returned his smile with a bright one of her own. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to get going or I’ll be late for our appointment.” She paused. “I’m glad you’re home.”
A beat passed before Lee said, “Me, too.”
Lee watched as Angela settled Malcolm in a car seat in the second row of the late-model minivan. It may have been years since their last encounter, but time hadn’t changed how he felt about his best friend’s widow. He’d just celebrated his fifteenth birthday when he first entertained romantic feelings about the girl who told him she loved him like a brother. However, his thoughts about her were anything but brotherly, and he made certain never to cross the line to act on his fantasies. Now, fast-forward more than a decade, Lee realized his feelings for Angela hadn’t changed. He still liked her for more than friendship. There were countless times when he cursed his reticence to let her know how he felt, once Justin confessed that he and Angela had slept together two weeks before their high school graduation. And this revelation told him she was lost to him forever. Although they’d promised to stay in touch with one another, he, Justin and Angela took different paths. Lee had immersed himself in all things military. Justin had concentrated on a pre-med curriculum at college, while Angela had taken the world of high fashion modeling by storm.
Their paths did not cross whenever he returned to The Falls for family business. The only contact was an occasional email or instant message with a cursory update as to what was going on in their lives. Lee was shocked when Justin told him he’d dropped out of med school to join the Corps. When he questioned his friend about not following his dream to become a doctor, Justin had said going into medicine had been his mother’s wish.
Lee pulled his thoughts back to the present as he clamped his teeth together and watched the taillights of Angela’s vehicle turn the corner and disappear. He silently berated himself for not staying more closely connected to the two people who hadn’t judged him because he was Emory Remington’s boy.
To the men in his unit he was known as Sergeant Remington or “Wolf,” but to those in Wickham Falls he was a descendant of the infamous Wolfes who at one time owned most of the coal mines in Johnson County and were notorious for the exploitation of their workers. Although many of the mines had been closed for more than thirty years, Lee could not escape the stigma attached to his family’s name. And despite having married a Remington, his mother had continued the family tradition that male descendants who did not carry Wolfe as their surname would have it as a middle name.
Lee exhaled an audible breath. Well, he was back in Wickham Falls, not for a few days or even a week, but close to a year. He would take the time allowed him before reenlisting to rejoin his fellow rangers.
Five minutes later, Lee turned into the driveway leading to The Falls House. For years it had been known as Wolfe Hall, but when it went from being a family residence to a boardinghouse his Aunt Babs changed the name. The century-old structure, designed in the architectural style of the antebellum South, bore noticeable signs of disrepair. Several shutters had come loose from their fastenings, and what had been touted as the finest residence in Johnson County appeared to be an eyesore to Lee. Although the ten-bedroom, twelve-bath mansion was constructed during the Victorian period, Hiram Wolfe’s new bride had insisted it resemble her ancestral home in Beaufort, South Carolina.
Lee parked near two carriage houses turned guesthouses that also needed fresh coats of white paint. Repairs weren’t at the top of his to-do list, though sitting down with his sister—to ascertain how much money she needed to hold on to the property—was.
Getting out of the car and walking around to the front of the three-story dwelling, Lee rang the doorbell. The keys to the house were in his backpack. He didn’t have to wait long for the door to open. The smile parting his lips faded quickly when he saw firsthand the effects of the strain of his sister’s current ordeal. There were dark circles under large toffee-colored eyes, and her tawny face was a lot slimmer, almost emaciated, surrounded by a cloud of black curls falling to narrow shoulders.
He extended his arms and wasn’t disappointed when she came into his embrace. Lee rested his chin on the top of her head as she cried without making a sound; he massaged her back in a comforting gesture and waited for her to compose herself.
“You came.” Viviana sniffled against his chest.
Lee smiled. “I promised you I’d come.”
Leaning back, she stared up at him. Looking at his sister brought back memories of when they’d stood outside their mother’s bedroom comforting each other after the doctor informed them that Annette Remington had passed away in her sleep. Even though he had been told that his mother was terminally ill, Lee at nine had not understood or believed she wouldn’t be there for him and Viviana. The reality of losing one parent was compounded by the absence of his father. Emory Remington had been arrested, convicted and sentenced to five years in jail for the robbery of a convenience store to get the money he needed to pay his drug dealer. Lee would never forget the shame of his father being escorted to his mother’s funeral in handcuffs and shackles by US marshals. Although it was a private service, with only family and close friends in attendance, word had still got out that the deceased’s husband wasn’t permitted to sit with his children, but was sandwiched between two federal police officers at the back of the church.
“I’m so sorry I put you through this,” Viviana said, as a new wave of tears filled her eyes.
Reaching into the pocket of his fatigues, Lee took out a handkerchief and dabbed her face. He had promised his mother he would always take care of his younger sister, and he would. “Stop beating yourself up, Vivi. I’ll pay the back taxes, and once that’s done we’ll sit down together and figure out whatever else you have to pay off.”
Viviana took the handkerchief and blew her nose. “That scammer stole my identity and ran up thousands of dollars of debt, which has ruined my credit. I barely have enough money to keep the lights on.”
Lee stared over his sister’s head. Seeing a woman cry was his Achilles’ heel. There were times when he’d snuck into his mother’s bedroom to find her in tears. The sight had rendered him motionless when she cried without making a sound. He didn’t know if it was because she was in pain, or because she was rapidly facing mortality and knew she wouldn’t live long enough to see her children grow to adulthood.
Cradling Viviana’s face in his hands, he angled his head. “Haven’t I always promised to take care of you?” She nodded and smiled through her tears. “Then I want you to believe me when I say you’re not going to lose the house or walk around in the dark. Give me a few days to get acclimated and then we’re going to sit together to figure how to get you back on your feet. And even though the house is yours, I’m going to make a few suggestions about not reopening it as a boardinghouse again.”
Viviana smiled through her tears. “What are you talking about?”
Lee pressed a kiss to her forehead. “No hints. We’ll discuss it after we straighten out our financial dilemma.”
She blinked slowly. “Our dilemma, Lee?” she questioned. “It’s not about your or ours, but my dilemma. It was me who let some slimeball sweet-talk me to where I trusted him so much that I believed everything that came out of his corrupted mouth until it was too late. I—”
“Enough!” Lee said gently. The single word, although spoken quietly, had the same impact as if he’d shouted. “We’re not going to talk about your so-called friend ever again. He’s your past and will remain that. I’m back to help you look ahead and rebuild what you feel you’ve lost. The house is still standing and with a few repairs it will be back in business, good as new.”
“That’s what I told her.”
Lee went completely still when he heard a voice he’d almost forgotten. Turning slowly, he stared at the person he hadn’t thought he would ever see again. It had been at least twenty years since he and Emory Remington had come face-to-face, and those encounters were branded in his mind like a tattoo.
Even before and after serving