The Promise of Rayne Page 28

  Rayne stared out the passenger-side window, her fingers tangled into a worried knot on her lap.

  “Hey.” He reached across the console and squeezed her knee. “Whatever happens, okay?”

  The tense smile that touched her lips mirrored his own, yet even still, she covered his hand and repeated the words they’d spoken nearly every hour since dawn. “Whatever happens.”

  Ford’s turn signal flashed through the obtrusive haze. Like a desert mirage, the marshal’s truck appeared in the gravel turnout a quarter mile out from the Shelby-Winslow property line. The smoke had settled below the treetops, hanging low enough to obscure the nature around them, and too dense to make out any structure beyond where they stood to meet.

  Rayne’s white-knuckled grip tightened on the door handle as a shiny black Mercedes came into focus on their left.

  “Cal’s here,” she announced.

  “I figured he’d demand a private consultation with the marshal.” The words were sandpaper to his teeth. As much as he needed an update on the farm, the sudden desire to flip a U-turn pressed against his protective instincts. He forced the gearshift into park and regarded his passenger. “What do you want to do, Rayne?”

  “What we came here to do.” She popped open her door, not an ounce of hesitancy in her voice.

  Once outside the truck, she slipped her hand into his and together they crunched across the loose terrain. Ford stood near the marshal while Cal paced in a fog patch nearby, his back to them all, a phone pressed to his ear. Levi searched for signs of the two other property holders in the area but found none.

  “Where are the others?” Rayne asked.

  His shrug was uncomfortably stiff. “Not sure.”

  “Levi.” Ford’s subtle gesture to approach made his gut bottom out. What did he know?

  “Thank you for meeting with us today, Marshal Harris,” Levi said as he shook the weathered hand of the county fire marshal and introduced Rayne, though she hardly needed an introduction. Marshal Harris seemed plenty well acquainted with the Shelby family. The man flicked an annoyed glare toward Cal’s back and then glanced at his watch for what was apparently not the first time.

  “Mr. Shelby,” Marshal Harris boomed. “We need to get started here.”

  Rayne gripped Levi’s hand as if to obtain strength from their unity. He squeezed back, wishing they could communicate through Morse code.

  Cal swiveled on his heels and his shaded scowl slipped the instant he spied his niece—or rather, the instant he spied his niece’s hand clutched in Levi’s. Without a word, Cal plucked the phone away from his ear, tapped the screen, and stuffed the device inside the breast pocket of his suit coat.

  “What’s the report, Harris?” Cal demanded with no further acknowledgment of their existence.

  No acknowledgment of his brother’s existence.

  “Shouldn’t we wait for the Gourleys and the Kellers?” The sweet sound of Rayne’s voice at his side tempered Levi’s heightened irritability.

  Marshal Harris set his gaze on Rayne. “We did everything we could, but the winds were too high. We weren’t able to regain control on that side of the river until it was too late.”

  “And whose call was it to pull the ground crews out last night, Harris?” Cal’s finger slashed through the polluted air like an aimless dagger. “If I lost so much as a shingle on my lodge, you can bet I’ll be heading up a full investigation.”

  “It was my call.” Harris’s words issued a challenge.

  Levi glanced at Ford before taking the reins. “Have you taken inventory of all the properties on this side of the river?”

  The tension in the man’s face held strong for another three seconds before he managed to shift his attention to Levi. “Yes. I have.”

  Whether Rayne’s grip tightened in his or his in hers, he couldn’t be sure. Whatever the case, they were in this. Together. Whatever happens.

  Harris faced them, his gaze ticking from face to face like the second hand of a wall clock. “I called you here to personally commend and compliment the man responsible for digging the fire line along the old logging road. It not only preserved both properties on this side of the river, but it reinforced our efforts, which conserved resources and manpower. The water-suppression system he engineered to pump water into the fire line and wet the vegetation was better than anything I could have built myself. Using the river was ingenious.” His revolution halted on Ford.

