Reuniting His Family

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Reuniting His Family Page 13

by Jean C. Gordon


  “Yep.” That was one of his requirements when he’d bought the vehicle, a bench seat or an extended cab with a back seat like Jack Hill had.

  Once they’d transferred Dylan’s seat, Suzi said goodbye and left. Much to Rhys’s relief, her leaving caused only a slight lip quiver from Dylan.

  “We’ll see Mrs. Hill Sunday at church,” Rhys reassured him.

  “And Grandma Hill will be at Kids Place when you start on Monday,” Renee said.

  Rhys smiled his thanks to Renee over Dylan’s head. Monday, he and the boys would get a regular routine going. That would be good for all of them. He only needed to make it until then without any surprises.

  * * *

  From her parked car, Renee watched Owen and Dylan tumble out of Rhys’s truck and scramble to Jack’s pickup sitting in the driveway of Rhys’s house. They pointed at their things in the truck bed and shouted to their dad. Rhys followed. She gave them a minute to blow off some steam. At the Social Services’ office, all three of them had hummed with a combination of excitement and apprehension. Owen was more talkative than usual, while Dylan was quieter and more thoughtful. As for Rhys, if she had to guess, she’d say he was a man putting up a strong front. She pulled the car door handle. Time to bring in some reinforcements.

  “The bike on top is mine,” Dylan said as he climbed onto the bumper of Jack’s truck.

  A look of sadness seemed to pass over Rhys’s face. Then it was gone.

  “Hold on,” Rhys said, lifting Dylan down onto the driveway. “Let Mr. Hill open the tailgate.”

  Jack pulled the tailgate down. “I know you’ve got two strong guys here to help you, but things are slow at the shop if you want me to stick around and help you after we unload.”

  Rhys’s lips thinned.

  Renee resisted stomping over to the truck. He wasn’t going to refuse the help because he took care of his own, was he?

  He broke into a smile. “We’d appreciate that. As Owen was telling me, they have a lot of stuff.” Rhys reached for Dylan’s bike.

  “Miss Renee, are you going to help us?” Dylan asked when she joined them. “Mr. Hill is.”

  “I thought I would. I could use the exercise.” She sensed Rhys’s gaze on her and tugged the band holding her hair up in a ponytail tighter.

  “Looks like you may be getting more exercise than you thought.” Jack shoved his phone into his back pocket. “Dad just texted me that he got a tow call. I’m on duty until his shoulder heals. Mom won’t let him drive the wrecker until she hears the okay from Dad’s doctor. I’ll help you unload.” He and Rhys vaulted into the back of the truck.

  “Owen and Dylan, Mr. Hill and I will hand the stuff to you and Miss Renee,” Rhys said. “Put it on the grass out of the way so Mr. Hill can pull out when we’re done.”

  “I’ll take the heavy stuff for Miss Renee,” Owen said.

  Rhys cocked a grin. “Oh, I think Miss Renee can handle the heavy stuff.”

  Her pulse leaped. She focused on the truck taillight. It was just an offhand compliment.

  “And some of the heavier things will take two people,” Rhys said.

  “O-kay,” Owen said.

  Rhys handed Dylan’s bike to her and Owen. Dylan took it from them and rolled it over to the grass. When she turned back to the truck, Jack was ready to pass off Owen’s bike.

  “See? Teamwork,” Rhys said, his gaze lingering on her face.

  Renee felt suddenly warm, beyond what she could attribute to her light exertion. But they were a team, part of the Bridges team. That’s why she was here—as part of her job. Renee inched over to the side of the truck Jack was unloading, reasoning that the bikes looked like the only big, two-person items, and they could finish quicker if she worked with Jack and Owen worked with his dad.

  A short time later Rhys jumped down from the truck and Jack handed him a large box labeled Books and Toys. Rhys heaved it onto his shoulder. “I’ll take this right in, and then we can bring in the other stuff. Thanks for everything, Jack.”

  “No problem.”

  As Rhys headed to the side door of the garage, Jack approached Owen and Dylan. “Good work,” Jack said, shaking each of their little hands. “Now you be good for your dad, and I’ll see you at church.”

