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The Firefighter's Family Secret
Shirley Jump


All it takes is one spark . . .A month ago, Colton Barlow was a decorated Atlanta firefighter haunted by a tragic accident on the job. Now he’s taking the grand tour of a North Carolina town he never heard of–and being welcomed into a family he didn’t know existed! His newly discovered half-brothers aren’t the only ones making Colton feel right at home. If he isn’t careful, Stone Gap–and one winsome wedding planner—could steal his heart.Rachel Morris doesn’t see many sexy strangers passing through her tiny southern town. And falling for the hunky firefighter sure wasn’t part of her life-on-hold plan. But is Colton here to stay? Are they both ready to say “I will” to a future together?









“I’m Colton. Colton … Barlow.”


The name sounded strange still, but it was beginning to grow on him.

Confusion muddied her eyes. “One of the Barlows? With Jack, Luke and Mac?”

“Sort of. I’m their half brother. From Atlanta. Firefighter, novice fisherman and decent first baseman.”

He didn’t know what made him give her that mini-résumé, but then she laughed, and it made his day. “Pleased to meet you, Colton Barlow from Atlanta. I’m Rachel Morris. Expert fisherwoman and not-bad shortstop.”

“Maybe you could teach me a thing or two about catching the right one.”

Her smile reached into her eyes, made her entire face brighter. A flirty tease lit in those green depths and toyed with the edges of her lips. “Is that what you’re here for? Because we don’t sell matches made in heaven. Just fishing poles and garden rakes.”

“I’m just talking trout and bass. Definitely not long-term commitments.”

“Just what this town needs. Another confirmed bachelor.” But she laughed when she said it.

Colton racked his brain for something else to say. To prolong the moment before he had to leave. He liked Rachel. And it had been a long, long time since he’d met a woman who interested him like that.

The Barlow Brothers:

Nothing tames a Southern man faster … than true love!




The Firefighter’s Family Secret

Shirley Jump







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author SHIRLEY JUMP spends her days writing romance so she can avoid the towering stack of dirty dishes, eat copious amounts of chocolate and reward herself with trips to the mall. Visit her website at www.shirleyjump.com (http://www.shirleyjump.com) for author news and a booklist, and follow her at Facebook.com/shirleyjump.author (http://Facebook.com/shirleyjump.author) for giveaways and deep discussions about important things like chocolate and shoes.


To all the unsung heroes in my life, who put out a helping hand to others when they need it most.

You make the world a better place.


Contents

Cover (#u786573a7-e1c8-5e8f-a934-f44878546d46)

Introduction (#u70657066-1a5f-5f4d-a0dc-f02f214d2715)

Title Page (#u5f0b9da4-96de-5e14-ab54-65aa75658af5)

About the Author (#u2ca545eb-6b39-5aa7-a804-b16c7dbd6de8)

Dedication (#u08e3d020-858a-5554-81c3-136e5f180da2)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#u48e73f52-1c42-556e-a55a-e074036c3a32)

The last thing Colton Barlow expected while visiting Stone Gap, North Carolina, was for opportunity to come knocking.

He wasn’t a man given to living by the seat of his pants, and, in fact, most everyone who knew him would say Colton was deliberate. A planner. A man who set a course and mapped his route carefully. It was how he had always approached a fire on the job—assess the situation, know the risks and variables and plot the battle with care. Rushing into a blaze with no forethought was what got people killed.

And Colton Barlow had already made that mistake.

He’d spent the past six months trying to settle back into his job. Most days he did okay. Some days he was lucky if he could shrug an arm into the heavy turnout coat. But he told himself he was fine, just fine, and everything was on track.

Until the information that upended his life, told him everything he thought he knew about himself was wrong and led him to a small Southern town and three half brothers he hadn’t even realized existed until a month ago. For almost thirty years he’d been Colton Williams—his mother’s last name—and now it turned out he was a Barlow. That last name still felt like a new pair of shoes—a little uncomfortable, a little odd. Maybe if he kept thinking of himself as Colton Barlow, the name would grow on him.

His family had, so far. He’d finally met the other Barlow brothers—Jack, Mac and Luke—at Jack’s wedding last week, and in the process, he stumbled upon a job opening on the Stone Gap Fire Department.

A job he hadn’t even been looking for. But once the idea took root in his head of a change, a new start, Colton thought it wouldn’t hurt to at least check it out. Maybe at a new department, people wouldn’t look at him with eyes filled with a mixture of pity and mistrust. Maybe he could finally leave the shadows behind him and begin again. He’d lost his love for firefighting after the accident, and wondered sometimes if he’d ever get it back. Then he’d talked to Harry and the first glimmers of excitement about his job returned.

That’s what had him turning around almost the minute he got home to Atlanta. He’d returned to Stone Gap, both to have a little time to get to know his brothers and father, and to meet with the fire chief for a formal sit-down. Except Fire Chief Harry Washington wasn’t a formal sit-down kind of guy, more a walk-and-talk, see-how-it-goes man. Which was why Colton was strolling through downtown Stone Gap, while Harry gave him a guided tour of the town.

“Best apple pie in the county is served right there,” Harry said, pointing at a little restaurant on the corner. A bright red-and-white awning above the Good Eatin’ Café pronounced the same thing in a dark blue curly script. Harry, a short and slightly pudgy man with a white buzz cut, looked as if he might indulge in the pie on occasion. He had a wide smile, a twinkle in his eyes and a friendly manner, which most everybody in Stone Gap seemed to respond to, given how many people had shouted a hello on their walk so far. “And if you ask Viv real nice, she’ll give you an extra scoop of ice cream on top.”

So far, Harry had talked about the best place to buy a pair of work boots, how to unclog a drain, the top menu items at Mabel’s diner and a whole host of other topics that didn’t have a damned thing to do with firefighting. Colton kept expecting some kind of questions about his skill set, but in the half hour since Colton had met Harry at the station and they’d started walking, nothing related to his occupation had come up in conversation. Maybe Harry was a circuitous guy, Colton thought. One who needed to be brought back around to the real reason he was here. “Sir, if you want my résumé—”

Harry put up a hand. “Let me stop you there, son. I don’t hire people based on a piece of paper. You and I both know how quickly paper disappears when you set it ablaze. I make my decisions based on the person, not their fancy-dancy credentials.”

“But surely you want to know if I have experience—”

Harry squinted in the sun. “Do you like fishing, Colton?”

The non sequitur made Colton stumble over a crack in the sidewalk. He pushed his sunglasses back up his nose and fell back into place beside Harry. “Uh, yes, sir.”

Harry nodded. “Good. Go home, grab a pole and meet me down at Ray Prescott’s place ’round three this afternoon. We’ll do the whole formal interview thing then.”

“While we’re fishing?”

Harry grinned. “It’s called multitasking, son. Now, if you ask my wife, she’ll tell you I can’t talk and breathe at the same time, and while that may be true, I sure as hell can talk and fish at the same time.” He gave Colton a little salute then strode off down the sidewalk toward the brick fire station.

Colton stared after him for a long time, then decided that if he wanted a job in Stone Gap—and he still wasn’t sure he did—then he should get a fishing pole. Not that Colton had gone fishing much. A few times with his uncle Tank, but that was about it. He’d been too busy trying to be the man of the family, a job thrust on him from the minute he could walk. Even now, even all these miles away from his mother and sister, he felt that mantle of responsibility. Of course, Katie was all grown up now, and their mother...well, she was what she liked to call “a work in progress.”

Which meant Colton shouldn’t feel bad about doing something for himself for once. Like going fishing.

Especially considering how much his life had changed in such a short period of time. A month ago he’d been working for the Atlanta FD, spending his free time working on his mother’s run-down car and urging his sister to take some time off, live a little, someplace other than the accounting firm where she spent a minimum of eighty hours a week. In return, Katie had needled him about being the quintessential bachelor, with an apartment as empty as a store going out of business. Sure, he had the occasional fling, but he wasn’t interested in serious relationships, and he made sure the women he dated knew it. He’d thought his life was more or less complete.

