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  Heartfire

  Search For Love Series

  Book 5

  Karen Rose Smith

  Published by Karen Rose Smith for Kindle

  Copyright 2011 Karen Rose Smith

  Revised and Updated Edition

  Original Copyright 1993 Karen Rose Smith

  Original title: Homefire, Heartfire

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  www.karenrosesmith.com

  Prologue

  The May breeze wafting through the kitchen window ruffled Tessa Kahill's brown curls as she stared at Max Winthrop's broad back. He peered out the back door, watching his son play on the swing set in the yard. His shoulders were so straight and stiff, so stoic as he kept all of his emotion tucked securely inside.

  Tessa didn't know whether to go to him or not. Long ago she'd blocked out the memories of the summer they'd spent together before she'd taken off for New York, before he'd gotten to know Leslie. All these years, Tessa had relegated him to being her best friend's husband. And for the most part, she’d stayed away. That had been best.

  Now Leslie was gone. During the past month since Leslie's death, Tessa had been in Jenkins, Connecticut, staying with her best friend's parents, trying to give them comfort. Throughout her college friendship with their daughter, they’d been kind and supportive of her. She would have tried to give Max comfort, too, but he'd isolated himself during her stay, though she'd tried to help with Ryan. He was a proud man, insisting on handling his responsibilities himself. She wished he didn't disapprove of her lifestyle so. She also wished he could accept more of her help.

  Crossing to the door, she stood beside him. "Max?"

  He stared straight ahead. "Ryan's only four. What's he going to do without her? What am I going to do without her?"

  Tessa couldn't keep from reaching out to him. She couldn't keep from laying her hand gently on his arm. "You're strong, and Ryan's resilient. You'll get through this. You'll go on with your lives."

  Max turned to her then, his whiskey-brown eyes moist. "I miss her."

  His unexpected openness and sadness released Tessa's grief, and her throat tightened. At one time, she and Leslie had depended on each other. Tessa had been closer to Leslie than she’d ever been to anyone. "I do, too."

  Tessa didn't know how it happened, but suddenly Max's arms surrounded her and she held him tight. As her hand rested on the warm skin of his neck, as she felt his heart beating under hers, as she felt his strength and comfort, she unexpectedly felt something else, too. She tried to push it away, but it came back.

  Max needed her comfort so she didn't pull away. But she held perfectly still and didn't breathe in his male scent. She shut out the sound of his heart. She blocked out the wonderful feel of his muscled arms surrounding her. And she told herself she was just lonely, grieving, missing the one person in the world she'd felt closest to. This moment would never happen again.

  She had to get back to work. The assignment waiting for her in Italy would help her heal. Traveling around the world had made her a person who belonged everywhere rather than someone who belonged nowhere.

  Max would heal, too. All he needed was time.

  Chapter One

  Three Years Later

  Tessa stood at the bottom of the ladder, looking up. "Max?"

  A shingle came sliding down the garage roof and landed on bushy stalks of yellow pincushion mums. Max's voice carried over the edge with it. "Tessa! I thought you were arriving next week."

  "I finished my assignment and decided I could use some R and R now."

  "I'll be down in a minute."

  Tessa never waited if she could help it. Her sneakers made no sound as she climbed the ladder tilted against the detached garage. Her jeans rubbed the rungs while her oversized red-striped shirt blew away from her back and puffed behind her as she reached the top rung. She stopped. Max was shirtless, his jeans riding low on his hips.

  When he saw her, he shook his head and gave her a wry smile. "I thought I told you I'd be down."

  No one had answered the front door to Max's Cape Cod. On an Indian summer Saturday afternoon in Connecticut, she'd known Max and Ryan wouldn't be cooped up inside. "I wanted to see the view. Look at the orange, red and yellow trees against the blue sky! Don't you wish you could take a picture in your mind and keep it forever?" She started to climb the slight incline to reach the peak where he stood.

  Max gave her one of his penetrating looks. "You might be used to mountains, but I don't want you falling from my roof."

