Leland Wolfe Remington maneuvered off the county road and headed home to Wickham Falls, West Virginia. It had been a long time since he’d thought of The Falls as home. And it was the first time in twelve years that he had returned as a civilian.
Lee doubted whether he would’ve come back if his sister hadn’t called him to reveal that she’d had to close down the family-owned boardinghouse after her live-in boyfriend had swindled her out of her inheritance. Not only was she facing the possibility of the house being seized by the county because of delinquent property taxes, but she was also being sued for large purchases she’d never authorized. The latest love of her life had stolen her identity, and she was facing bankruptcy. It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell her she was too trusting, that she loved with her heart and not her head, but he’d nearly lost his composure as he heard his sister sobbing while she begged him to come back to The Falls to help her reopen the boardinghouse. It was all she had left of their mother’s family legacy.
Decelerating, he became a sightseer in a place of which he had good and bad memories. It was the bad ones that had sent him fleeing as soon as he graduated high school, vowing never to come back to live.
His foot hit the brake, and he came to a complete stop when he saw the tall, slender woman walking toward a minivan parked in front of the house where his best friend, Justin Mitchell, had grown up. Galvanized into action, Lee shut off the engine, exited his Jeep Grand Cherokee and waved to the woman shading her eyes with one hand as she held her son’s with the other.
“Have I changed that much that you don’t recognize me?” he teased as he closed the distance between them.
Angela Banks-Mitchell’s jaw dropped. “Lee Remington?”
“In the flesh,” he said, smiling.
Lee met the curious eyes of the small boy who was a mirror image of his late father. He had inherited Justin’s taupe-brown complexion, light brown eyes and curly hair. Malcolm and his twin sister weren’t born when Justin had lost his life while on patrol in Afghanistan. Lee had just graduated US Army Ranger School when Angela sent him a text message about Justin. He had gone to his commanding officer and requested bereavement leave to attend a fallen soldier’s funeral, and returned to Wickham Falls to stand in as a pallbearer for his friend. Since that time, he hadn’t been back to his hometown—until now.
“There were rumors that you were coming back last year. Apparently, you changed your mind,” Angela said.
Angela’s mellifluous voice shattered his reverie. Wide-set eyes in a round face the color of whipped mousse held him spellbound. Her delicate features, long legs that seemed to go on forever and waif-thin figure had made her a much-sought-after model even before she graduated high school. Fashion designers were falling over themselves to get her to wear their haute couture, and her agent, who was known to be as unscrupulous as he was skilled in negotiating Angela’s meteoric rise as a supermodel, had proved profitable for both of them. She had earned the sobriquet of “America’s Naomi Campbell.” Lee always felt as if he had lost her twice: once to Justin, and the other time to the glamorous world of high fashion modeling.
The years had been more than kind to Angela. Her face had remained as beautiful as ever, while her body had filled out with womanly curves.
He rested a hand on her shoulder. If the child hadn’t been there, Lee would have kissed her cheek. He noted that although her mouth was smiling it wasn’t the same with her eyes. There was sadness in the depths of those slanting, dark brown orbs that was a reminder of the loss of her husband and the father of her children.
He wanted to tell Angela he hadn’t changed his mind, but that at the time he had been deployed for three months. She waved her left hand and his gaze was drawn to her fingers. Although widowed, she had taken off her rings.
“Believe it now, because I am back.” Lee felt a modicum of guilt that he hadn’t kept in touch with her following Justin’s funeral.
“How long are you staying?” she asked.
Lee dropped his hand. “I’m not sure.” His sister had asked him to come back last spring, but he’d had to decline her request. He wasn’t able to tell her he’d been assigned to raids in the Middle East and then subsequently to a war-torn African country.
“One month? Two months?”
Lee stared down at the toes of his military-issued boots before his head popped up. “It’s indefinite.” He didn’t tell her he had given himself a timeline of a year to get the boardinghouse up and running again before reenlisting.
“You left the army?”
He angled his head. Angela had asked him a question he knew would be repeated over and over by those living in The Falls. “I have, for now.”
“But—but—I thought you were going to be a lifer,” Angela stuttered.
A wry smile twisted Lee’s mouth. “Life has a way of changing the best-laid plans,” he drawled. The instant the words were out he regretted them. “I’m sorry about that.”
Angela shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize, Lee. The plans we made when we were teenagers no longer apply.”
He nodded. She was right. He, Angela and Justin had written down one wish for what they wanted for their futures the year they’d celebrated their sixteenth birthdays, put the lists in a sealed envelope with the proviso they would open it a day before their high school graduation. Lee had fulfilled his wish to join the military and Angela had had her wish to have a successful modeling career. But it was Justin who had deviated from his goal of becoming a doctor by dropping out of medical school after a year to enlist in the Marines.
His gaze went to the little boy staring up at him. “Hello, buddy.”
A slight frown appeared between the child’s clear brown eyes. “I’m no buddy. My name is Malcolm.”
A wide grin parted Lee’s lips. “I guess he told me,” he said sotto voce.
Angela stared at her son. Her children were quite outspoken, a trait that annoyed her old-school mother-in-law who believed that children should be seen and not heard. “Malcolm, please say hello to Mr. Lee.”
Malcolm blinked slowly. “Hello, Mr. Lee.”
Lee hunkered down to Malcolm’s 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