Shelby leaned against the diner’s counter, staring at the cell phone in her hand. Her staff had left. The door was locked, the alarm set. But she had one more task to accomplish before heading upstairs.
She sighed. Conversations with her mother were never easy. Shelby’s questions garnered one-word answers, and her mother never asked any of her own.
Until two and a half weeks ago, Shelby had phoned once a month. Now, she made that obligatory call weekly. With Mia gone, she was all her parents had left. They’d lost Lauren years ago.
She touched the phone icon next to the number she’d brought up a few minutes ago. She could have this conversation in the comfort of her apartment, but she’d rather be alone. Addy wouldn’t understand. The woman hadn’t provided details, but growing up on a farm in Idaho, her childhood had to have been more pleasant than Shelby’s.
Ryan was upstairs, too. All her arguments in the wee hours of yesterday morning hadn’t swayed him in the slightest. He wasn’t going anywhere.
After three rings, her father picked up. That was no surprise. Her mother rarely answered the phone.
Shelby chatted with him for several minutes, delaying the inevitable. The warm-up with her father was always the easiest part of the call. Though there’d never been warmth and laughter, their exchanges were at least two-way.
But something was different this time. There was hesitation, as if that aura of control he emitted was a facade that had finally sustained its first cracks. He was floundering, too.
A few minutes later, she heard rustling as he apparently rose from where he’d been sitting.
“I’ll turn you over to your mother. Thank you, Shelby. She really needs these calls.” Unspoken was a loud and clear “I need them.”
“I’ll stay in touch.”
She’d filled him in on happenings at the diner, talked about Addy and even shared how Ryan was maintaining regular contact with his niece. But she hadn’t mentioned the threats. Her parents didn’t need the added burden of worrying about her and Chloe.
After some more rustling, her mother’s “hello” came through the phone, flat and listless.
“I’m calling to see how you’re doing.” The false cheer she injected into her voice never had an effect on her mother, but she did it, anyway.
“I was napping.”
Shelby didn’t apologize. It likely wasn’t the first nap she’d had that day.
She shared the same details she’d given her father, then asked about her mother’s day. She’d made herself a ham-and-cheese sandwich for lunch, but hadn’t made the bed. That was one way Shelby measured how well she was doing. If she got up and made the bed, it was a good day. There probably hadn’t been any of those lately.
Finally, her mother released a sigh. It was heavy with sorrow, resignation and regret. “I’m going to let you go.”
Shelby’s own sigh escaped. At twenty-seven years old, she was still at a loss as to how to help her mother.
Maybe a visit would do what phone calls couldn’t. Once the danger was over, she would leave the diner in Tessa’s hands and spend a few days in Arizona.
“How about if I bring Chloe for a visit sometime? Would you like that?”
“Okay.”
Shelby tamped down her disappointment at the lack of enthusiasm in the one-word answer. She’d never been able to make her mother happy. Why should now be any different?
When she was little, she would try hard to cheer her up. She’d take her mother’s hand in her little ones and tighten her fingers. But her mother never squeezed back.
When she was in third grade, one of her friends said getting flowers always made her mother happy, so Shelby had picked a handful of wildflowers on her way home from the bus stop.
She’d found her mother staring out the window at the flower garden her father had planted for her. When Shelby passed her the bundle, her mother laid it on the table, then returned her gaze to the window, gift forgotten.
“When are you coming?”
The question pulled her thoughts back to the present. Was there a spark of hope underlying the usual monotone, an almost imperceptible lift in pitch?
“I can’t get away right now. But soon. I promise.”
She ended the call and headed upstairs, the image of those wildflowers lingering in her mind. She had followed her mother’s gaze out the window, to the perfectly-shaped blooms covering the manicured bushes, the neatly mulched flower bed.
And she’d understood. Her scraggly gift couldn’t hold a candle to what her father had done. Her wildflowers weren’t ugly, just inferior.
But Shelby liked them, so she’d put them in water and kept them in her room until every bloom fell off and the leaves dried and curled. Those flowers were like her—nice by themselves, but inferior next to the others her father had produced.
When she opened the door at the top of the stairs, Ryan’s smooth voice drifted to her. She stepped into the living room to find him sitting on the couch with Chloe in his lap, an open picture book in front of them. The little girl had already taken her nap. She’d been fast asleep when Shelby had come up around one.