  Owen and Dylan nodded solemnly.

  Rhys returned in time to wave Jack off. Had he purposely given his sons and Jack this time alone? A month ago, she wouldn’t have thought it of him. Today she was pretty sure he had.

  He eyed the random collection of things on the lawn. “Let’s get this stuff inside. I’m getting hungry for lunch.”

  “Me, too,” Dylan said.

  “That’s because he only ate half of the cereal Mrs. Hill made him for breakfast,” Owen reported.

  Rhys’s eyes clouded.

  She silently sympathized with him. He had to have expected that both boys would have some apprehension about leaving the Hills’, as she was sure Rhys did about having custody. “All the more reason to get this stuff inside so we can have lunch,” she said.

  “You guys take your bikes to the garage.” Rhys had left the side door open. “Put them along the right side by the house.”

  “That’s this side.” Owen raised his right hand.

  “I know that,” Dylan said. “Can we ride them, Dad?”

  “The lawn’s kind of bumpy, but sure.”

  They hopped on their bikes and pedaled to the garage.

  “I’ll grab the backpacks,” Renee said.

  “Hmm?” Rhys turned from watching Owen and Dylan hop off their bikes at the garage door.

  She lifted the backpacks.

  “Yes, thanks.” He heaved both of the boys’ duffel bags over his shoulder. “It seems like I’m saying that a lot these days.”

  “It’s okay to be thankful and to let others help.” Renee wasn’t sure if the crooked smile he gave her was an agreement or not.

  Owen and Dylan met them halfway to the house. “We’ll get the other stuff.”

  “Don’t go by the road,” Rhys called after them.

  “We know.”

  Rhys pushed open the door from the garage to the kitchen. “The problem is that I don’t know what they know.”

  “You will soon enough,” Renee said.

  “I’m sure I will.” He dropped the duffels to the floor. “If you want to take the packs up, their room is the one on the right at the top of the stairs. Through the living room.” He pointed to the living room. “I’m going to make sure we got everything.”

  Renee stopped at the doorway to the living room. The gleaming pine floor was gorgeous, far too beautiful for a summer rental place that the house had been in recent years. The wood looked so recently refinished that she wondered if Rhys had done it. As she passed through the sparsely furnished room, she took in the sturdy, functional couch and well-worn recliner tilted to face the small flat-screen TV sitting on a wooden file cabinet.

  The room was devoid of decorations save a picture of a younger Rhys with a toddler-aged Owen on his lap and an attractive blonde woman beside him, holding an infant Dylan. A paperback legal thriller lay tossed on one of the wooden side tables.

  Definitely a man’s room. And the room at the top of the equally beautiful wooden staircase was a little boy’s dream. She smiled at the care Rhys had taken with it. But she’d come to expect no less from him than putting his sons’ comfort before his own. Renee dropped the backpacks on the plush area rug between the twin beds and turned to go back downstairs. A rush of boys blocked her way into the hall.

  “I beat you.” Owen barreled in ahead of Dylan and came to a dead stop. “The cars on the bed look just like your old Charger, Dad—like my Pinewood Derby car.”

  Dylan pushed by his older brother and headed straight to the dinosaur-decorated bookcase. �
�Tyrannosaurus Rex. Miss Renee, I have a book about dinosaurs. Tyrannosaurus Rex is my favorite. And all my books will fit. I won’t have to keep some in a box like I did at Mrs. Hill’s.”

  While the boys’ excitement filled the room to overflowing, it was dwarfed by the look of love on Rhys’s face. Renee melted. Who would have guessed Rhys Maddox had that depth of feelings inside him? He placed the duffel bags beside the backpacks. His soft expression smoothed the sharp planes of his face and made him look more like the younger family man from the picture in his living room.

  Her heart constricted. The man he was before his life had fallen apart.

  Renee caught herself. Rhys wasn’t blameless in that downfall. But as if a weight was lifted from her shoulders, she could fully accept that he’d moved beyond that life.

