“Why not? The weather is stifling and it’s cool.” Claire twirled around. “Besides, the last time I wore it, Nick complimented me.”
Renee patted herself on the back for not rolling her eyes. “I’ll be quick.” She mentally inventoried what she might have clean.
“And take it easy on Andie,” Claire said. “With the kids, her classes, her job at the day-care center and helping Rob on the farm, she doesn’t get much time for herself.” Claire smoothed her skirt. “The last being one of the reasons you’ll never see me married to a dairy farmer.”
“I’ll be right back,” Renee said, laughing to herself as she climbed the stairs. She’d heard that pronouncement from Claire too many times to count. But at least Claire knew what she wanted—or didn’t want—in a man. After her disastrous romance in Haiti, reading too much into her relationship with a medic who’d failed to share that he’d had a fiancée stateside, Renee was uncertain whether she had the judgment to pick a good man from a bad one.
A picture of Rhys earlier today with his too often brooding eyes crinkling with laughter at some outrageous thing Emma had said flashed in Renee’s mind, juxtaposed over a picture of him at his wife’s funeral last spring with leg irons, flanked by two correctional officers, falling to his knees in grief. Her heart squeezed. She shook off the vision and transferred her thoughts to clothes. Her gaze moved to her open closet and her turquoise tie-dyed handkerchief dress. Rhys had never seen her in a dress. She walked over and touched the soft fabric.
“You almost ready?” Claire called up the stairs.
“Almost.” Renee dropped the fabric, spun back around to the dresser and pulled out a pair of cotton shorts and a plain pink T-shirt. With the dry weather they’d had this month, the track grounds would be dusty, so she put on her athletic shoes. She pulled her hair back into a high ponytail and reached for her mascara before pausing. Who did she need to put makeup on for? Certainly not Rhys, she answered herself as she bounded down the stairs.
Granted, he was attractive in that dangerous way that appealed to some women. That had never been her type. Besides, he was an ex-convict. They had nothing in common except his volunteering with Building Bridges, which he’d been half coerced into. She stopped and checked her appearance in the gilt-framed mirror at the bottom of the stairs. So why did she keep thinking about him?
Because, despite all that, she was drawn to him. Chalk it up to her flawed judgment when it came to men. Renee moistened her lips and grabbed her bag from where she’d dropped it earlier.
A little lip gloss couldn’t hurt.
* * *
The smell of gas and the roar of motors hit them when Renee and her sisters hopped out of Claire’s car in the racetrack parking lot forty-five minutes later. Renee’s empty stomach lurched at the fumes. Her first stop would be the refreshment stand. A nice juicy cheeseburger should hit the spot.
“I’m going to go get something to eat. How about you guys?”
“You should have eaten at home,” Andie said. “The stuff here will be greasy and overpriced.”
“And benefit the race program,” Renee said. Like Claire, she hated when Andie treated her as if she was one of her kids. Only it was worse for her, with the eldest/youngest dynamic thrown in.
“I want to see if Nick is here yet.” Claire glanced around the parking lot. “I texted him that we’re here, but you know how cell reception can be. Would you keep a lookout for his car on your way? He said he’d wait for us in the parking lot.”
“Sure thing.” Renee headed toward the concession stand, looking for Nick’s car and another familiar pickup.
By the time she reached the archway, she hadn’t seen either vehicle. For Claire’s sake, she hoped Nick hadn’t bowed out at the last minute. It wouldn’t be the first time. And for her own sake, her nerves could live without Rhys showing. As she approached the refreshment stand, the aroma of beef grilling overtook the petroleum fumes. Renee pressed her hand to her stomach as it growled in anticipation.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger, fries, Sprite and fried dough.”
“Confectionary sugar on the fried dough?” the woman behind the counter asked.
“Definitely.” Junk food, friends and a little fun and excitement. It sounded like just the prescription she needed for the stress of her busy week of training and work.
