Reuniting His Family

by Jean C. Gordon

  “She didn’t.” Rhys tapped Andie’s shoulder when Hope righted the bike and sped around the turn back to the starting line as if nothing had happened.

  “Thanks.” Andie dropped her hands. “But you see what I mean. Too nerve-racking for me to let Robbie even think about doing that.”

  “Yes, yes, I do,” Rhys said.

  Facing straight ahead as though concentrating on the race, Renee glanced sideways. Who was this sociable Rhys Maddox who could tease about his son’s crush and reassure her sister?

  Renee sat, leaving Rhys plenty of room on the bench. She looked down to the aisle and thought about going to get another soft drink, even though she didn’t actually want one, and sitting on the end when she returned. But knowing her sisters, it would only raise questions if she asked Natalie and Connor to scoot down to make room.

  Several races later, during which Renee had kept her comments to Rhys few and short, Rhys leaned toward her and asked, “Want another drink? I’m going to go get one.”

  “No, thank you.” Her answer sounded so prissy, even to her, that she wasn’t surprised when Rhys jerked straight back in his seat.

  He stood. “Anyone want something from the refreshment stand?”

  “I could use a drink,” Natalie and Andie both said, Andie frowning at Renee.

  “I could use some food, too,” Pastor Connor said. “I’ll come with you.” They collected orders and money.

  Once the guys were gone, Renee braced herself for the big-sister lecture Andie’s sour expression foretold. But on what? Being too polite? “I’m going to hit the ladies’ room,” she said before Andie could start in. She didn’t wait to see if any of her sisters wanted to come with her.

  When she returned, Rhys was sitting with Pastor Connor. They rose and let her by to her seat next to Natalie.

  “You okay?” Natalie asked.

  “Sure. Why?”

  Natalie motioned with her eyes toward Rhys.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Renee said.

  “I thought maybe he’d said something to you. You got quiet after the first race.”

  “Oh, no.” Renee waved her off. “I was just paying careful attention. I feel closer to Hope than the other kids, her being family and all.”

  Natalie seemed to accept her answer, although she wasn’t so sure Claire and Andie would have. Renee and Natalie were nearest in age and had been very close growing up, until Natalie had gone away to college. Now, Renee was closer to Claire, and Andie had always played the big-sister role in all of their lives, whether they wanted her to or not.

  Jared announced the next class of racers and Renee made a point of loudly cheering for all the kids she knew. An hour later, he wrapped up the night.

  “I want to thank Ross Turrow and Keenan Bliss for taking time out of their race schedule to work with the kids and show us their stuff.” He nodded at his former racing team friends and waited for the applause to die down. “I also want to thank all of the volunteers, especially my bro Connor for the spiritual guidance he’s provided the program, and my wife, Becca, for understanding the time commitment this past week has required. But most of all, I’d like a big hand for all of the racers who completed the program this summer.”

  Along with everyone else in the group, Renee rose and gave the kids a standing ovation. As she sat, she felt her bag slip off her seat and leaned down to retrieve it before it fell through the space between the benches. Someone said, “See everyone Sunday.” When she lifted her head, Rhys was already gone, mixing in with the crowd working its way down the bleachers.

  “So what’s with you and Tall, Dark and Intriguing?” Claire asked after they’d said goodbye to her friend Nick at his car.

  “Nothing. I told you, Pastor Connor has him working as a volunteer with me at the Bridges meetings.” Renee beelined Claire’s car.

  “Oooo,” Claire teased, following close behind. “Nothing more?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “I should hope not,” Andie said, stopping Renee steps short of the car.

  Renee spun around.

  “He seems nice enough,” Andie said. “And no one would question his good looks, if you like that type.”

  Renee relaxed at Andie’s qualifier. That was Andie.

  Andie shook her head. “I know you both think I’m overprotective.” She raised her hands Claire’s way before she could comment. “I’m not just talking about his criminal record. There’s something about him that says stand clear.”

  Renee fingered the strap of her bag while she waited for Claire to unlock the car. For once, Andie’s overprotective instincts might be called for.

  Chapter Six

  Rhys turned the key. The truck engine hesitated before it turned over. And died. He tried again and got only a clicking sound, and then nothing. He didn’t need this. Not after staying late to finish the job in Ticonderoga so the guy he was working with could leave to get to his daughter’s ball game.

  Rhys cranked it one more time and shoved his fingers through his hair. Even if the truck had started right away, he’d had barely enough time to get home, clean up and make the forty-five-minute drive to Elizabethtown for the Bridges’ behavior management training. No way would he make it on time now. He kicked the side of the console under the dashboard. If he made it at all.

  He should let someone know. Rhys pulled his phone from his pocket. Here’s another demerit, he couldn’t help but think. He’d already been a no-show at last Thursday’s Bridges meeting. Owen and Dylan had still been on vacation with the Hills, and his work team had an opportunity for some overtime. He’d emailed Renee the evening before, since he didn’t have her phone number. He wished email would work for today, too, so he could avoid the current of emotion he picked up when they talked. The evening at the races the week before last was a prime example.

