decorated for fall despite the warm salt-tinged breeze and the complete lack of fall foliage on the trees surrounding the courthouse and adjoining Vine Beach Gazette building.

When Ryan stepped inside Burkett Realty, he was kept waiting only a minute before a woman who introduced herself as Riley’s wife, Susan, ushered him into a back office. Burkett was an older man with a head full of gray hair, a fact that surprised him given the enthusiasm he’d heard on the phone. With a pace much quicker than Ryan expected, they made short work of visiting the handful of rental properties available for long-term lease.

He settled on a one-room furnished cabin situated a few steps from the sand with an upstairs deck that ran the length of the house. The yard was small, something Chief wouldn’t much like, but it was fenced and that would have to do.

After returning to Riley’s office to sign the lease, all that remained was to head back to Houston for the few things he’d be bringing with him. The movers would deliver the rest of it to storage. Then there would be nothing left to remind the new tenants of the man who never managed to bring his new wife home to the house in the Heights.

“You’re all set,” Burkett said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Actually there is,” Ryan said. “I’ll be looking for a church down here. Any recommendations?”

Burkett grinned. “Glad you asked, son. I can help you with that.” He wrote down the name and address of a church on the back of his business card then handed it to Ryan. “I head up a widowers group called Starting Over, and Susan and I mentor the newlyweds.”

Widowers group. Ryan glanced down at the card.

Riley Burkett, PhD, LPC

Certified Grief Counselor

“Wait. I thought you were a Realtor.”

“I am.” The older man looked down at the card he’d given Ryan. “Don’t know how that card got into the wrong place.” He gestured to a second cardholder. “I meant to give you one of those. Want to trade me?”

“No,” Ryan said slowly. “I think this is the one I’m supposed to have.”

“Really?” He gave Ryan an appraising look. “And why is that?”

“Long story.” He paused to weigh the lease in his hand. For a second he considered telling Riley about Jenna, but the words wouldn’t come out. “Thanks for your help.”

Riley looked at Ryan carefully. “Anytime, son. Anytime.”

As he shook Riley’s hand, Ryan wondered if he could talk to Riley, if he could find some relief from the guilt that seemed to follow him around and weigh him down like a boulder on his soul. After all, he couldn’t keep it to himself forever.

As he left the office, Leah stepped out of the beauty salon and right into his path. “Hey, stranger,” she said, her impossibly green eyes stopping him in his tracks.

Chapter Three

“So you found a place?” Leah asked Ryan, noticing the lease he held in his hands.

“I did, thanks to you,” he said. He smiled at her for a moment, and then looked down at the painfully eye-catching, oversize zebra-and-pink disposable sandals she wore postpedicure. Meant only to get her from salon to car, Leah had certainly not expected to be greeting Ryan in them. Nor did she intend to show off the pink flowers Ima had painted on both of her big toes to just anyone. She felt herself blush as Ryan’s smile became a grin.

“So,” Leah said as she affected a casual pose and tried to act as if the ridiculous footwear and silly flowers were as normal as the sneakers Ryan wore, “tell me about your new place.”

“According to the rental ad, it’s steps from the water with an efficient layout and recently remodeled kitchen and bath,” he said. “Pretty much describes every place Burkett showed me except the one up above the beauty salon. The difference with this one is that the owner was willing to lease it for six months instead of by the week. That’s a testament to Mr. Burkett’s persuasive powers.”

“Yes, I can imagine he’d be persuasive.” Across the way Jack Murdoch’s truck pulled into the parking space reserved for the mayor. Leah purposefully returned her attention to Ryan without acknowledging the older man’s wave. “The place sounds wonderful,” she said.

“It’s nothing fancy, but it’s much better than living over Ima’s Beauty Salon, that’s for sure.”

“Living on the beach takes some getting used to, but it does beat inhaling chemicals and listing to blow dryers and Frank Sinatra all day.”

“Just Frank Sinatra?”

“Ima’s a big fan of Ol’ Blue Eyes.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry. There’s a barber shop up on the main highway, so it’s likely you’ll never have to experience it unless you’re called on to do a fire inspection or something.”

He gave the front window of Ima’s a quick glance then grinned. “I’ll take your word for it. Now, other than Pop’s—where I’m sure you’ve dined a time or two—is there a good place for lunch in this town?”

“Lunch?” She thought a minute. “There’s the Pizza Palace, but I don’t know if it’s open for lunch. Frankly I avoid it unless I’m babysitting for the Wilson girls because the noise is deafening and the pizza isn’t exactly gourmet fare.”

He glanced up at the sky then down the street. “I have an idea. Where’s the nearest deli?”

“Inside the Beach Mart on Vine at Main,” she said. “Just around the corner. Why?”

“How about we have a quick lunch, so I can thank you for all your help? Maybe a few sandwiches on the beach?”

Leah’s first thought was that she should turn him down. After all, he was a stranger. And also the new fire chief.

She looked at Ryan’s hopeful expression, and changed her mind.

It was just lunch. Not a date. Just a thank-you. And apparently it would be deli food from the Beach Mart.

Just then, the mayor stepped out of his truck. “Great,” she said under her breath.

“Leah?” the mayor called.

Ignoring him, Leah regarded Ryan with a smile. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great,” Ryan said. “Let’s take my Jeep.”

“Wait right there,” Leah said as she held up her hand to silence him. “I need to...” She pointed to her toes then headed for the front door of Ima’s, escaping the mayor easily. “Just hang on, okay?”

Once inside, the sound of Frank singing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” chased her across the room and into the corner devoted to Ima’s boutique items. There amid the rhinestones and sequins that covered all of the clothing and most of the accessories, Leah found the adorable sandals she’d been eyeing for the past month.