Beauty and the Brit (5 page)

“Please, Rio, please, let’s go. I can’t stand this anymore.” Bonnie’s tear-tracked cheeks and wild eyes conveyed her fear.

“Sweetie, I know.” Rio cupped her sister’s face with her hands. “But I can’t leave and not be sure they’re doing all they can. We could take you across the street to the Hansons’. Look, they’re in the front yard. I’m sure they’d let you sleep on their sofa.”

“No! They’re nice, but their house . . . is—” At the word “house” she covered her face.

“Why don’t you take Bonnie back to Crossroads?” David turned to Rio. “I can stay here if you’d be all right with that.”

“It’s not necessary. I don’t want to make you stay.”

The thought of remaining alone with David, but without Chase as a buffer, slightly terrified her. Yet the thought of David leaving left her stomach hollow. She didn’t really want to face the firefighters, the police, and the flames on her own.

“You aren’t making me do anything. We don’t need to know each other that well for me to act as another set of ears and eyes.”

Again his smile was kind and unforced. He was right about two things. One, they didn’t know each other at all. Two, at this point it didn’t matter. Nothing worse could happen to her.

“All right, thank you,” she made herself say. “Bonnie, it’s fine if you go with Chase. I understand why you don’t want to watch.”

Bonnie considered a minute and then nodded.

A weight lifted from Rio’s chest. Bonnie, at least, would be in good hands. If the staff at Crossroads had a strength, it was providing a safe environment for kids.

For a long, silent moment they all stared back at the house. Flames lit the windows of Rio’s bedroom and the living room, turning them into fiery eyes, malevolent and cruel. Firefighters with axes crawled over the half of the roof not engulfed in flames. Smoke hissed from high-pressure water meeting tenacious fire.

“You’ll stay at the center tonight,” Chase said, finally. “Don’t worry about any other plans yet. After the fire is out, we’ll think about the future. You know we’ll help, right?”

“I do know, Chase.”

He and Bonnie left, and the only way Rio could make the watching tolerable was to study the firefighters, who moved through the disaster scene in choreographed precision. Their instructions were terse and efficient, their movements were never wasted, and all their efforts were immediately effective. Not a single one of those attributes applied to her life.

“Are you cold? Can I fetch you a blanket or find a sweater?” David asked, when their silence had stretched to several long minutes. “I can run somewhere quickly and get you something hot to drink.”

She turned her attention to him, even though meeting his eyes after her crying jag was one step from humiliating. He wore a plain white undershirt, disheveled as if from sleeping in it, and to her mortification, a starburst of wrinkles surrounding a damp spot on his chest made it clear where she’d fallen apart in his embrace.

“I’m fine.” Her voice came out tight although she didn’t intend it. “I’m not going to lose it again. You really don’t need to babysit me.”

“Bloody lucky,” he replied, his voice light. “I’m nobody’s idea of a good nanny. I’ve just never seen a house fire in person before, and it’s terrifying. I have no idea what you must be going through. When in doubt, a good Englishman always rings for tea.”

A reluctant smile found its way onto her lips. “Tea and a sweater. Probably the best offer I’ll get any time soon, but I’m fine.”

“You’re sure you aren’t cold?”

She shook her head. The air temperature hadn’t even registered with her. “I’m sure.”

“All right. But don’t be brave on my account.”

They held their vigil for another half hour. She grew accustomed to his presence, even pointed out when she noticed the flames had stopped chewing through the roof and when more firemen took time for short breaks because they seemed to be making headway. She stayed close to him, although she didn’t want him to know it was mostly because he kept her mind from panic and her body warm without a blanket.

“Miss Montoya?”

Rio looked away from the scene at her blackened front door where a fireman was emerging from the now-dark house. She met the eyes of a square-jawed, sixty-ish man who’d introduced himself much earlier as the captain.

“Yes?”

“I thought you’d be interested to know what we found along the side of the house, half-buried beside the foundation.”

He held up an ancient-looking metal gas can with a melted plastic spout. He might as well have parked one of his trucks on her chest. David swept an arm across her back, just as her knees turned to soup.

“Steady, love.”

She grasped his arm automatically. “That’s proof, isn’t it?” Her voice croaked from her constricted chest. “Somebody did this.”

