"What was your real mother like?" she asked.
"She was pretty, blonde hair, blue eyes, great smile. I remember her laugh. It was hearty for such a small person. She wasn't much over five feet tall. She liked to go barefoot all the time. She used to take us down to the beach, because she loved the ocean. She actually taught me how to surf." The memory widened his smile. He could still see her in his mind, running into the surf, her hair flowing out behind her.
"She sounds adventurous."
"She was. She liked a good challenge."
"Like you."
"I did feel like she understood me. But she made a point of having alone time with each of us. I don't know how she managed it, although my grandmother was around a lot to help out." As he thought about his grandmother, he remembered the odd exchange they'd had at lunch. "My grandmother isn't doing well," he added. "She was at the house for Sunday lunch, and she started talking to me like I was her husband." He looked over at Sara. "She said something about it was time to tell the secret."
"More family secrets," Sara said, her lips tightening. "That doesn't sound good."
"Grandma wasn't lucid. She could have been talking about anything."
"Or something."
He frowned, directing his attention back to the road. "She didn't know what she was saying. I was shocked at how out of it she was. She's always been healthy, active, sharp; it's disturbing to see that change."
"Well, I hope she's okay. And if there is any big Callaway secret, perhaps it's better if you don't go looking for it. A part of me wishes I could turn back time and not find that box in the basement, not go through those pictures, not learn that my entire life was built on deception."
"In the end it could be good, Sara. You've always felt a distance from your father and you blamed yourself. Perhaps you were pointing the finger in the wrong direction. You need to find out why there was a need to deceive you."
"I can't think of a reason that would make sense. Do you think I'm a coward for not confronting my father right away?"
"No. I think you're regrouping, and that's smart. But then you're a smart girl."
"Thanks. So where are we going, Aiden?"
"Home," he replied, knowing that subconsciously that's where he'd been heading all along. "And I'm not talking about San Francisco." He turned his head to meet her gaze. "Are you okay with that?" There were a lot of shadows in her still puffy eyes and he could see the indecision in her expression. "Trust me, Sara," he added.
"Okay," she said finally. "Show me where home is."
Chapter Fifteen
As they got further away from San Francisco, Sara felt her muscles begin to relax. The more miles between herself and her father's house the better. She needed time to think about everything she'd learned, and Aiden was giving her both time and space. She suspected his offer to take her away was not entirely selfless. The Callaways loved deeply but also demanded a lot from each other. The expectations set by generations of Callaway men could be a heavy load to carry, and Aiden was dragging under the weight.
"Did you talk to Jeanne?" she asked suddenly. "You were going to connect this morning, weren’t you?"
"Yes, we had a long conversation. I gave her as much information as I could, and she said she'd get back to me with whatever she could find. She said it would be easier if I would agree to let her speak to members of my team, but I asked her to hold off on that for now."
"You don't want to tie her hands too tightly."
"I want to see if we can get anywhere without involving the other guys."
"That makes sense." She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs as she looked out the window. Her eyes felt red from all the crying she'd done earlier, and she wished now she'd taken some time to put on a little makeup. She felt a little embarrassed that Aiden had seen her in such an emotional state, but she couldn't do anything about that now. She'd chalk it up to one more time that he hadn't seen her at her best.
Now that she wasn't feeling so tense, she could appreciate the fact that she was getting to spend more time with him. They were getting to know each other as adults and they were getting along really well. She told herself not to read too much into it. They were both going through some rough personal times and for whatever reason they were able to help each other out, but it was all so very temporary.
She thought about their earlier conversation, about Aiden's real mother and the loss he'd suffered. She wondered now if his unwillingness to commit to a relationship with a woman had something to do with losing his mom at such a young age. He'd obviously loved his mother deeply, so deeply that even after twenty-something years, he couldn't call his stepmother Mom. Maybe it was habit as he'd said, but she thought the reason might be out of respect for his mom's memory.
