Читать книгу Colorado Fireman - C.C. Coburn - Страница 8

Awakened the next morning by pandemonium from the kitchen, Adam recognized the deep pitch of several of his brothers’ voices and an occasional “Shh!” from his mom.

He stumbled out of bed, washed his face but didn’t bother shaving and went downstairs, hungry enough to eat one of their prize black Angus steers all by himself. He’d missed dinner since he’d taken the much-wanted shower and fallen into bed, exhausted, and slept through the night.

Sunday mornings, the family usually gathered at Two Elk Ranch for breakfast. However, today was Saturday, Adam noted as he strode into the kitchen, a huge room that accommodated the family dining table. Today it was packed to overflowing with all his brothers.

“Here he is!” Celeste, his youngest niece, cried and ran to him, her arms outstretched.

Adam bent to lift Celeste the way he’d done a hundred times before, but as he did, a muscle twitched with pain. He grunted and nearly dropped her.

His reaction had most of the occupants of the kitchen rushing forward to help him. He held out a hand to restrain them and ruffled Celeste’s hair. “Next time, kiddo,” he said. “I must’ve put out something in my back.”

He rubbed at the spot, but couldn’t quite reach it.

“Then it’s lucky Carly is a massage therapist,” his brother Will said. He came around the table to clap Adam on the back, making him wince. “And in case I didn’t say it yesterday, well done, little brother. Anyone who saves a dog is good people in my book.”

Speaking of the dog, he wondered where she was. Adam tried not to groan as Will slapped him again.

“You should have Carly look at that,” his mom said.

“I’d be happy to.”

Adam glanced around and found the woman with too many children, with the littlest one perched on her hip. She seemed slightly less vulnerable than she had the last time he’d seen her. The toddler’s face was covered with goo that might or might not have been oatmeal. He smiled and waved at Adam. Adam forced himself to smile back. He smiled at the mom, too—but not an overly friendly smile, since she and her kids were responsible for getting him booted out of the apartment above the stables.

He wished he could disappear. He wasn’t comfortable with crowds, even if he was related to most of the people there. How he missed the seclusion of that apartment.

Then his eyes fell on the newspaper spread across the table and his stomach lurched. The headline, Hometown Hero, glared up at Adam, along with a photo of him carrying the child out of the burning apartment building. A smaller one showed him and Molly lying on their stretchers side by side. Unfortunately, it also featured Louella kissing him. The caption beneath read Mayor’s Pet Pig Thanks Heroic Firefighter Adam O’Malley.

Adam hated seeing the word hero associated with his name. He was no hero. Heroes didn’t let their friend take the rap for a fatal car accident.

His dad came forward and clapped him on the back. Like his two oldest sons, Luke and Matt, Mac O’Malley was a man of few words. Adam figured his mom more than made up for it. He didn’t expect his dad to say anything, so when Adam saw tears brimming in his eyes, he nodded and let his dad pass by him and leave the kitchen.

His brother Jack came over and was about to clap him on the back, too, but Adam held up his hand and Jack dropped his. “Sore, eh, buddy?” Jack asked, and Adam nodded.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jack said. Then tears welled in his eyes, as well.

Oh, jeez, this was what he didn’t need, an outpouring of emotion from the O’Malley men. Although he and Jack were separated in age by only eleven months, they were pretty much opposite in temperament. Jack wore his heart on his sleeve; Adam wasn’t sure if he even had a heart.

Coming back to town had been a bad idea. He shouldn’t have accepted that one-month posting to Spruce Lake to cover an absence in the department. He should’ve gone somewhere else in Colorado. Anywhere else! But his mom had pressured him to take the posting, saying he was missing out on seeing his nieces and nephews growing up.

Adam had enough guilt to deal with, so he’d agreed to the job, telling himself it was only for a month. He could survive a month without having to get too close to anyone or having to care too much. And then he could return to Boulder, where no one knew anything about his past and no one ever pried into his private business.

“Thank you for saving Molly, mister.”

Adam looked down into the pale blue eyes of the Carly woman’s daughter. Sheesh! Her eyes were brimming, too.

He patted her on the head. “You’re welcome, kid.” And then to deflect the gratitude of the rest of the children who were moving in his direction, he asked, “So where’s Molly?”