Then he found out that Uncle Tank—his real name was David, but no one ever called the barrel-chested, hearty man by anything other than Tank—whom Colton had always thought was just a family friend, was actually his real uncle, and that his biological father—a man his mother had never spoken about—lived in Stone Gap, along with the three sons he had raised. Robert Barlow had ignored Colton’s existence for thirty years, a fact that still stung, even though Colton told himself he was far too old to care whether he’d had a dad to teach him how to complete a layup or tell him how to win a girl’s heart.

But he did care. And working through the roller coaster of emotions that meeting his siblings and father had awakened was part of what had kept Colton here in Stone Gap. A saner man might have just turned his back on all of this and left town forever, but Colton had this need to know where he came from. His mother had called it his curiosity gene, the same need that had driven Colton to dismantle the dishwasher when he was eleven, and ask a thousand questions in every class he ever took.

Now he had a thousand and ten questions for Bobby Barlow, but Colton had hesitated to ask them. Had delayed seeing his father again, because Colton wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear the answers.

Nor was he so sure his father would want a relationship with him. Colton wasn’t the success that Mac was, the war hero Jack was or the second generation partner that Luke was. Sure, Colton was a firefighter, but he was barely hanging on to the job he had in Atlanta after the disaster that claimed two of his coworkers six months ago. A disaster that Colton could have avoided, if only he had tried harder.

The memory of that night had a way of stealing Colton’s breath when he least expected it. He’d catch a whiff of smoke or hear a crash, and he’d be there again, screaming into his mask for Willis and Foster. He’d see the burst of flame, hear the crack of the overhead beam, feel the heat crushing his gear. And see the yawning cavern that opened up like a hungry beast and swallowed the best men—and the best friends—Colton had ever known.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and willed the memory back into the shadows. It took a while, four deep breaths to be exact, but then he opened his eyes and reminded himself he was in Stone Gap, North Carolina, on a vacation of sorts. And about to go fishing.

Get it together, Barlow.

He jogged across Main Street, avoiding the lone car going south. He shook his head in amazement. Stone Gap wasn’t a hundredth as busy as Atlanta had been. That alone might be a nice change if he got offered a job at the department here.

If he even wanted to stay. Living in Stone Gap, becoming part of the fabric of the community, would mean being around his father on a regular basis. Dealing with all those questions that kept needling at his thoughts, the ones he wasn’t ready to face.

At the same time, it would mean having three brothers, three men who were the kind Colton had as friends back home. Three men he already genuinely liked. A lot.

He spied a familiar pair of legs sticking out from under the body of a Ford pickup truck at Gator’s Garage, the Barlow family business. Colton hesitated for a moment—this whole thing with his brothers was still so new, he wasn’t sure how to handle things like running into Luke downtown—then decided the only thing to do was to just go over there and say hello.

Colton ambled into the garage. He’d always liked garages, the smell of motor oil, the myriad tools, the puzzles of the cars that needed fixing. Gator’s used to be run by his father, until Bobby had knee-replacement surgery and needed to slow down. Now Luke was in charge, while Bobby worked part-time.

Colton took in the pegboards filled with tools, the tall red chests stuffed with parts, and imagined his father here, teaching Luke how to change the oil in a Chevy or rotate the tires on a Ford. The thought made Colton a little envious. Maybe getting to know Luke, Jack and Mac better would help ease some of those feelings. Colton looked down at the work boots below him. “Hey, Luke.”

Luke pushed out from under the car and grinned up at Colton. He had the same dark brown wavy hair and blue eyes as the rest of the Barlows, Colton included. Looking at his brothers was eerily like looking in the mirror. “Hey, Colt. Good to see you! Guess we didn’t scare you off, after all.”

“I’m not so easy to get rid of.” He chuckled. “Plus, I had an interview with Harry, the fire chief, so I figured I’d come back here and see it through.” Colton shrugged. “Not thinking it’s going to lead to anything, but it’s a shot. Might as well check it out.”

Luke nodded at that, then got to his feet, grabbed a rag and cleaned off his hands. “Glad to hear you’re staying a bit. You can help me torture Mac now that Jack is off on his honeymoon. But I have to warn you, Jack and I have a good routine going that keeps Mac at the center of a lot of merciless teasing. You gotta be on your toes to hang with us.”

Colton laughed. He liked the relationship the brothers had. Jack, a former soldier, was a good guy, solid and clearly head over heels for his new wife, Meri. Luke was the prankster of the family, though his heart was with his new fiancée, Peyton Reynolds, and their daughter Maddy, while Mac was the overachieving tycoon who had made millions in buying and selling companies, but had recently met and fallen in love with local girl Savannah Hillstrand.

“Sounds like a plan.” Colton shook his head. “I still have to get used to having all this family. It’s been just me, my sister and my mom for so long, and now all of a sudden, it’s like I’m tripping over Barlows.”

Luke chuckled. “We’re pretty much everywhere. Just ask the neighbors, who blamed every broken window and torn-up lawn on one of us.”

“Rightly so?”

“You know it.” Luke grinned. “But I’ll never admit to the crimes of my youth, at least not in front of my impressionable daughter, who I’m trying to steer away from my mistakes.” He made a circle in the air. “So between you and me, I was a Goody Two-shoes.”

That made Colton laugh. “And people are going to believe me when I say that?”

“Hell, no. But that’s okay. I just blame all my misdeeds on Mac. I love seeing his face get that scrunched-up look.” Luke tossed the rag on the counter then grabbed the clipboard that held the day’s jobs. “Listen, I’d love to sit around and shoot the breeze, but I have a bunch of work on tap for today. Ever since I took over for Dad, this place has been hopping. What say we grab breakfast tomorrow morning, you, me and Mac?”

“Sounds good.” Colton feigned coolness, but he was secretly pretty pleased the other Barlow boys had welcomed him so easily. He didn’t expect the road ahead would always be smooth, but he was glad they’d started off so well. His brothers had brought him into the fold as easily as inserting a card into the deck. Maybe if he started with the brotherly relationship, he’d be able to ease into the one with his father. “Hey, where’s the best place to get a fishing pole around here?”

Luke grinned. “Let me guess. Did Harry invite you? That man would be a professional fisherman if he could get paid for it. Go on over to Ernie’s across the street. They have pretty much everything.”

“Thanks.” It didn’t seem like enough to say to Luke, because it didn’t capture all that Colton really wanted to say, but he was a guy, and thanks was pretty much the extent of what he was capable of. “See you.”

Luke nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Breakfast with his brothers. The word still sounded weird in his head, even weirder when he spoke it aloud. All the things he had lacked all his life, right here in this tiny little town. Yeah, maybe staying a while was a good idea.

He ducked into Ernie’s Hardware & Sundries, which sported a hand-drawn sign advertising a special on night crawlers. Colton waited a second for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior, the rows of shelves and the bins of garden tools.

“Good morning. Can I help you?”

He turned toward the lilting sound of a woman’s voice. That was what hit Colton first—her voice, which, even in those few syllables, seemed to have a sweet, happy tone to it, as if his coming into the store was the best thing that had happened to her all day.

Then he saw her, and decided maybe seeing her was the best thing that happened to him all day—because the woman behind the counter was stunning.

His grandmother would have called her willowy. She was tall and thin, with long, straight, light blond hair that was so pale it seemed ethereal. Her dark green eyes were wide and deep, and matched by a welcoming smile that made him feel warm inside. She wore a white button-down shirt with big silver buttons with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into a pair of dark jeans that hugged her curves.

“Uh...yeah, good morning,” Colton said, wondering when he’d become a guy who stammered. “I’m looking for fishing rods?”

“Right this way.” She crooked her finger, beckoning to him, and made her way down one of the aisles. He would have followed her to Timbuktu with just that one gesture. Not to mention the view he had from behind.

She stopped in the middle of the aisle and waved toward a display of tackle and fishing poles. “I don’t know what you’re looking for, but if you were to ask my dad, he’ll tell you the best one is this graphite bait caster right here. Lot of folks go for this spinning combo—” she pointed to another, fancier pole “—but my dad always says that the right pole sits in your hand like it was made for your palm. Not too heavy, not too light, and when you go to pull up on the hook, the pole does the work.”