  And though no words were exchanged, the conversation inside Levi’s head was as clear as the river that belted Ramsey Highway.

  All those extra trips off property with the tractor and backhoe.

  All those random sketches and blueprint equations on Ford’s desk.

  All those bags of pipeline and irrigation materials in the warehouse.

  All of it finally made sense.

  Ford had been digging a fire line.

  Every possible explanation for what Marshal Harris described contradicted the world Rayne had grown up in for the last eighteen years. A world where neighbors passed without acknowledgment of one another. A world where friendly mailbox meetings and cordial waves were obsolete. A world where there’d been no knocks at the door to borrow sugar, no front porch conversations, no contact whatsoever.

  And yet . . .

  “Please,” she said, looking from the marshal to Ford, her voice hoarse and rough. “Explain.”

  The fireman thumped Ford’s shoulder. “What I’m saying, Miss Shelby, is that that freshly dug fire line behind your property”—he cut his gaze to her uncle—“is the only reason why Shelby Lodge is still standing.”

  Less than twenty-four hours ago, she’d labeled Ford Winslow an enemy; now she labeled him a hero.

  The concept of mercy had eluded her since childhood. Like a slippery substance she couldn’t quite grasp, she’d struggled to accept why an all-knowing God would sacrifice himself for the souls of faulty people. People who strayed, people who doubted, people who didn’t deserve a second chance.

  People just like her.

  The Shelbys had taken everything from Ford—a family that should have loved him, supported him, and cherished him. Instead, he’d been rejected, threatened, and disowned. And despite what her family deserved, Ford hadn’t left their lodge to burn.

  He’d been the one to save it.

  For the first time in her life, the mystery of mercy had been unveiled.

  She tasted the salt of her tears as she lifted her gaze to Cal, hoping this act of unmerited compassion would thaw the ice around his heart. Unfortunately, it wasn’t gratitude she saw reflected in his eyes.

  “I want to see it for myself.” Her uncle’s concrete tone scraped against her insides.

  The marshal’s hand slipped from Ford’s shoulder. “See what for yourself, Mr. Shelby?”

  “The lodge!” Cal pounded a fist to his chest. “My lodge!”

  “The wind may have calmed, but it will be at least another twelve hours before we can safely reopen Ramsey Highway, unless, of course, God decides to give us some rain—”

  “If you want to send the sheriff to arrest me, then send him, and while you’re at it, remind him that he owes me a hundred bucks for dinner last night.”

  The stare down lasted only a few seconds, the marshal’s face darkening by three shades. “I’ll allow you thirty minutes but not a second more. I’ll be waiting at the end of your driveway to escort you back to the blockade. Don’t test me.”

  Her uncle bolted to his black sedan without a backward glance.

  And something like static buzzed inside Rayne’s chest, an unsettled tension that couldn’t be ignored.

  “I have to talk to him,” she said, her words two steps ahead of her sanity.

  Levi’s incredulous gaze swept her face. “What? Why?”

  “Because I need to.” She couldn’t explain it to him; she couldn’t even explain it to herself. “Will you drop me at the lodge, please?”

  At the sound of tires kicking up loose gravel
in the turnabout, Levi threw out an arm, gesturing toward Cal’s erratic exit.

  “That man has done nothing but lie to you and manipulate you . . . he’s a coward. He’ll never own his part in this, Rayne. What good could possibly come from you talking with him?”

  She rubbed her thumb over the back of Levi’s hand, the vulnerability in his voice twisting at her heart. She’d planted the seed for his insecurity. She’d chosen Cal and the lodge over him time and time again.

  But not this time.

  “I’m asking you to trust me, Levi.”

  Though he said nothing, the fear of her corruptibility still lurked in his eyes.

  Ford drew closer, his gait as steady as his gaze. “Let her go, son.”

  “That man wouldn’t even look at you, Ford, much less thank you for what you did for him.” The raw quality in Levi’s voice pricked her throat.

