Faith by Fire (Prodigal Brothers MC Book 1)

by Rose Macwaters

  He kissed the top of her head. “What on earth is going on? One of the reasons your mother and I loved raising you here was how safe we thought you’d be. You made it through childhood pretty unscathed, I think, but now?” He shook his head and Charlie studied his face from the side. The hair at his temples had begun to salt and pepper over the last few years, and one dime-sized patch of his beard had completely broken rank to shine a brilliant white amidst the dark brown hair. He caught her looking at him, and the wrinkles around his eyes deepened as he smiled.

  “You going to be okay?”

  She closed her eyes. “Yes. Of course.” She smiled without opening her eyes. “I’m alive. That’s good enough for the rest of the afternoon, I think. Maybe for the whole weekend.”

  Her father chuckled, his shoulder vibrating under her head. “I’d say so. By the way, if you want to move back into the house for a while, just until the sheriff gets whatever this is all sorted out, we’d love to have you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll think about it, but I feel safe enough in my own space for now. We don’t really know what’s going on yet, do we? Like, these things could be totally unrelated, just bizarre random events, right?”

  Her father chuckled again. “Could be, but I’m not taking any chances, and I’d rather you didn’t either, honey.”

  She nodded without lifting her head from his shoulder. “Got it. No chance taking. Napping is okay, though. Right?”

  Her father stood and reached down to give her a hand up. “I’d go so far as to say napping is recommended. Under the circumstances.”

  “Excellent.”

  He carried her book bag inside for her and set it on the tiny kitchen table. He then pulled her into a hug and whispered a quick prayer for protection as he held her tight. Charlie went up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek before stepping back with a yawn.

  “I kind of feel like the van actually did hit me. Will you tell Mama that I’m lying down for a while?”

  “She’s out visiting your Aunt Bertrude on the farm, but I’ll tell her about all this once she’s back. There’s no cell signal to speak of out there, you know.”

  Charlie nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

  She waited until the sound of his boots clomping up the back steps of the main house reached her ears before locking her door, turning out all the lights, and burrowing deep into her bed in the semi-darkness. She felt like she could sleep for a week, but the rest of the weekend would just have to do.

  Chapter 5

  “Agh!”

  Charlie grimaced beneath the layer of flour now dusting her face and the front of her polka-dotted “Kiss me, I’m Sweet” apron. She wiped her cheek with the back of one hand just as her mom came sweeping back into the kitchen and laughed at the sight of her grown daughter frowning and covered in flour.

  “Oh, no! What happened?”

  “It exploded.”

  “What exploded?”

  “The bag of flour.” Charlie accepted the damp kitchen towel her mom held out to her and began carefully swiping the layer of flour from her face and neck. She was helping her mom cook for a fundraiser in support of a halfway house and addiction rehabilitation ministry their church sponsored. It’d been a while since she’d baked anything, and she was…rusty.

  Charlie shook her head with a wry smile while her mom continued laughing softly, her back turned as she dug in the fridge for more butter. “Hey, chuckles—could you come stir the sauce? I don’t want it to scorch.”

  Her mom set two more pounds of butter on the counter to soften, amusement still lighting her face.

  “Sure.” She carefully stirred the deep stew pot of homemade tomato sauce. “Have you set the water to boil for your lasagna noodles yet?”

  Charlie shook her head. “No, I got the kind that doesn’t need to be boiled first.” She finished scooping generous lumps of cookie dough onto a sheet tray and shooed her mom out of the way so she could slide it into the waiting oven. “I figured we’re making so many dishes that eliminating that step would help. I’ll just increase the sauce in each layer by a half cup to allow for more to be lost in baking.”

  “Oh, perfect. Okay, you take over here—” Her mom handed her the handle of the long wooden spoon, careful not to splatter the hot tomato sauce. “And I’ll get started on the roux for the mac and cheese.”