* * *
Kari Koch was a full-size version of her daughter Emma. She had an opinion on everything and was every bit as clingy. She’d just touched Rhys’s arm to make a point—for probably the third time. He eyed the dwindling empty spots farther down the bleacher row. It would be rude to get up and move.
He’d gotten to the track early and had sat in the section where Connor had told him the Twenty-/Thirtysomethings group would be sitting. A few minutes later Kari and another woman had plopped down beside him. She’d introduced them and then said he must be the new member of the group they’d heard about. Although she hadn’t been at the meeting he’d attended—he would have remembered—and he couldn’t recall seeing her at church, from the way Kari was leaning into him now, you’d think they were old friends. An itch like a line of ants crawled up his spine.
Rhys leaned into the space beside him, regretting his decision not to join Claire Delacroix when he’d arrived. He’d spotted her and a woman who looked so much like her and Renee that she had to be another sister, or at least a cousin, at the other end of the bleachers. Pastor Connor and most of the other people he knew from church were sitting with Claire now. The noise of the crowd blocked out every other word of Kari’s chatter.
Better yet, I should have stayed home.
He surveyed the people below and the kids warming up on the track sidelines before glancing past Kari to the woman on her other side. Mandy? Marcy? He couldn’t recall her name, but Kari had introduced her as a friend. She didn’t appear to have any problem with Kari focusing all of her attention on him. Rhys looked away before the woman or Kari caught his glance.
“Renee, up here,” he called, relief filling him when he spotted her juggling a drink and a cardboard tray of food. He patted the empty space next to him on the bleacher bench as if he’d been waiting for her. The way she stopped dead and the strained look on her face when she recognized him didn’t do anything for his spur-of-the-moment plan to detach himself from Kari.
Renee’s gaze darted to her sisters, but she continued up the aisle toward him. “Hi, Kari.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but he doubted Kari noticed, focused as she was on him. “Rhys.”
“Hi. I saved you a seat,” Rhys said.
When Renee made no move toward the space, the ants marched back down his spine. He fidgeted on the bench. How long did a motocross competition last?
“Oh, I thought I’d told you. Claire is saving us seats.”
He could have jumped up and hugged her, except, even with his sketchy social skills, he knew that would be inappropriate and would make Renee at least as uncomfortable as Kari was making him.
“Sorry.” He stood and edged by Kari, doing his best not to brush her knees. “Previous commitment.” He didn’t care if he sounded stiff. “It was nice meeting you.”
“I’m sure we’ll see each other around.” Kari’s voice flattened a notch.
“You’re a sanity saver,” he said when they were out of Kari’s earshot.
“You do owe me one for that.”
Was that a gloating glimmer in Renee’s eyes? As for owing her, he added it to his other debts.
A microphone crackled below. “Testing. Testing.”
“The races are going to start soon,” Renee said.
“I can carry the food or drink so we can hustle.”
She handed her drink to him and picked up her pace. “Now we’re even.”
Not really, but he’d accept it. He disliked being beholden to anyone.<
br />
“Renee, we were afraid you’d gotten lost,” Claire called when they got within sight of the church group. “Hi, Rhys.”
“Hey, everyone.” Rhys started toward an empty space on the other side of Pastor Connor and his pregnant wife, Natalie, away from the other Delacroix sisters.
Smiling, Connor and Natalie moved into that space, leaving room for two between Natalie and Claire. They couldn’t be thinking of him and Renee as a couple. He gritted his teeth. Connor had been kind of pushy about Owen and Dylan being in the Bridges program and him helping Renee at the meetings and events.
No. The only one thinking like that was him. Rhys gathered his errant wits. And the only team efforts he wanted were those that would help him get custody of his sons.
“Come on.” Renee motioned with her food tray.
“Sit down,” someone shouted from higher up in the stands.
Renee grabbed his elbow and pulled him to the bleacher where her family was sitting. She took the spot next to Natalie and he sat next to her. Engines roared below, sending a burst of adrenaline through him. It had to be the engines.