  “I don’t need to be thanked.” Ford placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “Love isn’t measured by what we gain. It’s measured by how much we give away.”

  Levi released a tension-filled sigh and looked from Ford to Rayne. “You’re sure about this?”

  The anxiety in her chest eased. “I’m sure.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Rayne padded across the deserted lobby, her footsteps cutting through a silence as eerie as the smoke outside. Her uncle’s office sat vacant. So did the Great Room, the parlor, and the stairwell.

  Cal wasn’t anywhere to be found on the main floor.

  She skimmed her fingertips along the barren wall of family history, no frames or portraits to warm the familiar space today. Instead, the stark hallway was a cold contradiction to her memory and, quite possibly, a true reflection of reality.

  Empty.

  On her second pass through the kitchen, her eyes were drawn to the window, to the silhouette of a man bent over the cedar railing of a wraparound porch. His gaze seemed transfixed on a horizon he couldn’t possibly see—or perhaps, on a fire line much too distant, even on the clearest of days.

  He didn’t turn in her direction when the door creaked open; he simply spoke to the air in front of him. “This lodge is all I have left of my father.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d heard Cal mention her grandfather, but it was the first time she’d heard something close to sorrow in his voice.

  The rapid thud in her chest fueled her courage and her compassion. “It would have been very hard to lose it.”

  He didn’t respond.

  She inched closer. “I can only imagine how painful Granddaddy’s confession must have been for you.”

  He clenched his jaw and continued to stare out at the shapeless scenery.

  “All those years the two of you were estranged . . . and then he confirmed your biggest fear just days before he died.”

  “You don’t know anything.” A halfhearted statement encased in denial.

  “I know our family doesn’t have to remain divided over Granddaddy’s secret.”

  “Yes.” The word slithered off his tongue. “We do.”

  “He’s your brother, Cal.”

  “I have one brother!” He slammed his hand onto the railing, the vibration rattling the planked boards beneath her feet. “And anything that man told you is prosecutable!”

  “Ford didn’t tell me.” A testament she would cling to. She’d been the one to speak the words, not him. “I just finally opened my eyes to what I’d been too blind to see.”

  “So that’s your position, then?”

  “Truth isn’t a position.”

  “Do not preach to me about truth.”

  In the light of so many lies—her grandfather’s, her father’s, her own—how couldn’t he see that truth was the only way to peace? To freedom?

  “What exactly do you intend to do with this knowledge, Rayne? What is it you want?”

  “Nothing.”

  A two-beat laugh. “Everybody wants something.”

  “I didn’t come to fight with you.”

  “So why did you come?” His russet eyes narrowed. “The lodge?”

  Two words that had measured her value and worth for far too long. The only place she’d ever felt wanted or needed or accepted. The only place she’d ever known approval. The only place she’d ever called home. But when she’d walked those desolate hallways only moments ago, she’d finally seen the lodge for what it was—a building with no pulse, no breath, no life.

  Somewhere along the way she’d confused legacy with love. And position with purpose.

  She prayed she’d never make that mistake again.

  “No,” she said. “I’m here to tell you that I won’t lie for you or for my father. I won’t keep your secrets and I won’t deny the truth.”

  “Only a selfish brat would turn her back on her own family.”

  “And yet, you’ve turned your back on your brother time and time again. You’ve kept our entire extended family in the dark, spoon-fed us lies about how Ford weaseled his way into the will, stole our inheritance, and robbed our grandfather. You defamed his character and then encouraged us to do the same, all so you wouldn’t have to own your shame.”

  “Your father’s political image hasn’t remained spotless by chance. Everything I’ve done is to protect him and to secure the future of our family name!”

  How could anyone be so relentless in their denial? “Ford’s the one who kept your lodge from burning to the ground!”

  Cal’s chest heaved as he shifted his stance. “If you choose him, you’ll be making a grave mistake.”

