height and extended his hand. “It’s nice meeting you, Malcolm.” The child took his hand.
“Me, too,” the child said, as a hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Angela glanced at Lee. The last time she saw him was at her husband’s funeral, and the first thing she’d noticed was his gaunt appearance. When she’d asked him if he had been sick he’d admitted he’d just completed the requirements to become an army ranger, and had lost nearly forty pounds during the extremely intense sixty-one-day combat leadership course. It was apparent he had not only regained the weight but had also developed a lot of muscle, as evidenced by the bulging biceps in the rolled-up sleeves of his fatigues.
Lee was tall, standing six-three, and his striking good looks turned heads whenever he entered a room. The genes he had inherited from his mixed-race African American-and-Cherokee father and white mother had given him a light brown complexion, raven-black wavy hair and blue-gray eyes. The girls at their high school had labeled him tall, dark and dangerous—his good looks, combined with his father’s criminal reputation, made him seem particularly lethal in the eyes of their parents, who warned them to stay away from him. Like father, like son, she’d heard people say.
But she’d known firsthand that Lee would never dabble in drugs—he’d witnessed how it had nearly destroyed his family. Even when a lot of boys were smoking marijuana, drinking or popping pills, Lee was always an outsider, and she didn’t know if it had something to do with his father’s drug addiction.
He now stood straight, and her eyes met his as she recalled his question if he’d changed much. At first glance Angela would’ve said he hadn’t. But upon a closer look she saw things that hadn’t been apparent during their last encounter. There was a network of fine lines around his eyes, and the stubble on his lean face, with its high cheekbones and sharp features, enhanced his overt masculinity. His hair grazed his jawline, and at the age of thirty, there was no hint of boyishness left in her friend.
“Where’s your daughter?” Lee asked.
“Zoe is inside with Lee’s mother. Malcolm and I have a dental appointment.”
Lee inclined his head. “I’m not going to keep you. Whenever you’re free, give me a call so we can catch up.”
Angela nodded. There was so much she wanted to tell Lee about the things that had happened since they last saw each other. The year before she’d been hired as the receptionist at a local medical clinic and then promoted to office manager. “Once you’re settled in, I’d like you and your sister to come by for Sunday dinner one of these days. I don’t know if Vivi told you, but I sold my house and moved in with my mother-in-law a couple of months before the twins were born.”
He shook his head and smiled. “No, she didn’t. I’m not going anywhere for a while, so I’m really looking forward to getting together.”
Angela returned his smile with a bright one of her own. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to get going or I’ll be late for our appointment.” She paused. “I’m glad you’re home.”
A beat passed before Lee said, “Me, too.”
Lee watched as Angela settled Malcolm in a car seat in the second row of the late-model minivan. It may have been years since their last encounter, but time hadn’t changed how he felt about his best friend’s widow. He’d just celebrated his fifteenth birthday when he first entertained romantic feelings about the girl who told him she loved him like a brother. However, his thoughts about her were anything but brotherly, and he made certain never to cross the line to act on his fantasies. Now, fast-forward more than a decade, Lee realized his feelings for Angela hadn’t changed. He still liked her for more than friendship. There were countless times when he cursed his reticence to let her know how he felt, once Justin confessed that he and Angela had slept together two weeks before their high school graduation. And this revelation told him she was lost to him forever. Although they’d promised to stay in touch with one another, he, Justin and Angela took different paths. Lee had immersed himself in all things military. Justin had concentrated on a pre-med curriculum at college, while Angela had taken the world of high fashion modeling by storm.
Their paths did not cross whenever he returned to The Falls for family business. The only contact was an occasional email or instant message with a cursory update as to what was going on in their lives. Lee was shocked when Justin told him he’d dropped out of med school to join the Corps. When he questioned his friend about not following his dream to become a doctor, Justin had said going into medicine had been his mother’s wish.
Lee pulled his thoughts back to the present as he clamped his teeth together and watched the taillights of Angela’s vehicle turn the corner and disappear. He silently berated himself for not staying more closely connected to the two people who hadn’t judged him because he was Emory Remington’s boy.
To the men in his unit he was known as Sergeant Remington or “Wolf,” but to those in Wickham Falls he was a descendant of the infamous Wolfes who at one time owned most of the coal mines in Johnson County and were notorious for the exploitation of their workers. Although many of the mines had been closed for more than thirty years, Lee could not escape the stigma attached to his family’s name. And despite having married a Remington, his mother had continued the family tradition that male descendants who did not carry Wolfe as their surname would have it as a middle name.
Lee exhaled an audible breath. Well, he was back in Wickham Falls, not for a few days or even a week, but close to a year. He would take the time allowed him before reenlisting to rejoin his fellow rangers.
Five minutes later, Lee turned into the driveway leading to The Falls House. For years it had been known as Wolfe Hall, but when it went from being a family residence to a boardinghouse his Aunt Babs changed the name. The century-old structure, designed in the architectural style of the antebellum South, bore noticeable signs of disrepair. Several shutters had come loose from their fastenings, and what had been touted as the finest residence in Johnson County appeared to be an eyesore to Lee. Although the ten-bedroom, twelve-bath mansion was constructed during the Victorian period, Hiram Wolfe’s new bride had insisted it resemble her ancestral home in Beaufort, South Carolina.
Lee parked near two carriage houses turned guesthouses that also needed fresh coats of white paint. Repairs weren’t at the top of his to-do list, though sitting down with his sister—to ascertain how much money she needed to hold on to the property—was.
Getting out of the car and walking around to the front of the three-story dwelling, Lee rang the doorbell. The keys to the house were in his backpack. He didn’t have to wait long for the door to open. The smile parting his lips faded quickly when he saw firsthand the effects of the strain of his sister’s current ordeal. There were dark circles under large toffee-colored eyes, and her tawny face was a lot slimmer, almost emaciated, surrounded by a cloud of black curls falling to narrow shoulders.
He extended his arms and wasn’t disappointed when she came into his embrace. Lee rested his chin on the top of her head as she cried without making a sound; he massaged her back in a comforting gesture and waited for her to compose herself.
“You came.” Viviana sniffled against his chest.
Lee smiled. “I promised you I’d come.”
Leaning back, she stared up at him. Looking at his sister brought back memories of when they’d stood outside their mother’s bedroom comforting each other after the doctor informed them that Annette Remington had passed away in her sleep. Even though he had been told that his mother was terminally ill, Lee at nine had not understood or believed she wouldn’t