It was all pretty much Greek to him. “Okay, let me see one of the graphic things.”

“Graphite.” She grinned at his mistake then handed him the pole. “It also matters where you’re fishing and what you’re fishing for.”

“Well, I don’t really know the second answer. I’m meeting Harry Washington over at Ray Prescott’s place. It’s a job interview. Sort of.”

She laughed. “I know Harry. He’s not much on formalities. Ray’s place is right on the water, so chances are you’re doing a little surf fishing. That’s a different animal from fishing in the lake. You might want to try this pole instead.” She pulled yet another from the seemingly endless rack. “It’s got a heavier reel. That will help you if you’re going for some striped bass or red drum. And the gear is heavy enough, in case you accidentally hook a shark.”

He took the new pole she handed him and hefted it in his palm. It seemed strong, solid. “Sounds like you know what you’re talking about.”

She turned and gave him a grin. “Well, when you’re daddy’s girl, and the only kid at that, you play soccer and catch fish and learn how to shoot a rifle. At the same time you’re learning how to curl your eyelashes and pick out lipstick and wear high heels.”

He chuckled then put out his hand. “I think with a line like that, we should be formally introduced. I’m Colton. Colton...Barlow.” The name sounded strange still, but it was beginning to grow on him.

Confusion muddied her eyes. “One of the Barlows? With Jack, Luke and Mac?”

Small-town living, Colton thought and grinned. “Sort of. I’m their half brother. From Atlanta. Firefighter, novice fisherman and decent first baseman.”

He didn’t know what made him give her that minirésumé, but then she laughed, and it made his day.

“Pleased to meet you, Colton Barlow from Atlanta. I’m Rachel Morris, daughter of the famous Ernie. Expert fisherwoman and not-bad shortstop.”

“Maybe you could teach me a thing or two about catching the right one.”

Her smile reached into her eyes, lighting up her entire face. A flirty, teasing look in those green depths toyed with the edges of her lips. “Is that what you’re here for? Because we don’t sell matches made in heaven. Just fishing poles and garden rakes.”

“I’m just talking trout and bass.” He picked up another pole from the ones she’d pointed out to him, hefted it for weight, put it back and reselected the one she’d given him. From feel at least, it seemed like Rachel’s choice was the best. “Definitely not long-term commitments.”

“Just what this town needs. Another confirmed bachelor.” But she laughed when she said it, took the fishing pole from him and walked back to the register. She punched in a few keys then recited the price and thanked him when he handed over a credit card.

While she was finishing the transaction, Colton racked his brain for something else to say. Something to prolong the moment before he had to leave. He liked Rachel. Found her intriguing. And it had been a long, long time since he’d met a woman who interested him like that. “So, have you lived here all your life?”

Yeah, way to go on the lame question. Clearly, he was out of practice.

“Pretty much. I was born and bred here.” She printed out the credit card receipt and handed the white slip of paper to him, along with a pen. “Are you thinking about moving here? If you get the job with the fire department?”

“Maybe.”

“Still testing us out, huh?” She grinned. “Well, I can tell you this much about Stone Gap. It defines small town. If you sneeze over your Wheaties at breakfast, half the town is lined up for a flu shot by lunchtime. Most everyone here grew up in each other’s pockets, as my dad likes to say. Which means everyone knows pretty much everything about everyone else.”

“Sounds...suffocating.”

“It can be.” She shrugged. “But in a small town, someone’s always there if you need help. If you’re down, there’s a neighbor or a friend to pull you back up. Stone Gap has its faults, like any place, but at its core, it’s a great town to live in. And you can’t beat the weather or the fact that we’re right on the water.”

He chuckled. “Are you with the welcoming committee?”

She blushed, a soft pink that stole across her cheeks. “No, I just...finally learned to appreciate this place.”

“I’ve never lived in a place that I loved like that. Atlanta’s fine, but it’s a big city. You can get...lost there pretty easily.” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.

“Lost in more ways than one?” she said softly.

Colton cleared his throat. He wasn’t about to unload his life history in a hardware store with a woman he barely knew. Even if every time she smiled, she made him want to linger for hours on end. “Well, thanks for the tips about Stone Gap. I’ll keep them in mind.”

“Sure. Anytime. And if you want the twenty-five-cent tour, you know where I am.”

“Twenty-five cents? That’s it?”

She blushed again. “It’s a small town.”

That made him laugh. “Harry already told me where the best apple pie is.”

“Then you’re down to the twenty-cent tour. Unless you have already discovered the best place for making out.” The blush intensified. “I meant, for the teenagers.”

“Of course.” Making out? That made him think about climbing in the backseat of his car with Rachel and seeing where it might lead. Not a good train of thought to follow, but that didn’t stop him from a quick mental image. “Us old people are too mature for that.”

“Definitely.”

Yet everything in the undercurrent of their conversation said differently. He might be out of practice in the dating arena, but he sensed some definite attraction in the air. He had the strangest urge to lean across the counter and kiss her right now.

“Uh, I should sign this.” He bent his head and scrawled his name across the receipt then handed it back to her.

“Thanks,” she said. She lifted the fishing pole and gave it to him. “Need anything else?”

Your phone number, his brain whispered. Because he definitely wanted to get to know Rachel Morris, fisherwoman and shortstop, much better. But he was leaving in a few days, so asking her out wouldn’t make any sense.

But as he headed out of the store, Colton had to wonder if maybe forgoing her number was the thing that didn’t make any sense, because she lingered in his mind long after he cast the first line into the water.


Chapter Two (#u48e73f52-1c42-556e-a55a-e074036c3a32)

Rachel dusted shelves that didn’t need dusting and tidied displays that were already tidy. It was a Tuesday, one of the least busy days in her dad’s shop. Her only customer had been the tall, good-looking firefighter in a faded blue T-shirt and stonewashed jeans that hugged his legs and told her Colton Barlow was a man who worked out. A lot. Good Lord, his biceps alone were enough to make her mind start fantasizing. Hot and yummy, and a definite change from the older, potbellied retirees who usually came into the store.

Men who looked like Colton Barlow, and had a killer smile like his, didn’t come to Stone Gap very often. He’d stayed long enough that she almost thought he was going to ask her out. But in the end, he just paid for his purchase and headed out the door. Clearly, she’d read him wrong. Of course, she hadn’t helped things by being such a dork and blushing every five seconds, or making that stupid comment about the best place to make out. It was as if she was back in high school again and crushing on the cute boy in English class.

She shouldn’t have been disappointed—after all, she was the one who had sworn off men until she had more than five minutes of free time a day—but she was. It would have been nice, really nice, if he’d noticed more than just the type of rod and reel she was selling him.

At six she locked up, got in her car and drove across town to the three-bedroom bungalow where she’d grown up. The flower beds were overrun with weeds, the trees in desperate need of trimming and the white picket fence out front had faded to a dingy gray. It was as if time had stopped in that house, and now everything else was slowly giving up the fight.

Rachel sighed, parked her car in the drive then headed inside. Just like the outside, the interior of the house was dark and dingy, coated with a fine layer of dust and despair.

Before her mother’s death, her father had been at his store day in and day out, clocking in when the shop first opened and staying as long as anyone needed to buy something from him. Her mother had manned the ship at the house, keeping up with the plants and dishes and creating a home with everything she did.

But then cirrhosis had taken Rachel’s mother last year, leaving all of them with a hole too wide to fill. It had hit Ernie especially hard. He’d made himself a hermit in the house, losing interest in the store, in fishing, in his life. For that entire year, Rachel had run the shop single-handedly, putting her own life on hold, leaving her father to grieve while she ordered supplies and paid bills and swept the floors.

For ten months he hadn’t asked her a single question about how the store was doing. But she’d come by every day nonetheless and given him a recap. Then one day he’d called her in the middle of the day, asked her how it was going. It wasn’t much, but her father’s spark of interest had given Rachel hope that maybe, just maybe, she could get back to her own venture someday soon. Assuming she still had one, given the dent one year of not working had made in her bridal business. Just when Happily Ever After Weddings was getting off the ground, Rachel had to put it all to the side. She’d lost several bookings, and had probably given up all the ground she had worked so hard to gain the year before. But her father had needed her, and that was all that mattered.