  Rhys cleared his throat. “You guys pick which side of the room you want and start putting your clothes away.” He pointed at two matching dressers by each of the beds. “I’ll go get the box of books and toys.” He ducked out of the room.

  As if by silent agreement, Owen and Dylan chose the beds closest to their duffel bags.

  “Miss Renee, can you help me open this?” Dylan asked after struggling with the zipper on his duffel.

  “Sure.” She bent and pulled the bag open. Her phone barked.

  “What’s that?” Dylan asked.

  “My sister calling me.” Claire had become so obsessed with finding their perfect dog that Renee had changed her ringtone to a barking dog.

  “Hi, what’s up?” Renee answered.

  “Are you still at Rhys’s house?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “We need that dog house sooner rather than later,” Claire said. “I have our dog. A beautiful year-old Australian shepherd. My coworker’s sister is moving and can’t take the dog with her. Ask Rhys if he’s free tomorrow to come over and work on the doghouse. I’ll text you a picture of Precious. That’s the dog.” Claire clicked off and Renee waited for the text.

  Renee and the two boys were huddled around her phone when Rhys returned.

  “Dad,” Owen said. “Miss Renee and her sister are getting a dog and she needs us to come and build a doghouse for it tomorrow. Can we get a dog, too?”

  Renee straightened, knowing it was no use to even try to cover the blush that colored her cheeks. “I was going to ask when you’d be free to build the doghouse.”

  Rhys glanced from Owen to Dylan with a look that almost seemed to be one of relief. “Tomorrow is fine. Have you and Claire chosen a design?”

  “Yes.” She grinned. She was as excited about getting the dog as Claire. Or was it partly something else? She pushed away the idea that some of her feelings might be about Rhys coming over to build the doghouse. “We checked the plans you recommended online and like the ‘Standard.’”

  “Good choice.”

  She wasn’t even going to try to figure out why his nice words made her insides bubble.

  “Dad,” Owen asked again. “Can we get a dog?”

  “Yeah, can we?” Dylan echoed.

  “We’ll see. But first you have to get moved in.” Rhys motioned to the boys’ belongings and they went right to work.

  “And I’d better get back to the office,” Renee said.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Rhys said.

  By the time they reached the steps into the garage, the silence between her and Rhys had gotten to be too much. “I certainly can give today a good report,” she said.

  “We’re a report?” Rhys asked, sounding less than pleased.

  Renee stumbled on the bottom step and he grabbed her elbow to stop her from falling. She was simply making conversation. There was no report. Why had she said that? That was one of the things she liked about her work with Building Bridges—she didn’t have to write reports that had the power to upend Rhys’s or any of her other Bridges’ families’ lives.

  “No.” She forced a cheery lilt into her voice. “But if you were a report, it would be a good one.” She cringed before she looked over her shoulder for Rhys’s reaction and caught his intense gaze. And blushed again at the totally inappropriate thought that filled her mind.

  What it would be like to have Rhys Maddox kiss her?

  Chapter Ten

  “Is that a new top?” Claire asked, pouring herself a cup of the coffee Renee had put on when she’d come downstairs for breakfast a few minutes ago.

  Claire made a show of sniffing the air. “And perfume?”

  “Yes, the top is new and no to perfume. I used a new hair conditioner.” Renee eyed Claire’s cut-off jeans and oversize T-shirt. “There’s nothing wrong with looking nice on weekends.”

  “Especially when a hunky man is coming over for the day.”

  “Rhys will be outside building your doghouse. I have things to do inside.”

  “So you admit Rhys is attractive.”

  “I have eyes. Even Meme thinks Rhys is attractive.” Renee poured some Grape Nuts into her bowl of yogurt and stirred it.

  “Meme. That’s your backup? She’s French and admires all things of beauty.” Claire laughed and stuck her head in the refrigerator. “Apparently those things you have to do include serving someone a steak dinner—a sirloin steak dinner.”

  Renee crunched down a spoonful of her cereal. “He did say he’d take his payment in home-cooked meals.”