“Thanks. You want to try some of my fried dough?” Renee tore off a piece.
As if in answer, his stomach grumbled—but he wasn’t hungry. He’d already eaten.
“Go ahead,” the unidentified Delacroix to his left said. “Her eyes are always larger than her stomach.”
Renee frowned.
“No thanks,” he said, as the sweet, greasy aroma of her food mixed with the bikes’ exhaust fumes.
“Anyone else?” Renee asked.
Natalie accepted some. “I’m eating for two, you know.”
His stomach settled.
“I’m Andie Bissette,” the woman on his left introduced herself. “Renee’s sister.”
Ah, she must be the oldest sister. “Rhys Maddox.”
“I know.” She nodded. “You’re...” He braced himself for whatever she might say. “Dylan’s father. He’s one of my son Robbie’s friends.”
Rhys relaxed. “Yes, I met Robbie at the lake.” Did her eyes narrow? “A few weeks ago, Renee and Claire were there with him and Dylan.” Right, obviously the little boy wouldn’t have been there by himself.
“Renee’s birthday. I’d suggested a movie in Ticonderoga.”
Renee leaned toward him. “But the boys wanted to go swimming, and Claire and I really are old enough to watch Robbie swim.”
“Andie can be a little overprotective sometimes,” Claire added.
Renee made a choking sound.
He touched her arm. “Are you okay?”
Renee cleared her throat. “Fine.” She pulled her elbow closer in, and he dropped his hand to his lap.
Andie waved her sisters off. “They don’t know what it’s like to be a parent. You want to keep your kids safe and secure. Right?”
What could he say? He hadn’t kept Owen, Dylan or Gwen safe.
Andie went on. “Did you know that some of the kids racing are almost as young as Robbie and Dylan?”
“No, I didn’t.” Rhys hadn’t felt this much in the hot seat since his trial.
“Yes, the youngest are eight years old! I didn’t bring Robbie because I didn’t want him getting any ideas. I see you didn’t bring Dylan and his brother, either.” Andie nodded in agreement with herself.
He squirmed on the unforgiving bench. He didn’t want to get into the fact that he hadn’t had a choice.
“Andie. Dylan and Owen are going on vacation with the Hills tomorrow. Suzi and Jack want to get an early start,” Renee reminded her.
“Oh, I forgot,” Andie said.
Rhys focused on not clenching his fists and the boys and girls lining up their bikes at the starting line. Had Andie forgotten that the Hills were going on vacation, or was she purposely drawing attention to the fact that he didn’t have much of a say in what his sons did or where they went?
Renee touched his arm to get his attention, the same way Kari had kept doing. But Renee’s touch didn’t irritate him. She motioned with her index finger for him to lean closer. “We usually change the subject when Andie goes off on one of her supermom tangents.”
“I’ll remember that.” What Andie had said didn’t strike him as out of line. But what did he know about parenting? Gwen had been the responsible one with Owen and Dylan. He’d just played with his little guys.
“That’s what friends are for,” Renee said.
By the time Rhys recovered from the wrecking ball smashing his insides, Renee was talking with Natalie. He and Renee were friends?
Rhys ran his hand through his hair. This feeling that he was walking a tightrope without a net was why he stuck to his own business and didn’t socialize. The sooner he had Owen and Dylan with him and could concentrate on the three of them as a family, the better.
* * *
“Is everyone ready for some excitement?” Jared Donnelly asked the people in the stands from the announcer’s platform below.
“Yes!” Renee shouted back with the crowd.
“We’re going to start with the eight-to-ten-year-old division.” Jared explained what the kids had learned this summer and introduced the racers as he waited for two volunteers to check the kids’ bikes and helmet straps.
“Keep an eye on number nine,” Pastor Connor said.
“That’s Pastor Connor and Jared’s little sister, Hope.” Renee moved forward in her seat to get a better view of the mini course for the youngest competitors.