  He threw off his seat belt and yanked his phone from his pocket. Better to get this over with.

  “Suzi, it’s Rhys,” he said when she answered.

  “Hey, are you calling to talk to Owen and Dylan about the field trip to the Adirondack Museum at Blue Mountain on Saturday? They’re jazzed about meeting ‘real’ mountain men.”

  Field trip? He had to work to cover his ignorance. “Meeting real mountain men? Who wouldn’t be jazzed? But I can’t talk with them right now. I’m in a crunch for time. Can you give me Renee’s cell number?” He explained the situation.

  “No problem.” She rattled off the number from memory.

  He scribbled it on his work pad. “Thanks. Tell Owen and Dylan I’ll see them Thursday.”

  “I will.”

  Rhys ended the call and punched in Renee’s number. It rang and he waited for her voice mail. This wouldn’t make him look like stellar father material. He was counting on his volunteer work with Bridges to serve as a positive when his custody hearing came up. Rhys held the phone in a viselike grip. He hated being judged on things beyond his control. The phone made an odd sound and continued to ring.

  “Hello, this is Renee Delacroix.”

  Rhys hesitated.

  “Hello?” Renee repeated.

  “It’s you,” Rhys said. “The way you answered, I thought I’d gotten your voice mail.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the strain from the workday. Smooth, Maddox. Real smooth. “I got your number from Suzi.”

  “Rhys?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t recognize your number and thought it was a work call.”

  He grabbed the opening. “It is. I’ve got that training tonight, and my truck won’t start. The alternator, most likely. I’m at a job site in Ticonderoga. I can probably get Pastor Connor to come pick me up and take me to get the part. But even if it’s an easy fix, there’s no way I can do that, get cleaned up and get to Elizabethtown for the training. Do y
ou have the instructor’s number?”

  “In fact, I do.” Renee rattled off a number.

  “But that’s...”

  “My phone number. The person who was supposed to teach tonight had a family emergency, and our boss called me to fill in.”

  Rhys drummed his fingers on the passenger seat. He wouldn’t have minded having Renee as the instructor. “All right. Then, as you heard, I’m not going to be able to make it.”

  “Okay, I’ll cancel and reschedule the training.”

  Because of one person? “That seems extreme.”

  “You were the class. You’re the only volunteer who hasn’t completed the training yet.” She paused. “Wait. You’re in Ticonderoga?”

  “On Montcalm Street.”

  “I could come and get you. I’m near there on my way to the office. I live in Ticonderoga. We can do the course at my place.”

  “I don’t want to put you out.” His truck would be fine here in the job parking lot until tomorrow if Pastor Connor picked him up. Then he could catch a ride into work with one of the guys and figure out what was wrong with it.

  “It’s not putting me out. We’ll get it done, and no one will have to drive to Elizabethtown another evening. The course is online. I have access to the Action Coalition’s server.”

  “I guess that’s fine with me.”

  “Claire will be here, too.”

  Rhys smiled. That was supposed to reassure him? “I’ll check with Pastor Connor to see if he can pick me up afterward and call you back.”

  “I could drive you home,” Renee said.

  “No. Helping me get the training out of the way is enough.” And wouldn’t put them in the close proximity of a half-hour car ride.

  “Fine. I’ll be here.”

  Rhys called Connor and arranged for a ride home after the training. He redialed Renee, and she answered immediately.

  “I’m set with Pastor Connor. He said to call when we’re done.”

  “Good. Exactly where are you on Montcalm?”

  Rhys gave her the street number. “I’m in the back parking lot.”

  “That’s practically around the corner. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

  “Okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Rhys got out of the pickup and locked the doors, for all it was worth—though probably nothing. He paced the parking lot. The heat of the day had started to fade and the cooler air on his T-shirt, still damp from work, made him all the more aware of his need to clean up. He’d have to ask Renee if he could do so at her house. All he needed was a little soap and water.

  Renee pulled in next to his truck and he walked over. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said she was only minutes away. He opened the passenger-side door and climbed in. The light floral scent he’d begun to think of as Renee’s infused the vehicle.

  “I appreciate this. I need to start looking for a more reliable vehicle—a king cab for when I have the boys. But the expense has me putting it off.”

  “I understand.”

  He looked at the pristine cream-colored dashboard of her late-model sedan. He doubted it. And why had he brought up his financial situation? It was pretty obvious.

  Rhys refrained from leaning back fully against the seat. “Ah, another favor? I should clean up before we do the training.”

  “That’s no problem.”

  Rhys stared out the passenger-side window. Did her quick response mean he smelled? Probably. He’d been working hard all day on the building roof and dusty crawl spaces under it. He sniffed, but all he got was that floral scent. He refocused his gaze on the dashboard and rearview mirror. No air freshener—it was definitely her.

  “And I’m guessing you haven’t eaten,” Renee said, turning onto a residential street.

  “No, have you?”

  She shook her head as she parked the car in front of a large Victorian home. “I was going to catch something on the way to Elizabethtown.”