  She hit a button on the kitchen radio as she went by and “Hit Me with Your Best Shot” began playing. Her mom danced around the kitchen as she cooked, giving Charlie a little hip bump every time she came close enough. Charlie smiled again. She’d missed this. It’d been a long time since they’d cooked together. She’d been in no shape to help the previous two Thanksgiving and Christmases, and had missed Easter entirely by traveling to see some old school friends a few states away.

  Charlie hummed along, tapping her feet to the music. They shared an abiding love for 80s power pop and had been inseparably close before it happened. Sorrow rushed through her, dousing her enjoyment and bringing tears to her eyes. She dabbed at her eyes with the back of her wrist and angled her body away, hoping her mom wouldn’t notice. It hurt so much. Still. She blindly scooped more cookie dough onto a tray, blinking to clear her eyes enough to not burn herself when she swapped the trays, setting the hot one on the kitchen island to cool.

  “It’s okay, honey.”

  Her mom’s soft voice, her gentle hand rubbing Charlie’s back, brought fresh tears. “I’m sorry, Mama. I—”

  “It’s okay. He brought you a lot of joy. It makes sense that certain feelings would remind you of him.” She leaned her head against Charlie’s. “Please don’t let that keep you from being happy, my sweet girl. Even if the happy makes you sad at first.”

  Charlie just nodded, the lump in her throat blocking her voice. She knew her mom was right. Being happy made her sad. But it was an improvement to feel good at all, so she’d have to try to let that be okay. Somehow.

  “I’m so glad you felt like helping me today.” Her mom gave her one more squeeze before going back to her cheese sauce. “It’s been too long since we did something like this together.” She paused, her body still except for the steady motion of her hands as she added a splash of milk and stirred the simmering sauce. “And I wanted to apologize about the other day. I felt like I pushed you too much about that man. The one who helped you when you were attacked. I’m sorry, Charlotte.”

  Charlie laid out three large aluminum casserole pans on the island and gathered the rest of her ingredients. “It’s okay, Mama. I know you mean well, I just…” She grabbed two cartons of ricotta out of the fridge. “I know you want me to move on and be happy, and I’m not saying I won’t. I’m sure at some point I will. But that point is not now.” She moved the pot of tomato sauce over to the island and rested it on a clean kitchen towel. “I’m not looking to date anyone. And that man? Logan? We know absolutely nothing about him, other than he stopped a bad thing when he saw it. That’s it.” She grated the parmesan aggressively. “He has tattoos. And rides a motorcycle. He is exactly what you would have warned me away from in high school. The dangerous bad boy biker.”

  Her mom laughed lightly but didn’t respond, her hands full with pouring drained macaroni into the cheese sauce and stirring until it was all coated.

  Charlotte continued, “I mean, he could be a criminal. We don’t know! Frank definitely already knew him.”

  Her mom transferred the macaroni and cheese into another aluminum casserole dish and set it aside. “Frank also definitely already knew you, and you’re not a criminal.”

  “I also don’t have tattoos and a motorcycle!”

  Her mom held both hands up in surrender. “I concede, daughter of mine! I am not trying to set you up with him! But God put you two together for a reason, and I’m looking forward to seeing what that reason is, that’s all. Also, what have I taught you about judging a book by its cover?”

  “…Do it?”

  “Charlotte Grace!”

  Charlie was just pulling the la
st pan of lasagna out of the oven when the doorbell rang, followed almost immediately by several loud knocks.

  “Could you get that, honey? It’ll be the men to pick up the food. I’m almost finished here.” Her mom cut more cucumber chunks and tossed them into the salad she was making.

  Charlie eased her still-bubbling casserole down into a shallow box, then brushed her hands down the front of her floured and stained apron. “Sure. No problem.”

  She padded down the long hallway from the kitchen to the front entry, the hardwood floor cool beneath her bare feet. Brushing stray hairs out of her face with one hand, she opened the door with the other.

  A group of men stood waiting, just as her mom had predicted. But they were not the khaki- and polo-clad church members that Charlie had expected. She froze, her eyes sweeping over them. Six in total, they spread out into the grass of the lawn, collectively too large for the small front porch. Dark jeans, heavy boots, matching black t-shirts with “Prodigal Brothers” emblazoned across the front. Several had worn leather vests on over their shirts, covered in patches and symbols Charlie didn’t recognize. The man in front smiled at her as she stood in the doorway, unmoving.