“We can’t say anything for certain yet,” the captain said. “There’ll be further investigation. But if you don’t normally keep a gas can next to your house, I’d say this points strongly toward arson.”

“He’s gone completely crazy.” Rio stared at the embers of her house.

“Who has?” David asked.

“Hector Black. He’s a puny little leader of a small, mean street clique. They can’t even truly be called a gang. This, along with what he tried to do to Bonnie, is beyond his usual scope. It’s like he’s trying to get noticed.”

“The authorities will sort this, Rio. Try not to worry.” David looked helplessly toward the captain, who nodded.

“Worry? What more can happen to worry about? I’m pissed as hell.”

He drew back, his dark eyes surprised. “Well, I’m proud of you, then, aren’t I?”

“Proud?”

“You haven’t been one to curl up and whimper. I’m not sure how you’re doing it.”

Rio wasn’t either. Most of her was numb. Her chest hurt. But what choice did she have? What choice had she ever had other than to fight on? It still annoyed her that she’d broken down in front of him at all.

Before she had to form a response, the phone she’d hastily stuffed into the waistband of her sleep shorts vibrated next to her skin. She pulled it out, stared into its outdated, not-smart screen, and saw the indication for a new text. Her heart thundered.

“It’s Paul,” she whispered, and opened the message. But when she read it, it confused her—it didn’t sound like her brother.

So the can surprised you. Hope you know the doctor can’t keep Bonnie away from me.

She swiveled her head wildly. Whoever it was, was watching. He knew she’d just seen the gas can. He knew Bonnie wasn’t here.

“What is it?” David searched with her. She handed him the phone, her throat too tight to speak. “Your brother is here?” He dropped his arm from her shoulders and all but leaped into the street, his eyes, narrowed and alert, sweeping the neighborhood. There was nothing.

“I don’t believe he’d do this to his own house. I don’t.”

But the message had come from his phone.

Rio’s strength finally deserted her. She never in a million years would have thought Paul capable of such an awful crime. Or of such hatred of her. They were only half siblings, but they’d been there for each other all their lives. And he had always adored Bonnie, his full sister. Rio couldn’t fathom what had changed. She clutched her churning stomach.

“Rio? Rio, come on. We need to get you to someplace warm and safe. You can’t find answers until you have some place to think. The fire is nearly out. Let me take you back to Bonnie and Chase.”

There was nothing to do but obey. Now her life did feel as though it had ended. A house was just a thing. Safety, however, was right up there with health. If you didn’t have it, you couldn’t live. Until this moment, the only thing that had kept them all safe was their status as family. As much as it seemed impossible beyond words, Paul had just destroyed that.

She buried her face in David’s T-shirt once again and let helplessness steal the last of her pride.

Chapter Four

R
IO STOPPED PICKING
at the fraying hem of her jeans and stared out the windshield at a long, tree-and-pasture-lined driveway. Pristine brown fencing surrounded jewel-green fields, and the glossy horses dotting them should have had her in ecstasy. Instead, only the numbness of the past five days ruled her emotions.

Jill Preston guided her Suburban across an actual bridge over an actual stream and approached a fancy wooden sign painted with black-and-gold lettering. “Bridge Creek Stables.” Rio couldn’t quite reconcile the surroundings with her expectations. If this was where David lived, it was a very far cry from the horse farm-slash-dude-ranch she’d pictured.

Bonnie, on the other hand, had oohed and ahhed the entire way from Minneapolis to Kennison Falls. Any memories haunting her from the week since the fire were invisible at the moment. In fact, the girl had been frighteningly ditzy since that night, swinging from inconsolable weeping to manic excitement.

Rio hadn’t cried since embarrassing herself in David Pitts-Matherson’s arms. She could have. She’d had plenty of time for nightmares. But her crying wouldn’t make Bonnie feel safer or solve the countless issues facing them. So she’d dug in and channeled her terror into problem-solving, as she always did.

Jill caught her eyes, and Rio managed to return the encouraging smile with a polite one of her own. She didn’t speak. All she had strength to do was ride this crazy train she’d been forced onto until the conductor kicked her off. Unfortunately she wasn’t sure their current destination was the right or smart one.