  This is where I offer to get take-out. Rhys fingered the change in his pocket through the rough denim of his jeans. He didn’t have much more in his wallet. Since Owen and Dylan had been away last week and he hadn’t needed any extra money for them, he’d put nearly his whole paycheck into his truck savings fund.

  “Let’s see what Claire made. It was her turn to cook tonight, and she tends to cook like Mom—for nine people.” Renee turned the car off and grinned. “We do a lot of leftovers when it’s my night.”

  “Considering my cooking skills, your leftovers would trump whatever I’d be having for dinner.” He opened the car door.

  “No.” Renee laughed. “That would be our brother Marc. He’s a chef and part owner of a restaurant in New York City.”

  Rhys stepped out and closed the door, waiting for Renee to walk around the front of the car. “How many of you are there?”

  “There’s only one of me. You’ve met my three sisters. And Claire and I each have a twin brother. Marc is her twin and Paul is mine.”

  Rhys watched her approach him on the sidewalk and suppressed a smile. She was right. There was only one Renee Delacroix. And as intriguing as she could be at times, she was not his type—not by a long shot. They came from separate universes.

  * * *

  Renee pushed her sunglasses up on her head. It wasn’t an aberration caused by the dark lenses—the usually stone-faced Rhys Maddox wore an almost goofy expression on his face. “We can be formidable en masse,” she said.

  “What?” He blinked.

  “My family.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve met your parents at church.”

  He must be really hungry. Hungry enough to affect his attention span. She’d never seen him disoriented. They walked up the sidewalk to the house. She unlocked the door and tugged at the door handle, which was stuck.

  Rhys’s hand, warm and calloused, closed over hers on the handle.

  “It sticks in the humidity.” She slipped her hand from under his, avoiding his gaze and the uptick in her pulse rate.

  He pulled the door wide open, allowing her to step inside the small entryway ahead of him and catch a cleansing breath. Wow. All he’d done was help her open the door.

  “We live upstairs.” She climbed the steps, unable to shake the awareness of his large form following closely behind her. If they were going to work together with the Bridges group, she had to get used to being in close proximity to him on a regular basis.

  “All right, what did you forget?” Claire said in her big-sister voice as Renee opened the apartment door. Claire stopped when she noticed Rhys. “Oh, hi, Rhys.”

  “Claire.”

  Claire replaced her confused expression with a stern look at Renee. “I thought you were working tonight.”

  “I am. Rhys is the work,” Renee said, heat warming her cheeks before she even finished getting the words out.

  Claire grinned at Rhys. “And nice work when you can get it.”

  Rhys’s lips twitched. “Renee, you said I could clean up.”

  Chicken. He had an escape. She pointed down a hall. “First door to the right. There are clean towels and washcloths in the cabinet.”

  “And so?” Claire stood in front of her, hands at her waist.

  “Rhys called me to get the phone number of the person who was teaching the training tonight. He had truck trouble.”

  “He has your phone number?” Claire raised her eyebrows.

  Renee released a sigh. “He called Suzi for my number.”

  “And you’re here, instead of at the office, because...?”

  “Rhys was working at one of the office buildings on Montcalm. That’s where his truck is. I have access to the Action Coalition server on my laptop. That’s where the training module is. Rhys is the only one taking it tonight. It seemed silly to drive
all the way up to the office. Inquisition over?”

  Claire relented. “I guess.”

  “Besides,” Renee said, “here you can feed us. What have you got?”

  “A cold tuna-macaroni salad.” Claire looked thoughtful. “The ground beef I picked up on the way home is in the freezer, but not frozen yet. I can make burgers to go with the salad.”

  “I’m good with just the salad, but Rhys would probably like a burger,” Renee said. “Hey, do you still have any of those large Experimental Farm promotional T-shirts?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “One would probably fit Rhys. He could use a clean shirt. Can you get him one? I’ll put on the burgers.”

  “Are you trying to drive him away?”

  That thought had crossed her mind numerous times since she’d met the man, but not at the moment. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean your attempting to cook something that can’t be microwaved.”

  “I’m not that bad.”

  Claire raised her eyebrows.

  “Okay,” Renee said. “Where are the shirts?”

  “In the box on the floor of my closet.” Claire went into the kitchen, humming.

  And some people envy me and my large family. Renee took a shirt from the box in Claire’s room and walked up the hall to the bathroom. The sound of water running in the sink was clear through the door. She raised her hand to knock, swallowing twice to wet her dry throat before she did.

  “Yes?” Rhys’s voice was strained.

  “I have a clean T-shirt that should fit you. The experimental farm where Claire works gave the shirts away as a promotion. She had some left over.” Renee clamped her mouth shut. He didn’t need the shirt’s life story. “I’ll leave it here in the hall.”

  The door opened to reveal a freshly scrubbed Rhys, his damp hair combed back from his face, the towel over his shoulder. “No, I’ll take it. Thanks. I hated that I had to put this dirty one back on.”

  “Claire’s making hamburgers and stuff,” she said, her throat parched again.

  “I’ll change and be right there.”

  “The kitchen is through the living room.”