  “You must be Lucy’s daughter Charlotte. I’m glad to finally meet ya!” He was older than her dad, and bigger, with a grey beard, several earrings, and an array of time-faded tattoos. He extended his hand. “I’m Doc. The Brothers and I are here to fetch the food for the fundraiser. Are we too early?”

  Charlie shook his hand, the skin leathered and rough, but he clasped her hand gently. “Uh, no. No, you’re right on time. Nice to meet you, Doc. Sorry to be such a mess…we’re just finishing up.” She stepped back out of the doorway. “Y’all come on in. The kitchen is just down that hallway.”

  As the rest of the men filed past her, they each paused to nod at her with a polite, “Ma’am.” She tried to smile but wasn’t sure she succeeded. After the last one headed down the hall, Charlie stuck her head out the front door. Half expecting a fleet of motorcycles to be lined up in the front lawn, instead she found two big black SUVs with the same “Prodigal Brothers” emblem on the sides. Hm.

  A loud burst of laughter carried down the hall, and Charlie retreated back inside, closing the front door. Just as she turned away, however, she heard the tell-tale rumble of a motorcycle, followed by the sound of boots clomping up the porch steps. She opened the door before he could knock, her gut already sure who it was.

  Logan.

  Surprise flashed across his face, followed by a half smile. “Hey.” His voice was even lower than she remembered.

  “Hi.”

  “Full disclosure, I did know this was your parents’ house, but I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  She swallowed. “Yeah, uh…I’m just here helping my mom with the food. I live in the carriage house out back.” Don’t tell the scary man where you live, idiot! “Which I probably shouldn’t have told you, since you still very much might possibly be stalking me.”

  His grin widened as he leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, hands in his pockets. “Hey, I’m here on Doc’s orders, I swear. You can ask him.”

  She thought about the library parking lot, him knocking her out of the way, his arm protecting her head as she fell. Her eyes flicked over him. A long purplish red scrape ran down his right arm from elbow to wrist. That could’ve been her face. Another round of laughter from the kitchen jolted Charlie back to reality. She opened the door wider to let him in.

  “Sorry. Come in. Everyone’s just in the kitchen, through there.”

  He filled the doorway as he stepped through, and she looked up at him as he moved past. She was either terrified or comforted by his presence, and she wasn’t entirely sure which.

  Both. Definitely both.

  Chapter 6

  When Charlotte re-entered the kitchen, Logan watched her with amusement. She was more flour than woman, splattered head to toe with evidence of her efforts in the kitchen. Soft strands of hair rebelled around her face, falling free from her ponytail to curl along her temples, her neck. He dragged his attention back to Lucy Woodland. At his approach, Charlotte’s mother reached out for him, and he leaned down to give her a hug.

  “Thank you for saving our girl. You protected her when we couldn’t.” She kissed his cheek as he pulled away, patting his shoulder with one hand and wiping at tears with the other. “And I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

  Logan stood quietly as she thanked him and tried to hide his discomfort. He simply nodded and met Doc’s eyes over her head. These were good people. God-fearing and law-abiding. Even now, with his sins forgiven and his life dedicated to guiding others to that same forgiveness, he found it more than a little painful to be around people like this. Good Christian folk. Would she even allow him in her home if she knew what he’d done? Would she trust him this way? Or would she instead warn him away from her family, just in case? Away from her daughter?

  He glanced over to see Charlotte still standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her apron. She was wary of them. Fair enough. They were rough men. On the outside, anyway. He cleared his throat.

  “This all smells great. Thank you again—” He tried to catch Charlotte’s eye. “—Both of you. This means a lot.”

  “Amen to that!” Doc clapped his hands together. “Put us to work, and we’ll get out of your hair! What goes out first?”