“She’s right here, Uncle Adam.” He heard Luke’s middle daughter Daisy’s voice from somewhere behind the crowd in the kitchen. He walked toward it and found her seated on the floor, the dog’s head in her lap. Daisy had always had a way with animals.

As much as it was possible for a basset to look anything but deeply saddened by life, the dog had an expression of bliss on her face as Daisy stroked her ears.

Molly was lying on a blanket. A blanket Adam recognized from his childhood. A blanket he was very fond of.

“That’s my blanket,” he couldn’t help saying, and turned accusingly to his mother.

She flapped the spatula at him and said, “You haven’t used that in years. So I’ve given it to Molly. She needs it more than you.”

“I might have wanted to use it,” he muttered. It was the principle of the thing. He mightn’t have used the blanket for more than twenty years, but it was a well-worn and much-loved childhood companion, and for some stupid reason he felt a sense of possessiveness about it. It sure as hell didn’t deserve to be used as a dog blanket.

“It’s Molly’s now,” Daisy piped up.

His oldest brother, Luke, who ran the family ranch, pressed him down into one of the vacated chairs at the table that occupied the huge country-style kitchen. The table easily sat ten, twelve at a pinch, and today people were rotating chairs as they finished breakfast and made way for the next shift.

He took his seat—beside Carly—and studied the occupants of the kitchen. Although heavily pregnant, Luke’s wife, Megan, was helping his mom prepare and serve. Luke’s oldest daughter, Sasha, was talking to Will’s stepson, Nick, while Celeste, Luke’s youngest, was chatting animatedly with the little girl who’d thanked him before. The two boys who belonged to Carly were bolting down second helpings of oatmeal like they hadn’t been fed in a week. Maybe they hadn’t, Adam decided. Their apartment wasn’t exactly in the town’s high-rent district.

And where was their father? he wanted to ask, not for the first time. Shouldn’t he be taking care of his family?

“Where’s your husband?” Adam blurted, before he could stop himself.

Silence descended on the kitchen and Adam wished the floor would open up.

She looked back at him with a frankness that was daunting and said, “He’s dead.”

CARLY SPENCER TOOK GRIM satisfaction in watching Adam O’Malley’s discomfort as he swallowed her answer and half hoped he’d choke on it. She’d already told Adam’s family that her husband, Michael, was a firefighter who’d perished in a warehouse fire in San Diego. She’d been seven months pregnant with Charlie at the time.

And now she felt bad about her bald statement. She, of all people, having been married to a firefighter, should’ve been more circumspect. But something perverse had made her answer his question as rudely as it had been asked.

What was it with this guy? He had the nicest, most welcoming family, but he was so emotionally distant, it was almost scary.

He’d done the bravest thing yesterday, not only rescuing her son Charlie but defying his battalion chief’s orders and saving Molly. Yet when she’d tried to thank him, he’d been so offhand it bordered on arrogant.

She’d wanted to call him on his behavior, but there was something in Adam O’Malley’s dark brown eyes that spoke of a hurt far greater than Carly suspected he ever revealed to others. So instead of challenging him further, she asked, “Would you like some bacon?” and passed the plate to him without waiting for his answer.

His mother came up behind him and scooped scrambled eggs onto his plate, kissing the top of his head as she did.

Carly didn’t miss the deep blush beneath his tan. That was interesting, the relationship between him and his mom. She got the feeling Sarah irritated him at times. Like now. She was bent over him from behind, hugging him.

“Mom. Please?” he murmured.

“I’m just so happy to have you home. And alive,” his mom said, and kissed the top of his head again before releasing him. The guy was clearly embarrassed by his mother’s display of affection. Sarah, however, seemed to revel in exasperating—if that was the right word—her youngest son, as if she was deliberately trying to provoke a reaction.

She returned with the coffeepot and poured Adam a cup, then went to put cream in it. He took the jug from her hand and murmured, “I can do it myself, Mom.”

“Of course you can, darling,” she said, totally unfazed, “but you’re a hero, and I intend to make you feel like one.”