Someday he’d be back in charge, and she’d go back to her life. Someday.

She found her father sitting at the kitchen table, a crossword puzzle in front of him. He had filled in only a handful of clues since she’d left him this morning in the same place, with the same folded section of newspaper in his hands. The breakfast dishes still sat in the sink, and there was nothing in the stove for dinner. Rachel worried that if she ever stopped coming by, her father would stop eating altogether. It was as if losing his wife had made him lose his motivation to move forward. Move anywhere, period.

“Good evening, Dad.” She pressed a kiss to his unshaven cheek. She missed the scent of his cologne, the smoothness of his skin after he shaved. “What’s for dinner?”

“I...uh...haven’t thought about it.” He blinked, his eyes bleary and red, probably from getting a few fitful hours of sleep in the recliner in front of the TV. His white hair stuck up on his head, and his T-shirt looked as though it hadn’t been washed in a month. “The day goes by so fast sometimes. I didn’t even realize it was that time already.”

“Why don’t I just throw some chicken on the grill?” Rachel pulled open the fridge and pulled out a package of meat, acting like everything was okay. That it didn’t make her heart hurt to see her once robust and busy father sitting here like a lump of clay. “You still have those potatoes?”

“Potatoes?”

“I bought them at the store yesterday. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about them. Well, I haven’t eaten any potatoes, so they’re probably in the bin in the pantry. You know, where Mom always kept them? Never store them with the onions, she’d said, but I can’t remember why.” He shook his head then turned back to the crossword. “What’s a five-letter word for in fashion?”

“Umm...” She thought about it while she sprinkled some seasoning on the chicken, then dug in the bin in the pantry, unearthed a few potatoes, washed them and pricked their skins. “Try vogue.”

“Works for me.” He penciled it in. “Been working on this crossword all day. It’s a tough one.”

It was what he said every day. She wasn’t quite sure how her father spent the hours between breakfast—when she got here at eight and put his coffee on and fixed him some eggs—and six fifteen, when she got back from the store. She didn’t want to think of him sitting at this kitchen table, staring out the window, mourning. But truth be told, that was what she knew her father probably did every day.

“Have you called Daryl? He was in the other day. Said he wanted to get you up to the lake, see what’s biting.” Her father’s best friend had been in almost every day over the last month, checking to see if Ernie might have come in for the day. Daryl had tried calling and coming by the house, but if Ernie didn’t want to deal with someone, he just ignored them. Rachel hoped that if she kept on mentioning Daryl and her father’s favorite pastime, it might get him out the door.

Her father waved that off. Again. “Maybe when the weather is better.”

Rachel glanced out the window at clear skies, a sunlit day. “Today was a great day for fishing, Dad.”

That made her think of the firefighter again. Colton Barlow. Novice fisherman. Decent first baseman. And very hot guy in general. She wondered how his fishing trip had gone, and whether he’d be back to the store. Whether he’d ask her for coffee—

Then she glanced at her father and realized she probably didn’t have time to date. Heck, she barely had time to take care of herself. There were dishes to do, laundry to process, some weeding to tackle, then she had to go home and take care of her own chores, sleep, get up, work the store and come back to her father’s house again. Rinse and repeat, day after day, until her father got back into his life. “Dad, I’m going to get this on the grill, then I’ll come back in and do the dishes.”

“You don’t have to. They can keep.” He never even looked up from the crossword. “I’ll do them later.”

She sighed. It was what he always said, whenever she offered to clean for him, but he never swept or washed or did anything about the mess inside the house or the weeds out front. And all the other thousand little things that had gone undone for months.

She put the chicken on the grill then came back inside. She fished out the register report from her pocket and smoothed the paper on the table in front of her father. “Here’s today’s tally. Things were a little slow.” She didn’t mention that her only customer had been the firefighter.

The store had barely been surviving in the last few months, but she never told her father that. If she did, his disappointment—in the store, in her—would likely make him retreat even further. So she tried to keep things upbeat, positive. There were days when even that was a challenge.

Her father gave the paper a glance. “Business will pick up.”

He’d been saying that for months. But business had dropped to a dangerous low, and right now it was costing more to keep the lights on than she was taking in during the day. She was doing her best, but the people of Stone Gap loved her dad, came to him for his expertise, the way he made everyone feel welcome. She was trying, but she wasn’t Ernie. “I think everyone misses you down at the shop.”

“I’ll be by.” His focus was back on the crossword. “Someday.”

Rachel slipped into the seat opposite her father and put a hand over her dad’s. “Someday...like tomorrow? Come on, Dad. It’ll be good for you to—”

He shoved the chair back so fast, it squealed against the tile floor. “I’m fine right here. So let it go.”

Then he stomped out of the room, down the hall and into his bedroom. The door shut with a slam, and Rachel was left alone, with the same mess she’d been trying to clean up for the past year.

She fixed the chicken, did the dishes and processed a load of laundry. Then she left her dad a covered plate and a note that said she loved him before she headed out the door. Rachel sat in her car for a long time, debating whether to go home and do the same at her house, then work on the books and orders for the store.

Or maybe, for once, do something for herself.

That made her think of Colton again. He was here on vacation, she presumed. Did that mean he was out tonight? Sitting on a bar stool somewhere, or still fishing? Or was he the type to fill his evenings with a long run or a good novel?

When was the last time she had done any of the above? Had enough time to buy a book, never mind read one? Take a long, lazy walk on a warm summer evening? Sleep in on a Sunday and dawdle over the paper with a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll?

As she neared the street toward the cozy apartment she lived in, she saw the sign for the Sea Shanty. She debated at the stop sign then finally turned left, away from home and toward the restaurant. She rolled down the windows, let in the ocean breeze and tasted the short burst of freedom in the air.

The Sea Shanty wasn’t much, as restaurants went, but the food was good, and they’d recently started featuring live bands almost every night of the week. Rachel picked up her phone, pressed a button and waited for the other end to answer. “You up for a glass of wine and way too many calories?”

“Hell, yes.” Melissa, Rachel’s best friend since grade school, let out a throaty laugh. “Tell me where and when, and I’ll get Jason to watch these kids so I can escape the shackles of motherhood for a few minutes.”

“The Sea Shanty. As soon as possible.”

“Hold on a sec.” Melissa covered the phone then yelled to Jason, “I’m going out so you’ve got the rugrats for dinner.” Then she was back. “Give me ten minutes.”

“I can’t wait.” Rachel pulled into the lot, parked her car and tucked her keys in her purse. How long had it been since she’d had dinner and drinks with friends? Clearly, way too long if she couldn’t remember. She had to find a better way to balance her life. Otherwise, she had a feeling she’d wake up a year from now and realize she was still in the exact same place as before. She wanted to date again, go out more often, get her business running. Coming here tonight instead of going home was a good first step, but Rachel had a feeling she was going to need a miracle if she wanted to carve more than an impromptu dinner out of an already tightly structured twenty-four hours.

Yeah, definitely a miracle. She still had a pile of paperwork to do at home, the end of the quarter financials to finalize and a restock order to process. She didn’t have time for a long dinner—maybe a quick bite and the rest to go. Melissa would understand, Rachel hoped. Maybe in a few more months...

But even Rachel didn’t hold out hope for that. Her father was all she had left, and there was no way she was going to abandon him. If it took one year or ten, she would be there, taking care of him and doing what she should have done—

Before her mother died.

The guilt rolled through Rachel like a wave. Those two years after her mother got sick, Rachel had been so invested—too invested—in her own life. Her father hadn’t even told her about her mother’s illness early on, and she’d missed all the subtle clues that something was awry. Rachel had been pouring herself into her new business, into getting it off the ground, and by the time she realized her mother was sick—

It was too late.