  He was referring to her trip covering the latest women’s team who'd climbed Mt. Everest. "Max, you worry too much."

  She couldn't keep from staring at his bronze shoulders gleaming with sweat in the late-afternoon sun. Since the day when she and Max had comforted each other, Tessa had kept her distance from him, though not from Ryan. She loved her godson, and as she had every September since he'd been born, she'd come back to Jenkins for his birthday.

  Suddenly, a zooming ball of motion sped into the yard from alongside of the house. "Tessa! Tessa!" Ryan shouted as he saw her travel bag and laptop computer on the ground and her on the roof. "You're here! My birthday's not till next Saturday. Hey, Dad, did you know she was coming today?"

  At the sound of Ryan's voice, Tessa spun around and her foot slipped. Before she could take a breath, Max caught her around the waist. Suddenly she smelled hot musky male, and she knew if she turned her head, her nose would brush the soft dark brown curls on Max's chest. The roof whirled, colors blurred, and she put her hands on his arms to steady herself.

  "Will you get off the roof now?" he asked in a low, controlled tone.

  She didn't think it was the roof that was making her shaky. "All right." She called to Ryan. "I'll be down in a minute."

  Max took his arm from around her waist. "Let me go down first so I can hold the ladder."

  She smiled and teased to cover the disturbing sensations that lingered. "I'll let your macho tendencies dictate...this time."

  He returned a slow, reluctant smile. "But I'll pay for it in the future?"

  "You bet."

  Max inhaled a deep breath and climbed over the top rung of the ladder, feeling as if he’d been caught up in a whirlwind. Tessa always demanded notice. It was her verve, her energy, her intensity. Yes, he'd been attracted to her once...before she'd left him for her career. Before he'd become involved with Leslie. He'd always been thankful Leslie had worked at the resort with Tessa that summer in the Poconos, thankful for his marriage, thankful for the wonderful result—Ryan.

  Tessa didn't wait until Max was on the ground before she started down the ladder, and he shook his head with exasperation. She was almost in front of him, almost between his arms, before he could move away. He felt the backs of her thighs against his chest and momentarily lost the urge to step aside.

  She paused to look at him over her shoulder. "I'm okay now."

  Startled by his unexpected reaction to her, Max moved to the left and held the ladder with one hand.

  When Tessa was finally on the ground, seven-year-old Ryan wrapped his arms around her legs and squeezed so hard she almost lost her balance. Smiling, she squeezed him back. "Hi there, pancake. I've missed you. What have you been up to?"

  "I was nex' door playing with Scruffy. Flo says she can't throw the ball as good as she used to. You are gonna stay 'til my birthday, aren't you?"


  His next-door neighbor was in her sixties and owned a mutt Ryan loved to play with. But Max forgot about Flo and her dog to listen to Tessa's answer to his son's question.

  "I sure am. But I have to call a motel so I don't have to camp in your backyard tonight."

  "Aw, Dad, can't she stay here? It'll be great. Like a sleepover. I can't go with her like I used to and stay at Nana's house anymore."

  Max thought of Leslie's parents—the only caring family Tessa had ever experienced. Five months ago they'd moved to Arizona to find relief for Ryan's grandfather's arthritis. They'd hated leaving their grandson, but he and Ryan were supposed to visit them next summer. Max wondered if they could also somehow manage a visit to his parents' farm in Nebraska. It was important for Ryan to stay in touch with his extended family.

  "I don't want to put your dad out," Tessa said softly.

  "But we can't make pancakes in the morning if you're at a motel," Ryan wailed.

  "We could go out for breakfast instead," she offered.

  "Dad..."

  Max met Tessa's gaze. She'd never stayed in his house before. But it would be stupid for her to rent a motel room. After all, she'd been Leslie's best friend, especially during those months before his wife died. Tessa had called or e-mailed every day and visited whenever she could. More than once, he’d overheard Leslie pouring out her fears to Tessa, her concern about her son. Why shouldn't Tessa stay?

  Grabbing the ladder, he shifted it sideways to prop it against the garage. "You're welcome to stay with us, Tessa."