Carly noticed that her own sons, sitting across the table from them, were transfixed by the exchange. To diffuse their interest, she said, “I don’t believe you’ve been properly introduced to my children. The one who caused you so much trouble yesterday is Alex and the one beside him who’s eating as if he hasn’t been fed in a week is Jake. My daughter is Madeleine. And this little guy,” she said, indicating her youngest, sitting on her lap, “is Charlie.”

Charlie, far from being grateful to his savior, chose that moment to flick a spoonful of oatmeal at Adam. Then he laughed.

TO HIS CREDIT, ADAM didn’t leap from his seat or demand an apology. Instead, he wiped the oatmeal from his cheek with his finger, then wiped his finger on his napkin. “It’s gratifying to be reminded of what the public thinks of we who serve them,” he said, and dug into his eggs.

Will patted him gently on the back. “That’s the spirit, buddy. Nothing like some creative criticism to bring you back to earth. Can’t have you walking around the ranch with a head bigger than a black Angus bull.”

Luke laughed from where he stood beside the kitchen range and raised his coffee mug in agreement.

Carly liked the oldest of the O’Malley brothers. Hey, she liked them all. She was trying to like Adam, too, but he wasn’t exactly making it easy for her. What’s his problem? she wondered.

He was eating in silence. Probably trying to ignore her. Well, that was fine because she didn’t want to make conversation with him, either.

She sipped her coffee, savoring the richness of the blend—a far cry from the budget brand she usually drank. Various conversations flowed around the kitchen and she caught snippets of them and smiled. Maddy and Celeste seemed to have hit it off. They were both in first grade but in different classes and hadn’t met each other before. Carly liked Celeste. She was an angelic-looking child with a sweet temperament and outgoing personality. Maddy was more withdrawn, but Celeste seemed to have struck a chord with her as they shared a love of drawing. The pair were presently giggling over pictures they’d drawn of Adam.

Carly wanted to see how he’d react to them and asked, “What have you got there, Maddy?”

Her daughter held up the picture. She’d given Adam curly, dark brown hair and a smiley face. Carly glanced at Adam. His hair was indeed dark brown, but cut so short, it was hard to determine if there was any curl in it.

Then Celeste held up her picture. She’d given Adam even curlier and longer hair. The child apparently knew her uncle well enough to have done that. However, instead of a smiley face, Adam’s expression was angry.

“Why did you draw your uncle looking so annoyed?” she asked Celeste.

“He’s not. He’s thinking,” the child corrected her. “He frowns when he thinks. Like he is now.” Celeste indicated her uncle with a flick of her head, bit into a bagel her father had smeared with cream cheese and honey and went back to her drawing.

An odd combination, Carly thought as Celeste wolfed it down. She turned to Adam. Sure enough, he was frowning. But he was miles away and not part of the conversation, nor had he seemed to notice the girls’ drawings of him.

“A penny for them,” she ventured, wanting to make friends with the man who’d saved her son’s life.

“What?” he said, coming out of his reverie.

“You were deep in thought,” she said. “If your back is bothering you, I’d be happy to give you a massage. It’s the least I can do.”

He put down his coffee cup and looked at her. “Thank you, but no.” He stood. “I have to be going. There’ll be a disciplinary meeting because I ignored my chief’s orders,” he said to the room’s occupants.

“And saved Molly,” Carly finished for him, knowing he’d never say the words himself. “I hope you don’t get into too much trouble. If there’s anything I can say to whoever you have to answer to, I will. I’ll testify that Alex would have run into that building to get her if you hadn’t.”

“I doubt a kid would be any match for a firefighter,” he said, his voice sardonic, then abruptly left the kitchen.

The rest of the adults had taken their seats at the table and were looking at her.

“I … I’m sorry, I don’t know what I said to make him leave like that.”

Sarah leaned over and touched her hand. “Don’t pay any attention to him, dear.”

She didn’t go on to excuse his behavior or explain it, so Carly busied herself with clearing the table. “I wanted to thank you again … for welcoming my children and me into your home.” Carly could feel her voice breaking, but she continued, hoping to find the strength she needed.

She could do it. She’d survived her husband, Michael’s, accidental death. She’d survived this past year and a half without her parents’ support or knowledge of how bad things were for her financially.

Her dad had suffered a stroke early last year and Carly had no intention of burdening him or her mother with her latest woes. They had enough to deal with.