Her father had been the one who had dealt with the doctor’s appointments, the long, sleepless nights, the funeral plans at the end. Her mother had told her, just before the end, that she had begged Ernie not to tell Rachel about the cirrhosis, because she wanted her daughter to be happy, unburdened by an illness that took full-time caregiving. Her father had agreed, and the two of them had done their best to shield their daughter from the situation until the weakness and changes in her mother’s face spoke the truth.

That was why Rachel had dropped everything to be there for her father now. She may have let him down before, but she wasn’t going to do it again, regardless of how long it took.

The Sea Shanty was half filled with diners, and several people sat at the outdoor bar. Rachel opted for an outdoor table, since the weather was warm, the breeze light, the ocean waves lapping at the shore like a quiet song in the background. The band was tuning up, a three-piece group she’d heard before and liked. They did a lot of covers of popular songs, but had a strong female singer who could belt out a ballad, too.

Rachel was just opening her menu when she caught a glimpse of Colton Barlow, just settling down at the end of the bar. He ordered a beer then picked up a menu.

Damn, he was a good-looking man. He’d changed since this morning, into a fresh pair of jeans and a pale blue polo shirt that stretched across the muscles in his back. His dark hair was damp, which had her picturing him in the shower. Naked. Soapy.

Crap, crap. He’d turned and caught her looking. She jerked the menu up to her face and prayed Melissa arrived, like right now. Instead, Colton slipped off the bar stool, crossed the wooden deck toward her and, in less time than it took to flip a burger, derailed all of Rachel’s careful plans.

* * *

The pretty clerk from the hardware store blushed when Colton approached. He liked that. She’d come across as so self-assured in the shop, and yet when he caught her eye now, a shy smile flitted across her face, and she dropped her attention to her menu. Avoiding him? Or embarrassed that he had caught her staring?

“You seem to be everywhere I am,” he said. Not exactly a winner as far as opening lines went, but in his defense, he was a little rusty. It had been at least three months since he’d been on a date, almost a year since he’d been in anything remotely approaching a relationship.

“It’s a small town. It’s bound to happen.” She put her menu to the side and crossed her hands on the table. All business now, the last traces of her blush gone. “So how was the fishing?”

“Great. The rod you sold me worked out well. Caught two striped bass, but no sharks.”

“Just as well,” she said, and a smile flitted across her face. “If you got bit while you were staying here, it might put a dent in our tourism industry.”

He arched a brow. “Stone Gap has a tourism industry?”

“Well, only if you count the Fullertons, who come down every winter to vacation with the Whitmans.” Then she glanced at him again, and her cheeks grew pink. “Well, them...and you, of course.”

“Of course.” He looked down and noticed another place setting and a second menu at the seat across from her. For a date? Colton had no right to care whether Rachel was dating anyone or not, but a part of him did. He knew he should just let the conversation drop, let her go. He was leaving town in a few days, after all, and anything he started with this beautiful woman he would never be able to finish. Except he couldn’t seem to get his feet to move. “I wanted to thank you for the fishing advice you gave me.”

She waved that off and gave him a smile. A genuine one that brightened her eyes, her whole face. Something deep inside Colton warmed. “It was nothing. The advice comes free with the purchase of the rod and reel.”

Maybe so, and maybe she wasn’t interested in him, but in that moment Colton decided he wasn’t going to walk away with regret a second time. So maybe he was only going to be in town for a short while. And maybe she was waiting on a man. But he loved the way she smiled and especially loved the way she blushed, and he didn’t want to return to his seat without knowing when he was going to see her again. “Let me take you to lunch tomorrow.”

“Oh, I can’t.” She shook her head. “I’m working and it’s...difficult for me to get away.”

“Then dinner.”

“I have... I, uh, don’t think I can. I’m sorry.” Another head shake, this one a little slower and sadder.

“Are you just playing hard to get?” He grinned. “Or are you really this busy?”

“No, really, I am this busy. My life is...complicated right now.”

“Join the club. Mine is a bit of a mess.” He glanced again at the second place setting and decided maybe she simply wasn’t interested in him. “I’m sorry. I should let you get back to your date.”

“Good Lord, don’t do that. This poor girl hasn’t had sex in months.”

Rachel turned red as a beet. Colton spun around to find a short brunette with a big smile and an even bigger purse pulling out the second chair. She thrust a hand toward him. “I’m Melissa, her married best friend. Who is desperately trying to get Rachel back into the dating scene again before she shrivels up and dies like a prune. And you are...single and employed?”

He laughed. “Yes to the first, and sort of to the second. Colton Barlow. I’m a firefighter in Atlanta.”

Melissa grinned up at Colton, then shot another grin at Rachel. “He’s cute, did you notice?”

Rachel looked as though she wanted to run from the restaurant. So Colton pulled up another chair, spun it backward and straddled the seat. Which only made Rachel blush harder and piqued Colton’s interest more. “Maybe,” he said. “Seems like a nice enough town. With a lot of nice people.”

Melissa nodded. “Very nice. Rachel here is—”

“Trying to order dinner,” Rachel cut in. “Did you look at the menu yet, Melissa?”

Melissa waved a hand in dismissal. “I know the menu here. It never changes. Whereas the population of Stone Gap, well, looks like that is changing. And weren’t you just saying the other day that there were no good men to date in this town?”

Rachel choked on her water. Colton choked back a laugh then cleared his throat.

“Then maybe you should take me up on my lunch invitation,” Colton said to Rachel. “So you can eliminate one more single man from the list.”

“He asked you to lunch?” Melissa said. She leaned across the table. “And you said no? Why on earth did you say no?”

“I’m busy and—” Rachel threw up her hands. “I am not having this discussion. I’m ordering some food.” She signaled to the waitress. A young blonde came bouncing over to the table, readying a pad of paper.

“What can I get you?” the girl said. She chewed a stick of gum while she talked, which added a snap to each syllable.

“I’d like the fish tacos,” Rachel said. “And a glass of chardonnay. Melissa?”

But Melissa wasn’t paying attention. She was staring at Colton as if he was the last man on earth and she was going to wrap him up and deliver him to Rachel for Christmas. “Did you say Barlow? As in related to Mac, Jack and Luke?”

He nodded. “They’re my half brothers.”

“Well, then, that’s a whole other vote in your favor. Everybody loves the Barlows.” Melissa leaned in toward Colton and lowered her voice. “Rachel is a bit...stubborn, and she is busier than anyone I’ve ever met, but believe me, she is worth whatever hell she puts you through to date her.”

“Melissa!”

“What? I’m just making a case for you.” Melissa grinned. She turned to the waitress, who was standing there, tapping her pen on her pad. “Bring me the seafood salad. Those darn kids have left me on a perpetual diet. And for the gentleman—”

“Who isn’t staying,” Rachel cut in.

“See what I said? Stubborn.” Melissa grinned at Colton. “But don’t let that... Oh, look. It’s Bobby and Della.”

Colton turned and saw his father, standing by the hostess station with another couple, and Della, his wife—and the mother of the other Barlow boys. At the same time, Bobby noticed Colton, and he stiffened. He whispered something to Della, and she turned toward Colton. She worked up a smile and gave Colton a little wave.

Colton stared toward Bobby, but a pained look filled his father’s face. The other couple, unaware of the tension filling the restaurant, started chatting with Bobby. He gave Colton a half nod then turned his attention back to the people he was with. A second later the hostess gathered up a pile of menus and started waving toward a table on the far end of the room.

A deep ache started in Colton’s chest. The father he’d always wanted, the father he had finally found, and despite the auspicious beginning they’d had at Jack’s wedding, Colton could tell Bobby still looked uncomfortable with the idea of welcoming his illegitimate son into the family fold.

It was a small town, after all, and that meant they would inevitably run into each other. Colton told himself he hadn’t expected a warm, familial welcome, but—

He had. He’d hoped for some Hollywood reunion, with his father trotting him around town with pride, telling everyone that Colton was his son.

A son who let two of his best friends die in a fire? Did you really think he’d want to spread that news?

Colton shook off the thoughts. If he let the guilt in, he knew it would take over every thought, and he’d be stuck in that limbo he’d barely climbed out of. He needed to move forward, make a new start. Not dwell on the past and choices he couldn’t undo.