  “I hope you bought enough steak.” Claire popped an English muffin into the toaster and sat at the table with Renee. “Paul’s coming to help, too.”

  The morning sunshine seemed to leave the kitchen. “You asked Paul to come over?” Renee ground her back molars. “To protect me?”

  Claire scrunched her face. “What do you mean?”

  Protect little Renee from herself. “Nothing.” She was being childish. With her twin, Paul, so busy with the farm, it had been too long since they’d gotten together, except for coffee hour after church. Renee washed her cereal bowl and spoon and put them in the dish drainer. “I’ll run out and get another steak.”

  “I can do that,” Claire said. “Rhys will be here any time.”

  As if that was a major concern for her. But, uncomfortably, it was. Despite what she’d said to Claire, why else would she have taken so much care with her clothes and appearance on a Saturday morning? “No, thanks. Since you and Paul will be doing the cooking, I figure getting the food is my responsibility. Can you think of anything else I should pick up?”

  “Do you have something for dessert?”

  “I thought Owen and Dylan would like to go to the soft-serve stand on Paradox Lake for ice cream cones.”

  “Good idea, like Mom and Dad used to take us as kids after we helped Dad finish evening chores.”

  “Yeah, we always liked it. I’ll be back in a half hour or so.”

  Renee gave herself a pep talk on the way down the stairs. She should be thankful that her twin was coming to help Rhys. The doghouse would go up twice as fast, and she probably wouldn’t have to help at all with the construction. She could take care of those inside chores she’d told Claire she needed to do, whatever they might be.

  When she returned, Rhys’s and Paul’s trucks were parked in front of the triplex, and laughter and conversation drifted out from the backyard as she walked around the side of the house.

  Her nephew Robbie ran over to open the gate for her. “Hi, Aunt Renee. Uncle Paul brought me so I can help build your doghouse.”

  She waited while his little fingers worked the latch then made sure it clicked closed behind her. “So I see.”

  “Me and Dylan and Owen helped Uncle Paul and Mr. Maddox carry the lumber from his truck.”

  “With all you strong men, you must have made short work of that.”

  “You’re silly, Aunt Renee. Only Uncle Paul and Mr. Maddox are men.”r />
  Her nephew’s correction pulled her attention to Rhys in his sleeveless athletic shirt and cut-off jeans, with a red bandanna tied around his forehead as a sweatband. There was no denying he was all man.

  “Hey, Renee,” Paul called. “I saw there was work to do and wondered where you were hiding.”

  “At the grocery store, getting another steak for you. I can take it back.” Renee made to turn around. “Better yet, I’m putting you in charge of grilling the steaks.”

  “Beats trusting you with that, baby sister,” Paul shot back.

  Renee caught Rhys frowning at Paul. Was he defending her? She shook off that thought. Rhys was a self-sufficient guy, and she knew from her work at Social Services that he didn’t have any siblings. Good-natured family bickering might be foreign to him. Or maybe he was impatient to get the work done.

  “Don’t mind Paul,” she said. “We sisters have done the best we could with him.”

  Rhys schooled his face into a blank slate. She’d expected a smile or something. Renee tightened her grip on the plastic grocery bags. Why would Rhys feel he had to defend her against Paul? She had to get her imagination under control.

  But the unanswered question was why she craved Rhys’s defense.

  For the next couple of hours Renee kept herself busy inside, marinating the steaks, cleaning, doing laundry, anything to stay inside and avoid Rhys until she got over whatever her problem was with him today. She needed to get back into their Building Bridges’ mentor/volunteer mode they’d been in yesterday at his house before...

  A little after one o’clock, Owen charged up the back stairway while she was putting the finishing touches on a tossed salad to go with the steaks. She’d run out of anything else to do inside. The guys had worked through lunchtime, telling Claire they were close to being finished when she’d offered to make sandwiches to tide them over until the barbecue.

  “Miss Renee,” Owen said, “your brother says it’s time to put the steaks on. The doghouse is almost done. Dad is putting the shingles on the roof. You’ve gotta come see it. Your dog is going to love it.”

 

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