She could survive the aftermath of this fire and start fresh. Just like she had before.

She’d used Michael’s insurance money to pay off their house in San Diego. And to pay off his credit card debts, which had been considerable. His fascination with the latest toys—from snowmobiles to Jet Skis, Windsurfers to water skis—had been a bone of contention in their marriage. Carly hadn’t realized how tangled their finances were until she opened the bills addressed to Michael after his death.

Once she’d paid off the mortgage, she’d felt more secure, knowing that no matter what, her children would always have a roof over their heads. But less than a year after doing that, Carly had wanted to get out of San Diego. Not so much to escape the memories but to escape the unwanted attentions of Michael’s best friend and fellow firefighter, Jerry Ryan.

Jerry had been a wonderful support after Michael’s death, but his behavior had become too familiar, bordering on obsessive, and Carly had felt trapped. She’d decided to move away from San Diego, the memories—and Jerry.

She’d rented out her home, effective January 1, intending to live off the rent and her work as a massage therapist.

Neither her parents nor Jerry were happy with her decision to move out of the state, but Carly remained resolute.

Offered a job at a new spa hotel opening in Denver, she’d accepted. She and the children had spent Christmas with her parents, then moved to the Mile High City a week before the hotel was slated to open in the new year. She’d enrolled her children in school and paid the security deposit to rent an apartment near work. But the day before opening, the hotel was firebombed. Fortunately, nobody had died, and both police and press speculated that organized crime had been responsible.

To Carly’s immense gratitude, her new landlord had been compassionate about her situation and come up with a solution. He owned an apartment building in the mountain town of Spruce Lake. In the summer it would be demolished and a new complex built in its place, but in the meantime, he had a vacancy available. If she could find herself a job in Spruce Lake, the apartment was hers. He assured her he could easily fill the vacancy in the Denver apartment she’d be leaving.

Carly had jumped at the opportunity, knowing that resort towns were often in need of massage therapists. She had her own massage table and could supplement her income by offering massages to people in the privacy of their homes.

Nearly two months had passed since that fateful day in Denver. Carly hadn’t told her parents about the firebombing and her move to Spruce Lake; she hadn’t wanted to worry them. Instead, she’d been upbeat in her emails and Skype calls.

And there was another reason she hadn’t wanted to come clean about her move. She knew Jerry kept in touch with her folks. She didn’t want him to learn where she was.

Her children had settled into Spruce Lake Elementary and were loving it. Carly liked the warmth of the community and was gradually building a client base of locals and tourists. Charlie went to daycare a couple of days a week while Carly worked. She also did a few shifts at the local spa. Finding a reliable after-school sitter for the children on the days she had to work hadn’t been too difficult—until yesterday.

If she could have replayed yesterday, she’d never have left her children with a sitter she didn’t know. And if Sarah O’Malley hadn’t come to their rescue, Carly had no idea what she could’ve done. The O’Malleys were the kindest, most giving people she’d ever met.

But the raw anger, the fear and desperation she’d experienced when she realized Charlie was missing still ate at her.

“You’ve been so … generous … and we don’t …” she started to say, but then the floodgates opened. The tears she’d held so tightly in check after the fire, the emotions she’d suppressed all through the endless night, flowed.

Conscious that she was making a complete fool of herself, Carly blubbered an apology. But warm arms enveloped her and Carly turned to cry on the offered shoulder, finding it was Mac who’d silently reentered the kitchen.

“There, there,” she heard Sarah say. “Let it all out, dear. You’ve been holding it in, being brave for too long.”

Sarah was right; she had been holding it in, putting on a brave face for her kids, and now that they’d left the room, she’d fallen apart.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Mac, lifting her head and seeing the huge damp patch on his shirt. A wad of tissues got shoved into her hand and she tried to staunch her running nose and wipe at her eyes. Mac rubbed her back in soothing circles and said, “You lean on me all you want, Carly.”

Carly sobbed at the warmth and compassion in his voice and wished her father could be there for her.

When she’d composed herself a little, she looked up into Mac’s eyes and in a vulnerable moment admitted she wished her father was there. And then she wished she could take back her words, because they were too revealing. It was too much to admit to these people who until last night were strangers.