“I’ll let you ladies enjoy your dinner,” Colton said, then got to his feet. He crossed over to Bobby and Della as they made their way through the room, thinking maybe he had misread the look on Bobby’s face. But no, the closer Colton drew, the more Bobby’s face pinched, and the deeper the dread sank in Colton’s gut.

“Hi, Colton,” Della said. She was a warm and welcoming woman with dark copper hair and a wide smile. Colton had liked her on the spot. If there was one word he associated with Della Barlow, it was grace. Despite finding out her husband had had an affair, and that the relationship had produced a child, Della had treated him as one of the family. For that, Colton was grateful.

“Yeah, uh, hi,” Bobby said. The five of them had stopped in the center of the restaurant, twenty feet from the empty table. “Nice to see you again, Colton.”

A tall, thin man with glasses as round as salad bowls looked over at Colton with a mixture of familiarity and confusion. “Come on and join us, son.” The man squinted. “Wait. Are you Mac?”

“No. I’m Colton.”

“Colton?” The man looked at Bobby. “Who’s Colton? One of the cousins?”

“Yeah, uh, look, why don’t you go grab the table, Jerry? Della and I will be right there.”

“Sure, sure.” Jerry and his wife took a seat at the table and accepted menus from the hostess. They sent over one more confused glance in Bobby’s direction.

“How...how are you?” Bobby said.

“Good. Pretty much the same as yesterday.”

“That’s good.” Bobby shifted his weight. “Uh, you’re staying in town?”

“For a few days, yeah.”

He waited for his father to invite him over, to ask him to join them for dinner. Instead, Bobby glanced over at his friends then back at his son. “Uh, Colton, we need to...” Bobby waved toward the table across the room with that pinched look in his face again.

One of the cousins, that’s what his father had agreed Colton was. If anything told Colton where he ranked in his father’s life, that did it. Why was he still here? Why was he still hoping for a miracle that wasn’t going to come?

“Well, good to see you. Enjoy your dinner.” Colton turned away then fished a twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket, tossed it on the bar and walked out of the Sea Shanty. He’d been a fool for coming to this town and thinking he could manufacture a father-son relationship out of thin air. And an even bigger fool for thinking if he stayed any longer he might find all the things he’d been looking for.

* * *

Rachel watched Colton exit the restaurant and told herself she was relieved. She didn’t have time, after all, for a relationship. And especially not one with a man who wasn’t going to be here for more than a few days.

“That was one delicious hunk of man,” Melissa said. “Tell me again how you met him?”

“He came into my father’s store. Bought a fishing pole.” She shrugged.

“Well, I think that’s an auspicious start already.”

Rachel laughed. “Auspicious start? I wasn’t aware anything was started.”

“Then you didn’t see the look the two of you exchanged.” Melissa arched a brow. “Definitely something started. And he’s interested in fishing—”

“He bought one pole. A couple of things for tackle. Said he hadn’t fished in a long time.”

“Close enough to interested.” Melissa leaned forward. “Did you give him all the ins and outs of pole handling?”

Rachel laughed. “Did you really just say that? ‘The ins and outs of pole handling’?”

Melissa grinned. “What? I’m stuck at home with kids all day. When I do get out, it’s like I got a free pass from the warden. I get in all kinds of trouble.”

Rachel laughed. “Is that what we’re doing tonight? Getting into all kinds of trouble?”

“Well, my trouble can only last till nine o’clock. Then this pumpkin has to haul her butt home because the baby will be up at the crack of too early.” Melissa let out a long sigh. “Anyway, enough about my pre-ball Cinderella life. How are you doing?”

“I’m good.”

Melissa arched a brow. “This is me you’re talking to, remember? You’ve had a lot on your shoulders lately, and I worry about you putting everyone else first and yourself at the bottom of a very long list.”

“Spoken like an expert.” Rachel grinned.

“True.” Melissa laughed. Her friend was always running her kids here there and everywhere, rarely finding enough time to go shopping or get her hair done. “I’m just as bad. The way I see it, all us kettles and pots need to stick together, since we’re all in the same boat.”

That made Rachel burst out laughing. “That is the worst mash-up of trite phrases I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey, everyone has to have a special skill.” Their food arrived, and while they ate, they exchanged small talk about Melissa’s kids, several friends they had in common and the hardware store.

A little while later, Melissa glanced at her watch and let out a sigh. “Sadly, it’s time for this pumpkin to hit the road. Maybe we can grab coffee later in the week? Two of the kids are in a summer camp, which means I actually have freedom. Or at least as much freedom as a mom with a baby strapped to her hip can get.”

“You love those kids and you know it.”

A sweet smile stole across Melissa’s face. It was the smile of someone in a secret club, one where only those who had children knew the password and the handshake. For a second envy rolled through Rachel. How she wanted the same for herself, for her own life. Considering she wasn’t even dating, never mind married, that kind of thing was going to have to wait. Besides, she had enough on her plate, as Melissa had said, with her father and trying to run his business, while also stealing a minute here and there to keep her own afloat.

They paid the bill and walked outside together. The fireman was nowhere to be seen, and Rachel told herself she wasn’t disappointed. But she was.

Melissa gave her a tight hug. “Promise me you’ll take time for yourself this week,” she said.

“I don’t have—”

“You do,” Melissa said. “If I have five minutes for a little girl time and an extra-long shower, then you can find a couple hours to go out to dinner with a hot fireman.”

“How do you know I want to go out to dinner with Colton?”

“I may be a tired, worn-out mommy and a wife who hasn’t had a conversation with my husband in months that hasn’t been interrupted by someone puking or yelling, but even I can still recognize interest when I see it.” Melissa gave her a hug. “Life is a train, Rachel. You gotta reach out and grab on for the ride before you miss it entirely.”


Chapter Three (#u48e73f52-1c42-556e-a55a-e074036c3a32)

Scrambled eggs.

Who would have thought all three of the Barlow boys sitting in a booth at the Good Eatin’ Café would have the exact same taste in breakfast? Two eggs, scrambled, wheat toast, bacon, extra crispy. Luke, Mac and Colton had recited their orders then laughed when they parroted each other. Even Viv, the owner of the diner, couldn’t resist a chuckle. “Do you boys know that is the exact same breakfast your father orders when he’s here on Sunday mornin’? Y’all are a bunch of peas in a pod.”

Luke chuckled as Viv walked away. “Guess we have a lot in common,” he said to Colton. “Let me guess. Your favorite pizza is—” he put a finger to his lips and feigned thought “—pepperoni.”

Mac gave Luke a gentle slug. “Everyone loves pepperoni.”

“Well, everyone in our family does.” Luke arched a brow in Colton’s direction. Outside, rain began to fall in a curtain. In seconds the sunny day turned gray, and the pavement was speckled with fast-forming puddles. “Am I right?”

Colton grinned. “Yup. Though the real question, and the one that determines if we’re brothers is...” He glanced at Luke and Mac. “Red Sox or Yankees?”

“Oooh, them’s fightin’ words,” Luke said. “Everybody with a brain knows the Yankees are the only team worth cheering for.”

Mac scoffed. “And that’s why I’m the smart one. The Red Sox are the best ball team. Hands down.”

Luke and Mac turned to Colton. “Fess up. Which one do you root for?”

Colton started to answer when the door to the diner opened and Rachel walked in. She was wearing a pale yellow sundress and her hair was tied back in a ponytail. She shook off the rain, brushing the drops off her bare arms. Even damp from getting caught in the storm, she looked...fun. Like something he’d been looking for and didn’t know he wanted to find until he saw it. “I’ll be back in a second.”

He heard his brothers’ laughter as he left the table and went over to Rachel. She was just slipping onto one of the counter stools when he reached her and dropped into the empty seat beside her. “Good morning.”

She turned to him with a slight lilt of surprise in her brows and a smile toying with the edge of her lips. “Good morning. You seem to be everywhere I go lately.”

He put up his hands. “I swear, I’m not stalking you.”