  She glanced at the pile of shingles on the ground and for the first time in her life sounded...cautious. "I don't want to get in Mrs. Clark's way."

  "I'm not coaching basketball this year so Ryan and I decided we could learn to cook. Mrs. Clark just comes in once a week to clean."

  Tessa's eyes widened. "But you love coaching."

  "I felt Ryan and I needed time together, and coaching was taking up too much of it."

  She studied him for a long moment, then nodded, as if she understood. "Then if you're sure you don't mind, I'll stay."

  Ryan jumped up and down and cheered. But after one look at Tessa's small, tilted up nose, her wide green eyes and her wind tousled hair, Max wondered if he'd just made a monumental mistake. Tessa could be a handful.

  Then again, he could handle anything for a week.

  Max grabbed his shirt from the branch of a bush, shrugged into it and swept up Tessa's bag and computer before she could protest—which she usually did. She was the most independent woman he'd ever met. He supposed her background had something to do with that. Even though they’d dated that one summer when he’d worked at the same resort she had, he didn't know much, just that she'd spent part of her childhood in foster homes. Tessa had always been reluctant to share anything about her background and he hadn’t pushed. Maybe he should have. Maybe then he would have understood better why she’d left.

  Once in the house, he put her computer on the desk and was about to carry her bag upstairs when he noticed the blinking light on his answering machine. He said to Ryan, "Go on and get washed up for supper."

  "Pizza?" Ryan asked hopefully.

  "If that's okay with Tessa."

  "Pizza's fine," she agreed with a smile.

  Max studied the blinking light again. Going to the machine, he pressed PLAY. A few moments later he heard, "Mr. Winthrop, this is Mrs. Bartlett, Ryan's teacher. Please give me a call." She gave the number where she could be reached.

  "Problems?" Tessa asked.

  "I hope not. But I’d better call her."

  Five minutes later, Max replaced the handset onto its base, worried. "Mrs. Bartlett wants to meet with me Monday after school. Ryan's having problems, and she wants to intervene as soon as she can so they don't get worse."

  "What kind of problems?" Tessa seemed truly interested. Over the past few years, he’d realized how much she cared about Ryan even if she couldn’t be around much.

  "She mentioned inattention, reading difficulties, problems making friends."

  "My gosh. In the first few weeks of school?"

  "She's good, Tessa. She's been with the district about ten years. She wouldn't have called on a whim. She has too many other concerns."

  He taught math at the high school in Ryan’s school district and knew the reputations of most of the teachers. In a small town like Jenkins, gossip was rampant and nothing stayed a secret.

  "Did Ryan have any problems last year?" Tessa asked.

  "Not that I'm aware of."

  Ryan had missed his mother and ever since she’d died, Max had tried to do double duty. His expression must have manifested his frustration because Tessa offered, "I'll go with you if you'd like."

  When Leslie had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, Max knew Tessa had felt as powerless as he had. Nothing they could do had kept the cancer from taking his wife away. But even if Tessa wanted to help, he doubted if he could depend on her.

  "I don't want to disturb your schedule."

  "I'm working on a few articles, but there's no reason I can't take some time out to help Ryan. I know how meetings can be. Maybe I’ll ask questions you don’t think of."

  Max looked at her for a long, probing moment. Did he want Tessa to become involved? Yet when he thought about Ryan’s recent silences and his own inability to get Ryan to open up— "If you want to come, it can't hurt. I know you love Ryan." Max paused, then admitted, "He has seemed quieter lately and he's been spending more time in his room. I've tried to get him to talk to me, but he just seems to...remove himself."

  Tessa touched his arm. "Don't borrow trouble, Max. Where does she want us to meet her?"

  Max looked at her hand on his arm, surprised at the sudden heat he felt, surprised that he registered the sensual softness of her fingers on his skin. "In her classroom at four."

  All at once Tessa looked…uncomfortable. Had she changed her mind about wanting to go with him already?

  "What’s wrong?"

  She was quick to answer, "Nothing’s wrong. Mrs. Bartlett’s room at four is fine."