Ignoring Addy’s frown and arms-crossed pose, Shelby leaned against the wall to watch. Her father had never read to her. Neither had her mother. But Ryan wasn’t like either of her parents. He was an amazing uncle. A perfect daddy.
As he finished the story, Addy crossed the room to slip past her down the hall. Ryan closed the book and looked over at Shelby with a smile. He’d recently bought a bunch of picture books. Several were well-known Bible stories. In the one he’d just finished, Jesus had fed five thousand people with five loaves of bread and two fish.
Shelby walked into the room. As soon as she sat next to Ryan, Chloe reached for her, and she pulled the little girl onto her lap.
“Be-be.” Chloe continued talking, even interjecting some hand motions. She seemed to know exactly what she was saying, though Shelby had no clue. But she was pretty sure she picked up “book” somewhere in the string of unintelligible words.
Shelby watched Ryan lean forward to place what he’d been reading on the coffee table. “Do you really believe that?”
He lifted a brow, his eyes shifting to hers. “Of course. Don’t you?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure.” When she looked back at him, he was studying her. She frowned. “Don’t look at me like that. You said you’re not a religious person, either.”
“I said I didn’t attend church regularly. I still believe.”
She leaned her head back against the couch. “When I was a child, my weekends with Aunt Bea always included church. Then I’d go home, and my dad would tell me that religion was a crutch for weak people. He likened those who believed in God to children refusing to let go of the myth of the Tooth Fairy.”
“So you’re agnostic?”
“No. I don’t believe everything got here by chance. That’s so scientifically improbable, it’s easier to believe that a supreme being created it, or at least set everything in motion. I think God’s out there somewhere. Maybe He notices what goes on down here, maybe He doesn’t. But I think the Bible is just a book of stories written by men.”
“What about your aunt?”
She pursed her lips. “She never missed a service and was involved in everything, from bringing food to shut-ins to leading a women’s Bible study group to picking up people who could no longer drive and bringing them to church. But her religion didn’t do her much good, because in spite of her prayers and the prayers of the church people, she died too young and suffered too much.”
“Where do you think she is?”
“If there’s a heaven, that’s where she’d be.”
“Then you can’t say her religion didn’t do her any good.”
“I said ‘if there’s a heaven.’ That’s a big if.”
“Was she happy?”
Shelby met his eyes. “I never met anyone happier.”
“Then her religion didn’t hurt her. If she was wrong, she had nothing to lose, but if she was right, she had everything to gain.”
Shelby rose from the couch. It had been too long a day for a philosophical discussion. “I’m going to make dinner.”
After setting Chloe on the floor, she picked up the bin of toys and put it next to her. When she moved toward the kitchen, Ryan followed.
“Can I help with dinner?”
“Sure.” He liked to stay busy, and she didn’t mind accommodating him. Yesterday, he’d repaired the landing. Today, he’d popped down to the diner during Chloe’s nap and bussed tables. She was going to miss him when he returned to duty.
Actually, it was more than that. His absence was going to leave a big void in both her and Chloe’s lives. His time off had barely started, and she was already dreading when it would end.
Addy had told her not to fall in love with him. Shelby had tried to heed her advice. But it hadn’t worked. Now she was dangerously close to doing exactly what Addy had warned her against.
The problem was, all her reasons for not getting romantically involved over the years didn’t apply to Ryan. Instead of making demands, he gave more than he took. He never tore her down, only built her up. The one time he did judge her, he’d been man enough to apologize.
The attraction she felt toward him didn’t help her cause, either. Seeing him dressed for duty each morning made her heart skip a beat. He always looked so strong and valiant. Irresistible. And that was in his camos and matching cap, pants legs tucked into his black boots. If she ever saw him in his service dress blues, she’d be done for.
She opened the refrigerator door and pulled out the package of hamburger she’d had thawing. A murmur of voices came from the living room. Addy had returned and was interacting with Chloe. With a loving aunt and uncle and doting nanny, the little girl never had to play alone for long.
Shelby closed the door and straightened. “I talked to my parents today. When this is over, I want to take Chloe for a visit.”
“I’m sure they’ll like that.”
Addy’s voice rose. “You’re taking Chloe to Arizona?”
“Just for a visit.”
She appeared in the doorway moments later. “I’ll go with you.”