Chase had immediately found a group shelter home for her and Bonnie, and Rio would rather have stayed there, kept her job, and searched out a new place to live. But cryptic, semi-threatening messages from Paul’s phone had continued and eventually found them at the supposedly safe place.
We know you both are at Rose House. You can’t hide from us.

After Chase talked to the police, insisting the girls had to get out of the city until the gang’s anger cooled, he’d offered his home in Kennison Falls as a safe place. Jill would be there as a buffer, and it was nearly two hours from Hector. Rio had agreed, reluctantly, for Bonnie.

But yesterday the plans had changed again. Chase and Jill lived in an old farmhouse, and several water pipes had unexpectedly burst. It wouldn’t be a quick fix, he’d reported sadly. Even he and Jill would be staying elsewhere while large sections of the house’s aged plumbing got replaced. David, however, could save the day. He had a huge home and had more than willingly offered it.

David.

No matter how much Rio wished she did, she had no other options, especially since she hadn’t told anyone the whole story. When the fire had taken away their house, Bonnie had dismissed it. “We have insurance,” she’d said. “We’ll just move earlier than we planned.”

Rio had spent the entire week while at the shelter trying to make that hope a reality, but the reality was, there was no future out West anymore. No dreams even for after high school. The house had not been insured.

Jill pulled up in front of a mansion. Rio forced the lump in her throat downward where it couldn’t choke her. She hadn’t seen David since the fire. She dreaded seeing him now—still sensitive to how many of her fractured emotions he’d seen. She clearly remembered his offhanded offer of assistance should they ever need it—an offer she was certain he’d never expected to be honoring.

Surprise.

“You’re sure he’s ready for us?” Rio couldn’t think of anything more intelligent to ask.

This man had to be wealthy beyond her fantasies. Three of her little houses would have fit inside the two-story white dream home wrapped with a porch and decorated with gables and scrollwork.

Jill nodded firmly. “He’s looking forward to having you. As you can see, the house is plenty big enough.”

No shit, Sherlock
, Rio thought a little unkindly.

“This is where we’re staying?” Bonnie scooted across the backseat to press her face against the window. “Ohmygosh.”

“I’m really sorry you couldn’t stay with us,” Jill said. “I’d have loved having you. But this house is nearly a hundred years old, and wait’ll you see it. It was in pretty rough shape when David bought this farm ten years ago. He spent the first four years fixing up the outside so it would look good for his business. Then he started inside. It’s very, very nice; you’ll be comfortable here.”

Bonnie pushed her door open and stared like Alice arriving in Wonderland. “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

It probably was. Bonnie had never been out of Minneapolis.

“It’s
very
temporary,” Rio reminded her. “So remember we’re guests.”

“At least it isn’t a depressing safe house prison.” Bonnie hopped out of the car. “And Hector won’t find us.”

It was worth being here just to have Bonnie free of Hector. Rio steeled her heart and repeated her warning to herself. This was not a home. It was charity. Charity she intended to repay.

A warm breeze caressed her face when she stepped from the car, as if true August had awaited them here in the country while the city shivered in unseasonable coolness. Turning in place, she took in the surroundings. Fifty yards from the house, the driveway opened into a large yard connecting a complex of buildings. A neat white-and-green barn stood closest, and she assumed the tan metal-sided building that dwarfed it was a riding arena. As she admired the flower beds, the tidy lawns, and the grove of shade trees in which they stood, two riders led horses out of the barn door.

“Look!” Bonnie pointed.

A trickle of disappointment slid through Rio’s stomach. Neither rider wore jeans or cowboy boots, the cowgirl uniform she’d dreamed of owning, along with her own horse, since she’d been a kid. Neither of these horses wore a big, cow-roping saddle. There wasn’t a Stetson in sight. Instead, the two girls wore form-fitting breeches with inner knee patches and prissy black helmets.

“You’ll find this is a busy place.” Jill stood beside her. “Never a dull moment in the barn and arenas, but the house stays pretty private, so you’ll be fine there.”

Rio simply stared.

“Everything all right? You look a little shell-shocked.” Jill touched Rio’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. It must be overwhelming.”