  But Max suspected something about the appointment wasn’t fine. He wouldn’t be surprised if Tessa cancelled.

  He remembered why he and Tessa had broken up. He remembered why he hadn’t been able to count on her then…and wouldn’t count on her now.

  ***

  A few hours later, as Tessa sat at the foot of Ryan’s bed while Max read him a story, she was still concerned about the chill running up her spine when she’d found out the meeting with Mrs. Bartlett would be at Ryan’s school. That was an obvious meeting place, of course. And she wouldn’t rescind her offer. She had to do this for Max and Ryan. She might be uncomfortable for a little while. But, hey. She’d covered wars! She could handle this.

  Since she’d arrived, she’d seen how Ryan had changed and grown. She'd visited Jenkins last spring before Leslie's parents had moved to Arizona. He had Leslie's blond hair and it was even lighter now from summer sun. He'd grown at least an inch. But he'd also changed in some interior way. She couldn't put her finger on it, except to notice he was more subdued.

  Max closed the book and laid it on the nightstand. Ryan reached up and wound his arms around Max's neck. "G'night, Dad."

  Max leaned away and brushed his son's sandy hair across his brow. "Night."

  The scene almost brought tears to Tessa's eyes. Max's love was so evident, his sense of responsibility so complete.

  As Max rose from the bed and moved toward the doorway, she went to the head of the bed, gave Ryan a hug and kissed his cheek. "Sweet dreams. I'll see you in the morning."

  "Hey, Dad, do we have blueberries and everything else Tessa needs?"

  "Sure do."

  Whenever she visited, she made blueberry pancakes for Ryan. It was one of the few things she cooked on a regular basis. He always ate at least three. That's why she'd given him the nickname "pancake." She tossed him a grin and a thumbs-up sign and followed Max down the stairs.
r />   "Another piece of pizza?" Max asked with a nod toward the kitchen.

  "Sounds good. Pizza's rare where I've been lately."

  While Max warmed a few pieces in the microwave, he stared out the window into the dark yard.

  Tessa guessed he was thinking about the meeting with Ryan's teacher. "It won't do much good to worry."

  He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. "That's what parents do. And when there's only one parent—"

  "You do a good job, Max."

  "Apparently not good enough." The timer went off on the microwave. He transferred the dish to the table.

  She doubted if anything she said could change his mind right now. After she poured two cups of coffee, she carried them to the table. "What do you have planned for tomorrow?"

  "Ryan and I sometimes go to the roller-skating rink on Sunday afternoons."

  "That sounds like fun." She sat and took a bite out of her pizza. The cheese strung out and fell down her chin.

  Max caught it with his thumb. When the pad of his finger slipped along her skin, tingles chased each other up her neck, and nine long years seemed to fall away.

  Max leaned back against his chair and wiped his thumb on his napkin, as if he'd just wiped Ryan's chin. "You haven't gone skating for a while?"

  Apparently he did not feel the same sensations she did when they touched. He had been so in love with Leslie and probably still was. "Not since college. Leslie and I went with a group from the dorm."

  "It's hard for me to imagine you two as roommates, let alone best friends. You were so different."

  They certainly were. Leslie was silk and lace and perfume. Tessa was jeans and cotton and fresh air, if she had anything to say about it. Still Max's comparison unsettled her, although she'd often made it herself. Rooming with Leslie at college, Tessa had always been amazed at how different the two of them were yet how well they'd always gotten along. When they'd decided to accept jobs at the resort in the Poconos the summer after graduation, they'd both been excited about it. After all, in the fall, Tessa would be working as an intern on a morning show in New York City and Leslie would be returning to her hometown of Jenkins to work in her father's insurance office. That summer, Max had been employed at the resort, too, in the business office while he looked for a teaching position. As girl Friday for the manager, Tessa had run into him often and they'd begun dating. But then she'd had her focus set on being a foreign correspondent and...freedom. After she'd broken up with Max and left for New York City, he and Leslie had begun e-mailing. And the rest, as they say, was history.