She laughed. He liked her laugh. It was light, airy, sweet. “It’s okay. Sometimes living here feels like living in a circle. I run into the same people, at the same time, in the same places.”

“That’s the complete opposite of Atlanta. Outside of work, I rarely run into people I know. It’s kind of like being invisible.”

“And do you like that?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t lived anywhere else before. So I guess I don’t know what I really want or like in a place to live. I do know that it’s nice to be in a place where life is a little slower. I feel like I can...” He shook his head. “God, I’m going to sound all sentimental if I say this.”

“Say what?”

She seemed so interested that he figured even if he did sound like a total dork, it would be okay. “Here, I feel like I can stop and smell the roses.” He chuckled. “Seriously, I’m not normally this sappy. Must be the rain.”

“Or maybe Stone Gap is rubbing off on you. Before you know it, you’ll be taking the chief’s job offer and buying a house.”

“How do you know Harry offered me a job?”

“It’s a small town, Colton, remember?” She grinned. He liked her smile. Liked it a lot. A part of him ached to reach out and trace the sweet curve of her lips. “Word spreads, especially when there’s a hot eligible firefighter in town.”

He grinned. “You think I’m hot and eligible?”

A faint blush filled her cheeks. “Well, people think you are. That’s what I hear.”

He wanted to know if she was one of those people. If she wanted to kiss him even half as bad as he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to see her again, wanted to spend a long, lazy afternoon with her. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a coin. “Here,” he said, taking her hand and dropping it into her palm.

She gave him a grin. “What’s this for?”

“Prepayment for the twenty-five-cent tour of Stone Gap.”

Rachel laughed and started to hand back the coin. “That was just a joke. And I really am swamped right now. I don’t think I even have time for the nickel tour.”

He closed his hand over hers. “Keep it. And if a hole opens up in your schedule, I’d love to see Stone Gap from your perspective.”

Electricity arced in the space between them. It was only a quarter, and a simple touch of hands, but Colton could swear he felt the same current from her. Rachel’s eyes widened, and she glanced down at their joined hands, then pulled hers away. She didn’t try to give back the quarter again, and he took that as a good sign.

“So, you’re, ah, here with Luke and Mac? Is Jack still on his honeymoon?” she said as the waitress deposited a cup of coffee before her. Changing the subject, but still talking to him. Another good sign.

“Yes and yes. The three of us were grabbing breakfast.” He glanced over his shoulder at his brothers. Luke arched a brow and shot him a grin. Mac was busy on his phone, probably working.

If Colton lived here, he’d probably see the three other Barlow boys a lot more often. That would be nice. Real nice.

As for his father...that was a work in progress. Somehow, Colton had had this crazy idea that everything would be good just because their first meeting went well. But his father hadn’t been as warm and welcoming as his brothers had been, and Colton wasn’t quite sure if he should continue to reach out or just let it go. Either way, it hurt, even if he was too damned old to care whether his daddy loved him.

Living here would mean seeing Bobby around town, too. That might not be such a benefit, given the rocky road they were on right now.

“As much as I complain about living in a circle and running into people I know everywhere I go, life here...grows on you,” Rachel said, her voice soft and sweet. “It sounds like something from a Hallmark card, but living in a small town is like having a houseful of your favorite family and friends. They’ll get on your nerves from time to time, but you’re also so glad to see all those friendly faces whenever life gets tough.” She ran a finger along the rim of her coffee cup, her eyes downcast, her voice even softer now. “When my mom died, it was the people of this town who helped me keep the shop running, and they’ve been the biggest supporters I could ask for. People keep trying to help my dad, too, but he’s...stubborn.”

Colton chuckled. “I think we all know someone like that. My mom is a stubborn woman, too. She...does things the way she wants to do them when she wants to do them.” That was probably the nicest way he could say that his mother had been mostly consumed with her own life, leaving him and Katie to fend for themselves more often than not.

“You said you’re their half brother. So you’re not... Della’s son?”

Even though Colton was old enough that he shouldn’t care what people thought about how he was conceived, that didn’t stop a little hesitation in his answer. He wondered if maybe Bobby was dealing with similar reactions to Colton’s arrival. “No, I’m not. My father met my mother when he was working in Atlanta.”

No need to divulge the family history that he had been the product of a brief affair. The Barlows were well loved in this town, and his conception had been more than thirty years ago. Ancient history that didn’t need to be dragged forward. Colton was a man who much preferred to live in the present.

“How long have you known the rest of the Barlows?” Rachel asked.

“I just met them a couple weeks ago. I didn’t know about any of them until now.” He glanced over at Luke and Mac, who were grinning at him like a couple of fools. Clearly, there was going to be merciless teasing when he returned to the table. Which he should have done a long time ago, but he really liked talking to Rachel. Watching her smile, the way that gesture lit her eyes and brightened her face.

“Wow. That’s a lot to digest in such a short time frame. No wonder you seemed a little...discombobulated when you came in the shop.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s been a lot. But my brothers are great and that makes it easier.”

“Well, you’re in a good family. Mac, Luke and Jack are great guys.”

It heartened him that his brothers were well liked. He wondered if maybe—by extension—Rachel would paint him with the same brush. “Does that approval umbrella extend over me, too?” Colton asked. “And encourage you to say yes when I remind you that I asked you out?”

She took a sip from the white mug, avoiding his gaze. “I thought I said no to a date.”

“You were...vague. So let me try this again.” He spun the stool until he was facing her head-on and looking into those deep green eyes. He knew he probably wasn’t staying in this town for long. Knew he was crazy to date a woman he barely knew, a woman he wouldn’t see again if he went back to Atlanta. But he wanted more of those smiles that seemed to light her from somewhere deep inside. “Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight, Rachel?”

She opened her mouth, closed it. “Tonight? As in this evening?”

He smirked. “That’s usually the time people have dinner.”

“It’s just that I usually bring dinner to my dad’s house and eat with him.”

“Oh, okay. I understand.” Disappointment weighed in his gut. That no was a lot more definite. He laid a hand on the counter, inches away from hers, got to his feet. “Well, I’ll let you enjoy your breakfast.”

Just as he turned away, she covered his hand with her own. “But maybe I can meet you a little later. Like...seven?”

It was like he was fifteen again and the pretty girl in algebra had sent him a note across the aisle. He tried not to look like too much of an overeager dork. “Seven would be great. Let me pick you up. Make it an official date and everything.”

“An official date?” She shook her head and let out a little laugh. “I haven’t been on one of those in so long, I don’t think I remember what to do.”

“Just smile, Rachel,” he said, reaching up and tracing an easy line along the curve of her smile. Wanting to do so much more than that. “The rest will fall right into place.”

* * *

Just smile.

That was pretty much all she did the rest of the day. She smiled as she went over the bills. Smiled as she restocked the shelves. Smiled at Harvey when he came in with the daily bait delivery and smiled as she stacked containers of worms and crickets in the small refrigerator by the door.

The bell over the shop door rang a little after two, and Ginny Wilkins strode into the shop. Rachel had known Ginny pretty much all her life. The younger girl had been a cheerleader in high school and one of the most popular debutantes in all of Stone Gap. She came from a family that could trace its roots almost all the way to the Mayflower and had a six-acre property just on the edge of town, presided over by a two-story white antebellum mansion that had withstood hurricanes and the Civil War, and would probably outlast them all.

Ginny was also a girl known for extravagance in everything she did, which included the bright pink tea-length dress she was wearing, paired with an even brighter pink purse and flats. Her platinum-blond hair was done in bouncy curls that danced along her shoulders. “Rachel, I am so glad you are here!” Ginny said. “I need your help.”

Rachel slid around the counter, a little perplexed as to why Ginny, the girliest girl she’d ever known, would be in a hardware shop. Maybe buying a gift for her father or boyfriend? “Sure. What do you need? We have a sale on—”

“I’m getting married!” The words exploded out of Ginny, complete with a little squeal and a wild flourish of a giant pear-shaped diamond on her left hand. “And I need you to plan it for me. I haven’t the foggiest idea where to start or what to do.”