Shelby’s chest tightened just as it had when she’d tried to explain to her friends why her father was so gruff and her mother rarely left her room. Her family wasn’t the same as other kids’ families.
“That’s okay. I won’t need you since I won’t be working.” She softened the refusal with a smile. “It’ll be an opportunity for some time off.”
Addy’s brows dipped toward her nose. “I don’t mind. I’m happy to help take care of her so you can spend time with your family.”
Shelby pulled a block of cheddar cheese from the fridge. Tonight she was making Aunt Bea’s golden nugget burgers. She’d form hamburger patties around chunks of cheese, add some herbs and spices and pour a can of tomato sauce over the top. Quick and easy but tasty.
She laid the cheese on the counter next to the meat. “It’ll just be a week. We’ll be fine.”
Both Ryan and Addy had met her parents at Mia’s funeral. But a brief introduction at a funeral was a far cry from spending time in their home. The visit would be strained enough without her feeling the need to put up a front.
Eventually she’d have to make that leap with Ryan. There’d be family gatherings, holidays to celebrate. She knew how it would go. He’d be the unwanted visitor. Her mom would ignore him and her dad would find fault with him.
Addy lingered for several moments, her expression unreadable. When she walked away, Shelby turned her attention to making dinner. In a while, she’d give Ryan the job of peeling potatoes.
He leaned close and whispered, “She doesn’t like to be told no.”
Yeah, Mia hadn’t, either. They’d probably made an interesting pair.
Shelby had decided to fire Addy if she had to. She hoped she wouldn’t. Changing sitters would be one more upheaval in Chloe’s life. Besides, Shelby felt sorry for Addy. The same way the little girl had filled a void in Dorothy McConnell’s life, she was obviously filling a void in Addy’s. She hadn’t lost a child, but she’d experienced her own grief. When she’d had her hysterectomy, she’d lost the opportunity to birth a baby of her own.
Shelby pulled a plate from the cupboard, then tore into the plastic wrap covering the hamburger. At least she wouldn’t have to think about holiday gatherings until Christmas. She and Ryan, and maybe Addy and Barry, would do Thanksgiving with Chloe at the apartment and figure out Christmas later.
As she began to separate the ground beef into seven comparable-sized chunks, she cast a glance at Ryan. She was worrying about nothing. Regardless of where they spent the holidays or how unpleasant the visit, Ryan wouldn’t judge her family. It wasn’t in his nature.
Besides, he hadn’t grown up on the set of Leave It to Beaver, either.
In its own way, his childhood had probably been as messed up as hers had been.
An explosion ripped through the night, and bits of concrete rained down. Ryan dove behind the remains of what had moments earlier been the side of a building. Screams filled the air, along with the scent of scorched flesh.
He and five others had been on patrol when they’d spotted the young man in the distance, launcher resting on his shoulder. A second later, the rocket-propelled grenade came whistling in their direction.
Who was down? It was one of his men, but he wasn’t sure who. He raised himself to a crouch and felt his way through the darkness. Where was everyone?
A volley of mortar fire brought down the rest of the building. Debris showered over him, trapping him beneath.
Ryan bolted upright, a scream working its way up his throat. He clamped his mouth shut. There was no mortar fire. Afghanistan was half a world away. He was in North Bend. In Shelby’s apartment.
He pressed a hand to his chest. His heart thudded and his T-shirt was damp with perspiration.
He’d dreamed he was back in Afghanistan. Four years ago, he’d served as an individual augmentee, a serviceman who deployed with a unit not his own. In his case, it had been a Marine detachment. The assignment had lasted twelve months. When he’d first returned to his regular duties, nightmares had plagued his sleep. Since then, they’d decreased in both frequency and intensity.
He drew in a breath, trying to calm his racing pulse, then froze.
There was no mortar fire, but something was burning. The odor was faint, barely detectable. The alarm downstairs began to squeal, and he sprang to his feet, thrusting aside the sheet. When he flipped on the light, the air was clear.
“Shelby!” He crossed the room in three large strides, then crashed into Addy who was exiting the hallway holding a still sleeping Chloe.
He grasped the woman’s shoulders to steady her. “Something’s on fire.”
“I think it’s the diner.”
Just beyond her, the door to the interior stairs was open several inches. A gray haze wafted through.
Panic pounded up his spine. “Where’s Shelby?”
