“Josh, I think you’d better get out here! Fast!”
At the urgency in his brother’s voice, Josh jumped out of bed. The remote clattered to the hardwood floor, but he ignored it as he hurried into the kitchen to find his brother standing in a pair of pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt, looking stunned. Through the wide front window, Josh could tell that something in the drive was on fire.
“What the hell is that?” he cried.
“Your Excursion,” his brother answered, his voice full of awe.
“That ball of fire is my ride?” Running for the door, Josh charged into the cold night air to find his brand-new Ford Excursion engulfed in flames. Torn between dashing forward to save what was left and turning away because he couldn’t bear the sight, he finally sank onto the porch steps, too shocked to do anything. “Not my Excursion,” he said. “Not my new SUV.”
“I’m calling the fire department,” Mike said, a cordless phone pressed to his ear. “Start hosing it down.”
Josh resisted the little shove his brother gave him. For all he knew, the Excursion was about to explode. And it was too late, anyway. Even if it didn’t explode, by the time they extinguished the flames, the vehicle would be nothing more than a charred wreck.
“I searched for that truck for months,” he complained aloud, even though Mike was now talking to the fire department and wasn’t able to respond. “It was in cherry condition: custom rims, tan leather interior, every upgrade in the book….”
Mike hung up and went for the garden hose. But he didn’t dare get close enough to do any good. When he realized he was wasting his time, he turned off the water, stomped back to the house and sat next to Josh. Together they stared in silent wonder at the fiery spectacle.
“Think it was kids?” Mike asked at last.
They could hear the shrill siren of a fire truck in the distance. Josh wrinkled his nose at the acrid smell of the smoke billowing into the black sky above them and rubbed his bare arms against the cold, which he was just beginning to feel. “We’ve never had any trouble with kids, not way the heck out here. And what reason would they have to destroy my SUV and not your truck? You’re parked even closer to the road.”
“But if it wasn’t kids,” Mike said, “who did it?”
Josh couldn’t imagine. Who would purposely single out his vehicle and burn it to the ground? Who would—
Realization dawned suddenly and, once it did, he knew there could be no mistake. Who would single him out? The same girl who’d tormented him since he was eight years old. Rebecca Wells. He’d called Buddy, and this was her revenge.
He shook his head, unable to believe she’d go so far. So what if he’d told her fiancé a few of the juicier details from her past? Did she think she could hide her true nature from him forever? He might have slanted his stories a bit, but she didn’t have to torch his Excursion.
Briefly, he thought of calling Ned Parks at the sheriff’s office to file a complaint. Destruction of private property. That would cause Rebecca some serious problems, some well-deserved problems.
But even as he watched his Excursion burn, in his heart Josh knew he’d never make that call. The war that raged between him and Rebecca had gone on a long time. They’d both done some pretty stupid things, but they’d never ratted on each other to anyone in authority. In the first place, he had no proof that she was the one who set the fire. He couldn’t call and tell Ned to arrest the mayor’s daughter simply because she was the only person who’d ever had it in for him.
Besides, if he brought Ned into the mess, she’d tell everyone that he’d tried to sabotage her marriage. Buddy might back her up, and then Mary would want to know why he cared enough to involve himself at all. He’d have to deny that he cared about Rebecca, pretend that ache he sensed inside her didn’t bother him. And…
Dammit! Why’d his family ever have to move into the house across the street from Rebecca Wells?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
REBECCA STUDIED BOOKER over her coffee cup. It was well past midnight, but she still wasn’t ready to head home. “So what are your plans?” she asked so she wouldn’t have to think about her own. At this point, she wasn’t sure whether she and Buddy would ever get married, and envisioning herself living with Hatty for an indefinite period of time wasn’t cheering her.
He shrugged. “Finish painting the garage.”
“And after that?”
“I’m sure Granny will have something else for me to do.”
“You can’t work for her forever. You’re going to have to get a job eventually, aren’t you?”
“Eventually.” He leaned back as Judy came around to fill his cup.
“What kind of job would you like?” she asked.
“I’d like my own repair shop someday. I’m pretty good with engines. I was about to buy out the place where I worked in Milwaukee, but—” He shrugged.
“What?” Rebecca pressed.
“Granny said she wasn’t feeling well and—” he grinned “—I fell for it.”
“Somehow I get the impression you don’t mind.”
“She’s getting old. Someone needs to look after her.”
“What about your parents?”
“They’re too busy with their own lives.”
So Booker had postponed his dreams and come to Dundee to do the job. Rebecca had no doubt that would surprise a few people—like her father. “That’s why you’re so patient with her. You want to be doing what you’re doing.”
He didn’t say anything.
“And when she dies, will you go back to Milwaukee?” Rebecca asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll open a shop right here. There’s only Lionel and his son doing auto repair, and they don’t know shit.”
“Where’d you learn so much?”
He set his cup in its saucer and leaned back, leveling his gaze at her. “In prison.”
Rebecca toyed with the handle of her cup. “I’ve wondered about that,” she said. “What did you do?”
The bell went off over the door, and Rebecca looked up to see Greta’s husband, Randy, step into the diner, along with Jeffrey Stevens, the second of Dundee’s two firefighters. Their faces were streaked with sweat, and they were both wearing a good bit of their firefighting regalia, but she didn’t want to hear about the latest brush fire.