  “What mistake is that? The same one Milton Shelby made by questioning your ethics? I used to pity him. I used to fear his fate. But now I fear yours. Now, I pity you.” The swell of emotion inside her shook her voice as she thought of Delia and Celeste and Ford. “There won’t be a family left for you to secure if you don’t own up to your mistakes. If you don’t stop lying.”

  A tear streaked down her cheek. Am I crying? She touched her face and felt another drop swipe across her forearm, carried on a wind gust. She tilted her chin skyward and stretched her palm into the open air. Two more drops in the span of three short seconds.

  Rain.

  Despite her uncle’s scowl, a smile stretched across her face as she slipped down the uncovered porch steps onto the thirsty grass.

  “He won’t ever be one of us,” Cal said. But the fear she heard in his voice revealed that he knew the opposite was true. Ford was already one of them. His influence had stretched beyond power, wealth, and fame. And more importantly, beyond Cal’s control.

  Ford had refused to allow Cal’s hatred to corrode his soul. He’d refused to allow bitterness to corrupt his character. He’d refused to allow anger to taint his compassion.

  And he’d chosen to forgive his enemies and to love them too.

  A misty breeze rushed over her, sending goose bumps down her spine and a whispered reminder to her heart: the same choices awaited her now.

  “I’m not taking sides. I’m choosing our family—even the part you don’t want to acknowledge.”

  Cal froze at her declaration, his back rigid and tense. Saying nothing more, he shoved through the back entrance and disappeared into the vacant lodge. And unlike every interaction she could recall with her uncle in the past, the shame of failed expectations never came.

  The drizzle of moments before intensified, and her pace quickened as she maneuvered through the Shelby grassland toward the farm. In only a matter of minutes, the weighty atmosphere had thinned, sharpening her senses to the world around her. The lenses on her glasses became smeared and sweaty, and she plucked them from her face. Her vision blurred, but her eyes didn’t need to see the path ahead. Not when her heart had memorized the way.

  She wove past familiar pine trees and thorn bushes, and much the way she’d done a dozen plus times this summer, she slipped through the slats of the fence.

  A soaked Levi was waiting for her on the other side.

  Precipitation poured from the heavens, her hai
r was as drenched as her dark cotton shirt, but the sight of him was as refreshing as the rain on their dehydrated valley. Without a word, he wrapped her in a hug and buried his face in the hollow of her neck. “Are you okay?”

  How could she possibly explain it? “I’m so much more than okay.”

  He pulled back, a shadow of disbelief in his eyes. “And Cal?”

  She reached up and touched his damp face, droplets of water balancing on the ends of his lash line. “I can’t control the choices he’ll make. I can only control mine. And I need to forgive him. The same way Ford did.”

  Levi smoothed a hand over her rain-showered hair. “I used to think Ford was some kind of superhuman anomaly. That the way he saw people, the way he loved people, couldn’t possibly be matched. And then I met you.”

  She rubbed her thumbs along the day-old stubble of his jaw. “But Levi, you were the one who helped me see what I couldn’t see before.” Her lips trembled. “That I could be loved just as I am.”

  His arms encircled her waist and he pulled her close, speaking against her lips in a caress she wanted to taste. “You’ve always been enough, Rayne. Way before you ever met me.”

  His words resonated deep within her, exposing another kind of truth, one God had planted long ago. One she’d only just discovered.

  Levi pressed his lips to hers, the taste of tears and rain mingling in their kiss. She could live here. In this moment. Forever.

  His mouth curved into a smile as the downpour increased. She tipped her face skyward again, closed her eyes, and . . . and the most absurd thought struck her. For the first time in her life she had absolutely no clue what came next.

  “What?” he asked over the hard plinking and pattering all around them.

  A bit dumbstruck at the realization, she shook her head. “It’s just, I’m homeless. And jobless. And—”

  Levi kissed each of her cheeks and then the tip of her nose. “You’re going to be just fine. This is your opportunity, Rayne. To take what’s in your heart and bring it to life. And I have no doubt you will do just that.” He inclined his head toward the large barn behind him—a barn befitting so many of the community events she’d outlined.