Megan hugged Mac as well, and said, “I wish I’d had a dad like Mac. I’m so glad I married Luke.”

Grateful for Megan’s lifeline, Carly wondered what Megan’s family history had been for her to make a remark like that.

“Let’s not overdo it!” When Mac finally managed to struggle out of their embrace, he was blushing. Molly got up from her blanket and came over to nudge his leg, whimpering as if in agreement. “Women!” he muttered good-naturedly, grabbed his hat and took off out the back door.

Sarah chuckled and said, “I think the estrogen overload was getting to him.”

Megan smiled, dabbing at her eyes. “He needs to get used to it. He has a wife, three daughters-in-law and five granddaughters.”

That broke the remaining tension in the room and the rest of the occupants laughed.

“Women!” This came from Luke and Megan’s son, Cody, whom Carly had learned was the result of a holiday romance Luke and Megan had had sixteen years earlier. They’d only recently been reunited and still acted like newlyweds. Sasha, Daisy and Celeste were by Luke’s ex-wife—the mention of whom had caused Sarah’s lips to purse and Luke to change the subject.

Carly hadn’t quite got all the family relationships sorted out, but they were gradually falling into place.

Like his grandfather, Cody grabbed his hat and headed out the back door.

“I agree with them,” Luke said. “There are way too many women around here.” He kissed his wife and removed his hat from the peg near the back door, then followed his father and son out to start work.

“I’d better check in with the office,” Matt said, standing.

Jack glanced at his watch. “And I have an appointment with Frank Farquar. Seems the mayor wants me to build a stronger porch swing for Louella.”

“Louella?” Carly asked.

“The mayor’s pet pig,” Will explained. “She was hanging around with me at the fire. I’ll introduce you sometime.”

The brothers said their goodbyes, leaving Carly and Sarah alone in the kitchen. Carly stood, ready to clean up, but Sarah indicated she should sit.

She took a seat opposite Carly, poured more coffee and said, “Now, tell me, dear, how I can help?”

“You’ve done so much for us already. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.” Sarah had produced clothes and pajamas for her children last night, since they’d had only the clothes they were standing in. Carly appreciated how Sarah did everything without fuss, saving her children from any further distress. If it had been her own mother in similar circumstances, it would’ve felt as if Carly was swept up in a tornado. Carly’s mom thrived on drama. It was one of the reasons she hadn’t turned to them after Michael’s death. And now that her dad was ill, there was no way Carly would even think of adding to his problems.

“Dear, I know you lost everything in that fire. I’m pretty sure the only possession you have left is your vehicle, and that got so much water damage parked where it was, it’ll take a while to get fixed.”

Carly nodded. She needed her minivan for work. Not that she had a job anymore since her mobile massage table was destroyed in the fire. She wished she’d had it in her van, but she’d left it upstairs because Mrs. Polinski had booked a massage after Carly’s appointments at the spa. And now she’d inherited the Polinskis’ dog.

Yesterday as they were loaded into the ambulance, Mrs. Polinski had asked Carly to look after Molly while they were in the hospital, but as of this morning, Molly was homeless. When Carly had called the hospital to find out how they were doing, she’d been put through to Mrs. Polinski, who’d been very upset that they’d be moving back east with their son and daughter-in-law. Apparently, their son’s wife didn’t want Molly coming with them. The old lady was understandably upset about Molly, and Carly promised to see what she could do. Unfortunately, Mrs. Polinski had misunderstood and thought Carly was adopting the dog.

So now it looked as if Molly belonged to her. Could her life get any more complicated? Oh, yeah, it could. Molly was due to be spayed the week after next and she’d just bet that hadn’t been prepaid!

Although Carly had no possessions left in Spruce Lake, at least she had her precious children. And that was all that mattered. From what she’d been able to glean talking to the babysitter afterward, there’d been a tremendous explosion that shook the building, followed shortly after by one of the other residents screaming, “Fire!” Then all hell had broken loose.

Tiffany had grabbed the three oldest children and fled down the stairs, just as Carly had pulled up outside the building. When Carly had asked her where Charlie was, she admitted she’d forgotten all about him. Carly forced the memory of that horrible moment out of her mind and told herself, Charlie is fine. Your children are all fine. You will get through this.