“Ginny, I’m not doing that right now. I’m working here, at my dad’s shop. I—”

“But you have to! You’re the only one I trust. I mean, you did such a fabulous job with Arnelle Beauchamp’s wedding and, oh, my, the venue you set up for Lucy Coleridge’s wedding—amazing. I know you can do something even better for me. And that will make those two gooses green with envy over how amazing my wedding was.” Ginny grinned. “You know there’s nothing I like better than going further over the top than anyone else.”

That was true. If there was one woman in Stone Gap to add more ruffles, more pink, more flowers, it was Ginny. She’d never been the kind to sit sedately in a corner. Everything she did, she did loud. Planning her wedding would be fun, Rachel thought. The kind of no-holds-barred event that would not only be an adventure, but also get people talking about Rachel’s business.

The exact kind of jump-start she needed to get her company running again. If Ginny’s wedding was a year or so away, there would be plenty of time for Rachel to both run the shop and get the event planned. And by then, surely her dad would be back at work every day.

Yes, she could make it work. Just thinking about getting back to the wedding-planning world that she loved caused a little tickle of excitement in Rachel’s stomach. It was an incredible opportunity.

“I know the ideal location, Ginny. Perfect for the kind of wedding you want to have. There’s this new hotel two towns away that’s really something to talk about. It’s pink and white and giant,” Rachel said. She could already see it decorated in Ginny’s signature color, imagine the band on the stage, the guests dining on something extravagant. It would be amazing, as Ginny had said.

“Pink? My favorite color!” Ginny exclaimed. The woman used more exclamation points in her daily speech than an Oscar winner. “All my bridesmaids are going to wear flamingo pink, and I’m going to have bright pink roses in my bouquet and a trail of them down the back of my dress, and it will look like I’m walking out of a garden. It’s going to be all pink, all the time!”

Rachel bit back a grin at Ginny’s ideas. That would be a wedding to remember for sure. “This hotel also has the most amazing outdoor patio, overlooking the water. You could have a gazebo on the patio and get married right there, with the boats in the background.”

“Do you think we could get all the boats to have pink sails?” Ginny asked.

“I’m not sure,” Rachel hedged. She could just see herself making that kind of request in the harbormaster’s office. “That’s a pretty tall order. But I’m sure we could hang pink organza from the gazebo and along the aisle.”

Ginny clapped her hands. “Oh, my, that sounds too perfect for words! And do you think you can get it all done in three months?”

“Three...months?” A stone sank in Rachel’s gut. “As in ninety days?”

“I know it’s fast, but when you fall in love, you just don’t want to wait. And I love my Bernard so very much.” A smile stole across Ginny’s face, the kind that only a woman truly in love wore, as if she had a secret no one else in the world possessed. It almost made Rachel jealous.

“There’s no way I can get a wedding pulled together in three months,” Rachel said, and tried not to let her own disappointment show through. This would have been the opportunity she’d needed, the big break that would breathe new life into her gasping business. “I’m still running this store full time. And the amount of work involved in such a short time frame...” She let out a long breath. “I’m sorry, Ginny.”

“But you have to do it, Rachel. You are seriously the only one in the world I trust to handle my wedding. Can you please, pretty, pretty please, just think about it? Just for a day or two.” Ginny cocked a hip to the side and wagged a pink-tipped nail in Rachel’s direction. “You know, my wedding should make all the papers, and if my daddy has anything to say about it, it’ll end up on the local news, too. That should be great for your business! A bonanza, for sure!”

It would be fantastic for her business. But Rachel couldn’t see a way to make it work. There simply weren’t enough hours in the day to do both. She couldn’t let her father down, couldn’t abandon his store. But instead of telling Ginny that straight out, Rachel found herself saying, “Yeah, sure, I’ll think about it.”

Ginny squealed, then drew Rachel into a tight hug. “Awesomesauce. I’ll call you in a couple days or you call me. I’m so excited!”

After waving as Ginny pulled away from the curb in her pink Mercedes, Rachel let her smile falter as she slowly walked back into the empty shop. There were no customers, and the full shelves and almost empty cash register seemed to mock her. She was spending her days here, trying to keep her father’s dream alive, while her own died a slow death.

On the back wall hung a series of plaques and a small shelf of trophies. Best Fisherman, Biggest Catch, Good Neighbor Award. All the things that made up her dad and his life here in Stone Gap. It was like walking through her memories, remembering the fishing trips to the lake, perched in the back of the boat when he reeled in the biggest bass anyone had ever seen, sitting on a hard metal folding chair in the lobby of the town hall while the mayor of Stone Gap handed her father a plaque and a citation for his help the day after a hurricane whipped through Stone Gap and leveled half the town.

That was the kind of guy her dad was. Hard-working, competitive, considerate to his neighbors, to everyone who knew him. She couldn’t abandon him.

Couldn’t put his dreams on the shelf while she went after her own. Even if a part of her heart broke as she thought about letting her dream flutter away in a cloud of pink.


Chapter Four (#u48e73f52-1c42-556e-a55a-e074036c3a32)

Colton had never been the kind of guy that anyone would describe as romantic. He didn’t remember Valentine’s Day, rarely thought to bring flowers and stumbled over his words whenever he tried to say something poetic.

Yet here he stood in the Garden of Eden flower shop in downtown Stone Gap a little after six in the evening, debating between roses and lilies. They all looked the same to him, a jumble of pinks and yellows and reds, and he realized he didn’t know enough about Rachel to tell which she liked best.

God, this was a stupid idea. He could buy the wrong kind of flowers, or buy too many and make her wonder about his intentions. Maybe he should have picked up one of those solitary roses in the bucket on the counter at the gas station. Or nothing at all. Colton started to turn and leave when a familiar figure walked into the shop.

His younger brother Luke. A very, very welcome sight.

“If you ask me, roses are overrated. Women like something creative,” Luke said. He slipped into place beside Colton, the two of them squaring off against the colorful refrigerator case like two gunfighters. “Something that tells them you thought it through, or at least made a stab at thinking.”

“Does staring at all these options for twenty minutes, too damned confused to pick anything out, count?”

Luke chuckled. “Nope. Sorry.” He gestured toward the refrigerated case stuffed with fresh flowers. In the background, a saleslady in a green apron hovered, ready to jump in at any time. She’d already offered her help three times, but Colton had thought he could do this on his own.

Ha-ha. Yeah, he pretty much sucked at this romance thing.

“So,” Luke said, “I take it the agonizing over flowers is part of your campaign to impress the beautiful and intriguing Rachel Morris?”

Even though his brothers had teased him when he’d returned to their table in the diner that morning, he hadn’t told them he had asked Rachel out. He’d just changed the subject when the food arrived, and the two of them had let it drop. Colton thought maybe his conversation with Rachel—and his interest in her—had dropped below Luke and Mac’s radar. Yeah, not so much. “How did you know that?”

“For one, you ditched us to talk to her—”

“Sorry.” Luke was right. The time he had with his brothers was limited, and he should have stayed at the table instead of getting distracted so easily.

“No need to apologize. Pretty women always take precedence. Though you should expect some serious teasing in the days ahead.” Luke grinned. “All part of the initiation.”

“There’s an initiation?”

“Of course. You didn’t expect us to just let you become a Barlow without one, did you?”

Colton chuckled. “Guess not.” Then he glanced over at his brother, half his flesh and blood. When it came to his brothers, Colton already felt like he was part of the family. With his father...not so much. “Though I don’t think it’s quite that simple.”

“You talking about Dad?” Luke let out a sigh. “I don’t think it’s anything personal. I think he’s just struggling with the whole thing. You being here, what that means in...”

“In what?” Colton prompted.

“In a town this size. People talk, you know, and most people talk more than they should. About crap they know nothing about.”

That was what Colton had been afraid of. That even at his age, being an illegitimate son was mostly an embarrassment. What had he been thinking, just showing up here last week? At Jack’s wedding, at that?

His uncle Tank had warned him that Bobby might be...difficult. It’s going to take some getting used to, Tank had said. My brother isn’t one to embrace change. He’s a stick who is very happy staying in the mud.




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