  Lucy Woodland sniffled again, and Liam reached into a back pocket to produce a pristine white handkerchief, which he offered to her. He was English. Only explanation Logan had for him having a handkerchief on him.

  “Thank you, William. So thoughtful.” She dabbed at her eyes, then squared her shoulders, standing straighter. Logan grinned. Charlotte came by her resilience honestly. “Okay, y’all. Enough waterworks, there’s work to be done! I still need to finish throwing this salad together, so you can start with the hot dishes. My daughter can direct you. Charlotte, honey, did you meet everybody?”

  All eyes turned to Charlotte, and Logan watched as she flushed pink from the attention but didn’t move beyond shaking her head no. “Just Doc.” She smiled at the older man, and Logan realized it was the first time he’d seen it. She had dimples. Her smiled faded as she turned her eyes to him. “And Logan.”

  No smile for him. She still didn’t trust him. That was probably for the best.

  Doc returned her smile. “It must be a little overwhelming to meet us all at once, Miss Charlotte. I’m sorry about that. You already met Logan, like you said. This is Liam.” Liam gave her a small wave. “And there’s Cal, Jeremiah, Matteo, and Jack.”

  The other men all greeted her but kept their distance. Doc ran a tight ship, that was for sure. A lot of these guys had rough pasts. For some of them, that included bad behavior as far as women were concerned. Doc didn’t tolerate what he called “funny business,” and they all knew the rules. Including Logan. But there was something special about Charlotte, and he couldn’t be the only guy who noticed. He scratched his jaw and waited for her to tell them what to do.

  After a minute, Charlotte uncrossed her arms and moved over to stand next to the island, still keeping her physical distance from Logan. What did she think he was going to do? Save her life again? In her own kitchen?

  Easy, guy. Chill out.

  “Okay, so I put the lasagnas in these boxes. Hopefully they won’t slide around too much on the drive.” Charlotte handed Jeremiah and Cal one box each. Logan tensed as her hand brushed Cal’s on the hand-off. No one else seemed to notice. “Careful, they’re still super hot.”

  Two more lasagnas went out the door with Matteo and Jack, followed by Liam with a massive dish of macaroni and cheese. When she finally turned to Logan, arms filled with a triple stack of plastic tubs containing what looked like cookies and brownies, she hesitated. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again and handed him the tubs without a word. Her hand stayed in place a second too long, and he accidentally touched her finger tips as he accepte
d the stack. She gasped and pulled her hand back as though she’d been burned, drawing the attention of both her mother and Doc, who stood chatting nearby as Lucy finished the last salad.

  Doc looked at Charlotte. “Everything okay?”

  Logan was halfway down the hallway when he heard Charlotte finally answer. “Yeah, fine.”

  Back outside, he handed the desserts to Liam, who settled them in among the trays of lasagna before reaching up to close the rear hatch.

  “That’s it for this one, I’m afraid. So…how was it seeing her again?”

  Logan glanced over at the other Brothers. “Hey, there’s more to carry, guys.”

  Once they’d disappeared into the house, Logan turned to his friend. “I don’t know, man. I think she hates me.”

  Liam started to respond, then stopped as an unmarked van drove slowly by. “Strange.”

  Logan kept his eyes on the vehicle until it was out of sight. “It’s a different make from the one that almost hit her last weekend, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the same people.”

  “She doesn’t hate you.”

  “Pretty sure she might.” Logan dug into his pocket, then tossed Liam his motorcycle key. “Follow that van, would ya? I want to talk to her again before I leave. I’ll catch a ride back with Doc.”

  “No problem.” Liam took off after the van, and Logan watched until he was out of sight. Not many men he’d let ride that bike. Liam had better not set her down.

  “Hey, is this one full?” Jeremiah held another dish of macaroni and cheese in one hand and was balancing a large bowl of green salad in the other.

  “Yeah, hang on.” Logan opened the back of the second truck and took the salad before disaster struck, then moved out of the way as the other guys returned with the rest of the food. Doc was the last to emerge from the house. He took in the absence of Logan’s bike.

  “Liam?”