She knew what it was like to lose a mother. It hurt like hell. She'd been destroyed for months after her mom's passing, and she felt the loss now as keenly as she had ten years earlier. She'd been older than Aiden when it happened, but she'd still felt adrift without her mom, her anchor. It must have been doubly worse for Aiden. Maybe it was the memory of that pain that kept him from love.
Not that he didn't love his family and his friends, but that was a different kind of love. A woman would demand all of him, his heart, his soul, his body, and his mind. If he kept things light and casual, he didn't have to worry about that.
In some ways, she did the same thing. She went on a lot of dates, but she didn't have long-term relationships. No one was ever quite right. Maybe she should be analyzing herself instead of Aiden. Or maybe she should skip the analysis and just live in the moment.
Turning to Aiden, she said, "Tell me about Redding, about your home. What should I expect?"
"Not much," he said dryly. "The city is on the small side, about eighty-thousand people. It sits on the banks of the Sacramento River and it's nestled between several mountain ranges. Lake Shasta is nearby for boating and the redwood forests provide great camping opportunities. The city was bigger back when the lumber industry was booming. Now it's become more of an escape for people looking to get out of the high priced big cities and find more affordable housing. It's a nice community. When I'm on duty during fire season, I sleep in the barracks at the base. The rest of the time I live in a small apartment about five minutes away."
"So you stay in Redding all year long?"
He nodded. "I moved up here full time about three years ago."
"And Kyle did the same?"
"Yeah. The first year we shared a place. The next year he met Vicky. She moved into our place and I got a smaller apartment upstairs."
"So you saw a lot of each other."
"Yes we did. After the baby was born, Vicky started pressuring Kyle to quit smokejumping. She wanted to move back to San Francisco, and she wanted him to work there. He eventually agreed. It wasn't his first choice, but he wanted her to be happy and he knew it wasn't easy for her to be on her own during the fire season. We could be gone for days at a time, and she was stuck in a place where she didn't have friends or family, except a few of the other wives or girlfriends."
"That does make sense."
"Perfect sense," he agreed. "I was just sorry that Kyle had to give up on his dream. Everyone thinks that Kyle followed me to Redding, that I was the instigator, but the truth was that smokejumping was his passion. I might have gotten him into firefighting, but he's the one who wanted to smokejump. I followed him. At first, I thought he was nuts. We were running ten miles a day, carrying eighty-pound packs in a hundred degree weather, it was crazy."
She heard the passion in his voice. "But you loved it."
"Well, you always said I was crazy," he said, flipping her a smile.
Her heart turned over at his sexy grin, reminding her that being caught up in an emotional whirlwind had not dampened her attraction to Aiden one bit. She was probably the crazy one, agreeing to take off with him, knowing that spending more time in his company was only going to make it more difficult to say goodbye. But it was too late for regrets.
"If you all lived in the same apartment building," she said, "I'm surprised that Vicky would turn on you the way she has. How could she believe that you'd do anything to jeopardize your best friend's life?"
"She thinks I let Kyle down. By the time Vicky came along, I'd been promoted a few times, and she saw me as the leader, someone who'd watch out for Kyle. She used to take me aside every now and then and tell me that she felt better knowing I had Kyle's back. She'd make me promise to bring him back safely. I didn't keep my promise."
She heard the pain in his voice and didn't like that Aiden was taking the blame for what was most likely a tragic accident. "How much farther do we have to go?" she asked, changing the subject.
"About twenty minutes. Around that bend up there you're going to start to see some real nature. Tomorrow, I'll show you some of my favorite spots."
The word
tomorrow
reminded her that they were going to be spending the night together, and she couldn't help thinking about where she was going to sleep, and whether or not they'd finish the kiss they'd started the night before. Her body tingled at the thought at the same time her mind screamed
caution
.
Aiden suddenly put a hand on her thigh, and she jumped.
"It's going to be okay, Sara," he said, meeting her gaze.