She turned her head toward Rhys when he didn’t say anything and visually traced his craggy profile from the long, inky eyelashes down his aquiline nose and over his firm lips to his square chin. He seemed to have pulled into himself, as she’d seen him do at CPS when she’d said something he didn’t agree with, or when she couldn’t directly answer a question.
“Hmm?” he asked when he realized she’d spoken to him.
“Number nine is Pastor Connor’s sister.”
“The one who’s in Owen’s class?” Rhys continued to look out over the track. “Owen was so jazzed about racing his car in the Pinewood Derby. He’d like to be here.”
“You did know that Jack and Suzi are taking Owen and Dylan with them to visit Boston?”
In a flash, Rhys switched his attention to her. “Yeah. I talked with my lawyer and Suzi about the possibility of them staying with me or Karen Hill. Suzi and Jack are celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary.”
Renee didn’t have to ask how that went, since as far as she knew, Rhys’s visits with Owen and Dylan were still CPS supervised.
“Ours—Gwen and mine—was this spring, before...”
The pain in his words slashed at her heart.
Rhys cleared his throat. “Do you know if any of Owen’s friends race?”
Renee grabbed onto the change of subject. “Not surprisingly, Jared’s three kids do. Ariana may be in Owen’s class, or a year behind. He’d know her from Sunday school. Ryan Hazard races. He’s Alex’s cousin and the same age. None of Neal’s three kids do. They’re more into fishing.”
Rhys lifted his eyebrow and the corners of his lips turned up.
“What?” Renee asked.
“Just wondering. Do you know all the kids at Schroon Lake Central?”
Renee laughed. “All the ones whose families belong to Hazardtown Community Church, and a lot more. Kids of my friends and my sisters’ and brothers’ friends. It’s no great feat. The whole school only has two hundred some students.”
“I had more than that in my graduating class.” His eyes lost the hint of humor she’d seen in them a moment ago. “My would-be graduating class.”
The loss of warmth in his eyes drew attention to the cooling night air. Renee hugged herself.
“Cold?” he asked.
<
br /> She unfolded her arms. “For a second. Things should warm up once the races start.” Renee looked to the track to see what the delay was. A volunteer was adjusting something on one of the kids’ motorcycles. “I should warn you that I was a cheerleader all four years of high school.”
He drew his mouth into a thin line.
Renee studied her nails. Why was she babbling about high school, of all things?
“Looks like we’re ready,” Jared announced. “As I said, this racing class will do two laps of the modified track.”
The starting gate dropped and number nine burst into an instant lead.
“Go, Hope!” Renee shouted, feeling Rhys’s gaze on her. “Hey, I warned you.” She shot to her feet to see the first jump better.
“So you did.” Rhys stood, and when Hope cleared the first jump, he called, “Go, Hope!”
Renee looked over her shoulder.
He grinned. “The only two friends Owen has mentioned to me are Alex and Hope. I think he may have a little thing for her.” Rhys wiggled his eyebrows.
Renee twisted the silver cross she wore on a chain around her neck. Like she was feeling a little thing for Owen’s father? She dropped the cross. No, the only thing she felt was unsettled every time Rhys did something warm that showed he had emotions—like teasing about Owen’s possible crush.
“Owen will have to get in line on that one. Hope can outrace, outrun and outplay most of the boys in her grade. They both envy and like her for her sportsmanship. She also won the third-grade math award last year, and I hear she’s never liked dolls.”
Rhys’s whistle above the noise of the crowd made her smile. “Quite a woman.”
His gaze caught and held hers until she refocused on Hope approaching the second jump. Had anyone around her heard that? Renee shifted her weight on the hard wood. They wouldn’t think he’d meant her? Renee dismissed it when Hope hit the jump off to the right and her bike wobbled on the landing. Renee and the other spectators gasped.
“See,” Andie said. “That’s what I meant.” She covered her eyes. “I can’t see her fall.”
Reuniting His Family Page 7