“I have nothing left,” Carly said. “I hadn’t gotten around to taking out insurance on our possessions.” Meager as they were, she added silently.

“I feel so overwhelmed! I don’t know how I’m going to get my business going again.” She fought the tears that threatened. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t get her anywhere. She needed to find some money to buy a new massage table and start earning again. She’d resented Michael for spending their savings on frivolous toys she’d had to sell for a tenth of their value when he’d died. And now she’d been just as reckless by not insuring their possessions.

“So you don’t have any savings?” Sarah asked.

Carly took a deep breath. She’d already told Sarah about her dad’s stroke and how she didn’t want to burden her parents.

“There’ve been too many bills to pay lately, what with moving costs, getting established in the apartment, paying for utilities—it all costs money.”

Afraid the older woman would see her as a loser for not having saved anything, she quickly added, “But I have a home in San Diego. It’s rented out. When my husband died I used the insurance money to pay off the mortgage and our credit card debts. Then …” Carly didn’t want to go into why she’d decided to leave San Diego, didn’t want to talk about Jerry Ryan getting too possessive of her. She’d tried letting him down nicely, but it had become very uncomfortable. In the end she’d used the excuse that she needed to get out of San Diego, to start her life anew.

“Unfortunately, the global financial crisis meant I couldn’t sell the house for anything near what we paid for it. So I decided to rent it out and relocate. The rent helps with my expenses for now, but there’s not much left over once all the bills are paid. In a few years, when the real estate market’s recovered, I’ll sell it and buy something here—if I can afford to.”

Sarah’s smile lit up the room. “So you like Spruce Lake? In spite of the fire?”

“I love it. My children are happy at school, even though we’ve been here such a short time. And Spruce Lake is delightful. It has everything I could ask for.”

“I’m so glad you like our little town. I fell in love with it, too, on my first visit with Mac.”

“I’d like to get established in my own business here, build up a good client base, but without a massage table, I’m going to have to cancel the appointments I had booked for next week.” Carly brushed her hair back and said, “Well, I guess I’d better get cleaned up and make an appointment with the bank manager. Plead with him to lend me enough to buy a new one so I can get started again.”

“That’s the spirit!” Sarah said, lifting Carly’s own spirits immensely. “I like the way you think, Carly.”

“I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve done so much for me. You’re a godsend,” Carly said. “In fact, last night I woke up and wondered if I was dreaming. Not about the fire, but about how kind you were. How safe you made me feel.”

Sarah rewarded her with another smile. “You’re welcome, dear. Now, you go see if you can get an appointment today. I’ll clean up here.”

“Oh, no, you don’t! Look at this place! It’s a disaster.”

Sarah glanced around. “True,” she agreed. “But I like it that way. Makes me feel needed. You run along.” She made shooing motions. “I’ll have the girls help me clean up. You don’t mind if I rope Maddy in, do you? That’s how they earn their allowance.”

“What a good idea. I’d get the boys to help, too, but they seem to have taken off to watch Luke with the horses.” She could see her boys through the kitchen window, sitting on the corral fence as Luke worked with a horse.

“They’ll get their turn,” Sarah assured her. She took Charlie from Carly’s arms and sat him in a high chair, then gave him a piece of toast. “He’ll be fine here with me. And if you have to go into town this morning, I’ll watch the children.”

Carly was about to say “thank you” yet again when Sarah held up her hand. “I know. I know,” she said. “Carly, it’s my pleasure. I love having this house full of people. Now, off you go.”

CARLY WENT INTO THE living room, looked up her bank’s number and called using the house phone. She’d been in such a panic that she’d left her cell phone in her minivan when she’d leaped out. It was too water damaged to ever work again.

Five minutes later, Carly’s hopes had been completely dashed. After she explained the situation to her bank manager, he’d refused her a loan. Since she hadn’t applied for a credit card, not wanting to be hit with high interest rates if she was late with payments and with the memory of the debt Michael had built up so easily, Carly only had a debit card. But there was barely enough in her account to buy a pair of warm winter boots for herself to replace those she’d lost in the fire. She wore clean white tennis shoes to her spa appointments, wanting to look professional and be comfortable. But tennis shoes were useless for walking in snow and ice, and since it was winter, she’d be doing a lot of that.