She didn't know exactly what he meant, but looking into his beautiful blue eyes she knew there was no place else she'd rather be right now than with him.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Aiden pointed to an airfield in the distance. She could see several small planes on the tarmac. "That's the base," he told her. "Not many people around this time of year. It gets busy again in the early spring when we start selecting rookies and preparing for the next season."
"So, you'd normally be working now at what?" she asked.
"I do different things during the off season, forestry work, teaching fire safety classes, working on equipment. When I'm not doing that, I do some carpentry. A former smokejumper named Bo makes cabinets, and whenever he needs extra hands, he knows who to call. Bo is a real character. He's in his fifties now. He had twenty-two seasons under his belt when he wrecked his knee and had to quit. He has more stories than anyone I've ever met."
"Did you talk to Bo after the accident?"
"Yeah, he was in the hospital when I woke up."
"Had he had a similar experience to yours?"
"He told me a few stories, but I wasn't really in the mood to listen."
"How long were you in the hospital?" she asked, unable to picture Aiden in that setting. He was such an active man.
"Just overnight. I checked myself out."
"Of course you did," she said dryly.
"I was fine, Sara, and I couldn't stay there. I couldn't lie in a bed with nothing to do but think about Kyle."
"What about all your other friends? You said you had some supporters on your crew? Did you spend time with them?"
"Everyone was leaving. Fire season was over. Their plans were made, plane tickets had been booked."
"I just don't understand why you're so alone, Aiden. I thought firefighters were like brothers."
"We are like brothers," he said tersely. "But when you let one of those brothers die, no one in the family is too happy to see you."
"You and Kyle were separated from the group, so how does anyone besides the two of you know what happened?" she challenged. "It sounds to me like you're starting to believe their stories instead of what your gut tells you."
"If I believed their stories, I wouldn't have hired an investigator."
"Okay," she said, relieved that he wasn't giving up. "Good."
"And I wasn't completely abandoned. Some of the guys made an effort to talk to me. I just wasn't in the mood to see anyone. I needed to deal with Kyle's death on my own."
She was relieved to hear that not everyone blamed Aiden. But she knew Aiden would not feel better until he knew the truth for himself, whatever it was.
A few minutes later, Aiden pulled into a parking spot in front of a modest four-story apartment building. The building was at the end of a street and on the opposite corner was a beautiful park with lots of trees, a garden, and a play structure in the distance.
"This is a pretty neighborhood," she said.
"The park sold me," he said. "Kyle and I used to play basketball over there on the weekends." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, this is home. Ready to see the inside?"
"Absolutely."
They grabbed their bags and headed up the stairs. "Of course you would live on the top floor," she commented. "And in a building with no elevator."
He grabbed the handle of her suitcase, relieving her of the burden. "It has an elevator. I just never use it. Walking is faster. And I have to keep in shape."
He was definitely in good shape, she thought, as she got a nice view of his ass on the way up the stairs.
Aiden gave her a funny look when they reached his door. "You're all red. The stairs weren't that bad, were they?"
"I'm fine. It's just hotter here than it is in New York." Okay, that was a stupid answer. She cleared her throat. "Are we going in?"
He turned the key and opened the door. "After you. It's not much."
The one-bedroom apartment with a small kitchen off the living area might not be much, but it was Aiden's home, and she could see his personality everywhere she looked. The furniture was very male, big, overstuffed couch with a bunch of loose pillows and a recliner with a perfect view of what appeared to be a sixty-inch television screen. There were newspapers on the coffee table and a couple of novels, which surprised her a little. She'd always thought of Aiden as a man of action and not as a reader.
Speaking of action… The walls were covered with amazing photographs, athletes engaged in extreme sports, skiers going off tops of mountains, surfers taking on huge waves, and rock climbers reaching the summit of a steep peak. Moving closer to the wall by the kitchen, she realized some of the photos were actually of Aiden and Kyle.