“Probably still asleep. I’ll wake her up. Get Chloe out of here.” She pushed the child into his arms.
“Close that door.” It would limit the smoke coming in and buy the women some time. Why was it even open?
“I will. Now go.”
He spun and crossed the living room at a jog, swiping his keys and cell phone from the coffee table. Chloe was awake now and starting to wail. His panic was probably feeding hers. He’d soothe her later.
He grabbed his coat from the rack by the door and scooped up his tennis shoes and the clothes he’d worn yesterday. Before stepping outside, he glanced downward. No one had tampered with the stairs or landing.
When he ran around the side of the building, an eerie glow seeped from the edges of the miniblinds. With the windows covered, he couldn’t tell how far the fire had progressed. Eventually, the second floor would cave in on the first.
He laid his clothes and shoes on the ground and looked back up the stairs, willing Addy and Shelby to step through the still-open door. What was taking so long? God, please get them out safely.
The impromptu prayer brought him up short. The plea had sprung up without forethought. It was probably one he had no right to make. Yeah, he believed. But he wasn’t in a place where he could expect any favors.
When Addy finally appeared with clothing draped over one arm, Ryan’s knees almost buckled in relief. She’d even thought to grab Chloe’s seal. But as she reached the bottom of the stairs, that relief disappeared.
“Where is Shelby?” He had to shout over the blaring alarm.
“Right behind me.” Addy sounded winded. Her pulse was probably in overdrive, the same as his.
Several more seconds passed. What was Shelby doing, collecting personal items? Nothing was more important than her life.
“Take Chloe.” If he had to, he’d drag Shelby out kicking and screaming.
Addy’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“Going in after her.”
Addy looked as if she’d argue, then apparently decided against it. “Be careful. The floor was already warm. If you fall through, you’re done.” She dropped the items she held and reached for Chloe. “Tell her to leave her stuff and come on.”
That was exactly what he intended to do. And throw her over his shoulder if she objected.
He took the stairs two at a time and burst through the open door. During the brief time he’d been outside, the smoke had grown much thicker. Where was it coming from? Had a portion of the floor caved in?
“Shelby, come on!”
No answer.
He pulled his T-shirt over his nose and hurried through the living room in a crouch. The fabric didn’t make a good filter. His first breath induced a coughing spasm. His eyes watered and his lungs burned.
“Where are you?”
When he stepped into the hall, the door at the top of the diner stairs was still open, black smoke billowing through. Annoyance surged up inside him. He’d told Addy to close it.
He released a pent-up breath. Not everyone thought well under pressure. His military training helped. But he couldn’t expect that of Addy.
He dashed down the hall toward the master bedroom. That had to be where she was. Annoyance surged up anew. She had a niece who depended on her, and she was gathering personal belongings while the apartment filled with smoke?
He barged through her open door, flipped on her light, then stopped short. She was still in bed, auburn hair flowing over her pillow, her body a long lump beneath the quilted comforter.
He slammed the door to keep out any more smoke, then stalked to the bed and shook her. “Shelby, wake up.”
She stirred but didn’t open her eyes. He threw open both windows to clear the air. What was going on? Addy had said Shelby was right behind her. Had she intentionally left her there to die?
No, that didn’t make sense. If it was him lying there, maybe. But not Shelby. Addy liked her.
“Come on, Shelby.” He shook her again. “The place is on fire. We’ve got to get out of here.”
This time she spoke. Her tone held protest, but he couldn’t make out the words. After throwing back the covers, he slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, ready to lift her.
She opened her eyes. It seemed to require some effort. “What’s going on?”
“The diner’s on fire.”
She pushed herself to a seated position with a gasp that ended in a coughing fit. When she recovered, he swung her legs to the side and helped her to her feet.
“Grab some shoes and a change of clothes.” Her coat was hanging the same place his had been. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
He glanced around the room. Her phone sat on her nightstand next to an empty mug, the one she always used for her chamomile tea. Behind it was a framed photo of her and her aunt. He picked up the phone and slid it into the pocket of his shorts, then snatched the picture. Her purse was on the dresser, so he grabbed it, too. Hopefully her keys were inside.
Seconds later they were at the closed bedroom door, Shelby now fully alert.
“Take a deep breath and hold it until we get outside. The smoke’s bad.”
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Addy was pacing the empty lot, arms wrapped tightly around Chloe.