Carly sat on the sofa, bit her lip and forced herself not to cry. How many more things could go wrong with her life? As if sensing her melancholy, Molly waddled into the room and curled up on Carly’s feet. Carly reached down to rub the dog’s ears. “Poor girl, you’re missing your owners, aren’t you?” she asked, then jumped as a wad of money was thrust under her nose.

She stared at it, bewildered.

“Take it,” Adam said gruffly.

“I … I can’t do that.”

“Yeah. You can. I heard your half of the conversation. You need it more than I do.”

Carly shook her head and glanced up at Adam. “Thank you, but no. I’ll find some way to get my business up and running again without accepting charity.”

“Then give me a massage and I’ll pay for it.”

“I don’t have a table,” she pointed out.

He shrugged and proffered the money again. “So go buy a table with this and then pay me back with a massage.”

Carly couldn’t help smiling at his logic. “You’re talking a lot of massages!”

“I’ve got a feeling I’ll need them after I’ve met with my supervisors today.”

Remembering the conversation before Adam had come downstairs this morning—his family was concerned about disciplinary action for disobeying his battalion chief’s orders—she said, “I … I hope it goes well for you, Adam. What you did was nothing short of heroic.” Her eyes filled with tears and she dashed them away. “I’m sorry I’m being so emotional. I’m not usually this weepy, but when I think of what might’ve happened to Charlie if you hadn’t found him. And Molly, she’s such a sweet dog … I … can’t … help … it.”

“Yeah. Well,” he said, scratched Molly’s head and left the room.

His sudden departure shocked Carly so much that she stopped crying. Must get more control of emotions! she told herself, and looked up. Adam had left the wad of notes on the coffee table.

She took them to the kitchen.

Sarah heard her entering, turned around and smiled. “How’d it go?” she asked.

“I, ah,” Carly faltered, and held out the notes to Sarah.

“Goodness! That was quick,” the older woman quipped. “Did he send you that through the phone line?” she asked with a grin.

“Quite the contrary. My ex–bank manager doesn’t want anything to do with me. Adam gave me this, but I can’t accept it.”

Sarah’s eyebrows rose. “And you told him so?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“He said I can work off the debt with massages.”

“Who said that?” Megan asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Carly’s bank manager won’t let her have a loan to get her business up and running again, so Adam’s given her an advance payment for services to be rendered. That way she can buy a massage table,” Sarah explained. She rubbed her shoulders. “Hmm. I think I need to prepurchase a ten-pack of massages. Do you do discounts for friends?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“You know perfectly well I wouldn’t consider charging you,” Carly said, and wagged her finger at Sarah.

“Then you can charge me,” Megan said. “I’ve heard prenatal massages are wonderful for expectant moms.”

“They are,” Carly agreed. “But I couldn’t charge you, either! You’ve already given me half your wardrobe,” she said, referring to Megan’s generous offer of clothes.

“I won’t be able to fit into them for a while yet, so you’re welcome.” Megan brushed off her concerns. “Now, when can I book my first massage?”

“As soon as I can get a table,” Carly said, shaking the money at her.

“Can you buy one locally?” Sarah asked. “If not, we could make a run down to Denver.” She glanced at Megan. “After all, I have a nursery to furnish for my next grandchild, and although I like to buy locally, there are a few things I can’t get up here.”

“True!” Megan said, her face lighting up. “I feel a shopping trip coming on!”

Carly wished she could join in with their enthusiasm, but she simply didn’t have the funds. She hadn’t counted the money Adam had given her, but there couldn’t be enough for a massage table, could there?

“You look worried,” Sarah said. “If you can’t buy a table around here, I really did mean we could take a trip to Denver.”

Carly forced a smile into her voice and said, “Let me make a few calls, and if I can’t buy one here today, I’ll take you up on that.”

Megan pulled out her cell and said, “You know, I think the other women in my prenatal class would love to sign up for some treatments with you.”

“So would the ladies in my quilting group,” Sarah chimed in. She, too, pulled out her cell. “Let’s all meet back here in half an hour and see what we’ve come up with.”