She whirled on them. “What took so long?” She shouted over the squeal of the alarm and approaching sirens.
“Shelby was still asleep.” He didn’t try to hide the accusation or anger. If the woman wasn’t holding Chloe, he’d probably wring her neck.
Addy’s jaw dropped. “How? I woke her up. She told me to go, that she was grabbing a couple of things and would be right behind me.”
“Then why was she still asleep when I got up there?”
“I don’t know. I woke her up. I swear.” Tears sprang to her eyes and clung to her lower lashes. “I thought she was right behind me. I did exactly what she told me—got my shoes and coat and came down.”
Shelby started to cough, bending forward until she could breathe easily again.
“I’m so sorry.” A tear slid down Addy’s cheek. “I would never have left you if you hadn’t told me to. You sat up and talked to me. I thought for sure you were awake.”
Shelby put a hand on Addy’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ve always talked in my sleep. I’ve carried on entire conversations without waking up.” She gave Addy a shaky smile. “It was a big source of entertainment for my older sister and her friends.”
Relief flitted across Addy’s face, and she gave Shelby a one-armed hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay. When it took so long for you guys to come down, I was just about frantic. I’d have run up after you if I hadn’t been holding Chloe.” She gasped, her panicked gaze shifting to Ryan. “I think I forgot to close the hall door. I opened it, because I heard something. Then I smelled smoke and got Chloe. After running into you, I was focused on waking Shelby and getting out.”
As he and Shelby struggled into their coats and tennis shoes, a fire truck pulled into the lot, and the fireman in the passenger seat jumped out. “Is anyone still inside?”
“No.” He and Shelby answered simultaneously.
Shelby looked at the leather bag dangling from Ryan’s arm. “You have my purse.”
He handed it to her, and she fished out her keys. “This will save them kicking in the door.”
While she unlocked it, he glanced at the firemen who had already unwound the hose and were preparing to enter. A broken doorjamb would have been the least of her worries.
As she walked back toward him, an explosion shook the building and she flinched. Since everything looked the same in the front, it was probably the kitchen.
She stopped in front of him, tears gathering on her lower lashes. “Aunt Bea loved this place. She put her whole life into it.”
His heart twisted. He placed the frame he’d picked up facedown on the asphalt and stepped closer. Shelby might not appreciate an embrace, but she looked like she needed more than consoling words.
The moment he took her in his arms, hers came up to wrap his waist. She pulled him closer, her grip amazingly strong. He’d guessed right. She needed this hug.
And he did, too. He hadn’t held a woman like this since accepting the fact his wife’s heart would never belong wholly to him. But having Shelby in his arms felt so right. Not just right, but what every fiber of his being longed for. He was like a starving man receiving nourishment for the first time in weeks.
A sob shook her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and stroked her hair, the same way he often soothed his niece. “You can rebuild.”
“I can bring the diner back.” His heavy coat muffled her words. “But if the apartment is destroyed, there are things I’ll never be able to replace. Keepsakes from Aunt Bea’s life. Dozens of photo albums, so many memories.”
“No one can take the memories away.” He released her and picked up the frame. “But while you were getting your shoes, I grabbed this.”
She took the picture and clutched it to her chest, tears welling anew. “Thank you.”
A police car pulled into the parking lot, then an ambulance.
He tilted his head toward the ambulance. “Let them check you out.”
“I’ll be fine.” She let out a cough again, trying unsuccessfully to stifle it.
He frowned. “You need to go. You inhaled a lot of smoke. I’ll take care of Chloe. Once we know you’re all right, I’ll get you both somewhere safe.”
The fire was probably unrelated to the other threats. The security alarm didn’t sound until after it started, so it had to be accidental. Maybe an electrical short. If someone had broken in and started it intentionally, the alarm would have gone off as soon as the security system was breached.
His line of thinking was logical, but he couldn’t shake the sense of dread that had settled over him. Someone had tried to kill Shelby and seriously injure him. Was it possible this same someone had found a way past the alarm and started the fire intentionally?
Ryan shook his head, everything within him rejecting the thought. The scenario was unthinkable, on two levels.
They’d had the system installed and been confident it would alert them of danger. If their assailant could slip past it while everyone slept, the alarm meant nothing. Just as unsettling was the extent of the man’s cruelty.
What kind of person would burn down a structure with a sixteen-month-old child inside?