Читать книгу Man of His Word - Cynthia Reese - Страница 12

CHAPTER THREE

“YOU’RE SURE YOU don’t mind waiting?” Kimberly asked Marissa as they sat on the front bench in front of the fire station. They’d passed some of the time in the chief’s office, but the cramped confines had seemed to make Marissa more restless, so Kimberly had suggested a change of scene. “The secretary said that it could take a while.”

“I wish I could have gone with them!” Marissa enthused. “You know, see them cut the car up. Mrs. Karen—” she jabbed a finger back toward the station and the secretary’s office “—she said they had to use the Jaws of Life. Man, wouldn’t that be cool, Mom? To see them save somebody’s life?”

Kimberly shuddered. She’d already picked up enough of the garbled radio traffic to understand that the woman driver was in critical condition and that the extrication was taking longer than Daniel had anticipated.

No, when she thought about the accident, all Kimberly could picture was Marissa trapped in that car, critically injured, dying—it could have been them on that very interstate. She shook herself and purposefully focused her mind away from the grim vision and onto appreciating her good fortune.

Maybe they should leave and come back. Daniel would likely be tired and not in the mood for pesky questions when he returned. And wouldn’t he have loads of paperwork? She needed him to be as cooperative as possible so that she could pick up any facts that might lead her to Marissa’s birth mother. It was important.

No. She thought again about that woman trapped in the car. It was critical to find Marissa’s birth mother.

“Maybe I could be a firefighter, huh, Mom?” Beside her, Marissa bounced with excitement. “It’s a rush, don’t you think? I mean, you’re sitting here, or maybe washing the truck, and then, boom! You’ve got to fight a fire or get somebody out of a building—”

Kimberly didn’t say the first thing that popped into her mind as Marissa burbled on. She didn’t point out, not even gently, that there was no way a doctor would ever approve Marissa for a job as risky as a firefighter...or a police officer or a soldier or astronaut—any of the adrenaline-buzzing careers that Marissa gravitated toward. Maybe her daughter said she wanted to be those things because Kimberly had pointed out that they just weren’t possible—and not because she was a girl, but because...

The rumble of the fire engine around the curve tugged her thoughts back to Daniel.

He did look weary when he slid out of the cab of the truck. His face was smeared with soot, his turnout jacket loosened to reveal a grimy white T-shirt.

“You’re still here,” he observed as his boots hit the concrete driveway.

“Yeah, you said— We waited.” Now Kimberly was doubly uncertain about her decision. “But we can come back. I expect you’re tired and you—”

“Hey, Chief! Did you save her?” Marissa interjected. “Is she okay? The woman in the car?”

“They airlifted her to Macon. I think she’s got a good shot.” Daniel’s face brightened as he shifted to face Marissa.

“That is so cool! I wish I could have been there!”

“You sound like my niece. She’s determined to be a firefighter when she grows up. Gives my mother a heart attack every time she mentions it.”

Kimberly couldn’t help but admire the way Daniel was so patient and careful with Marissa. Maybe the fact that he had a niece explained it? Or maybe...maybe he still felt a connection with the baby girl he’d saved all those years ago?

“Should we come back?” Kimberly asked him, trying to gauge his willingness to talk with them.

He shook his head. “No. No, you’ve waited all this time. But can I have a few minutes to grab a shower? You wouldn’t want to be cooped up with me in my condition right now.”

Marissa spoke up again. “Can I help your firefighters some way? I mean, you’ve got to get things cleaned or organized or...something, right?”

Daniel chuckled, and Kimberly tried not to roll her eyes. This was the same girl who thought unloading the dishwasher every morning was equivalent to torture.

“Sure.” He called over his shoulder to a firefighter—a woman, Kimberly noted. “Bobbi, show this probie how to check the hoses.”

“You got it, Chief,” Bobbi told him.

Then he turned to Kimberly. “Five minutes? You can wait in my office if you’d like.”

It was more like ten minutes when he joined Kimberly. His hair was damp and curling, a droplet of water still clinging to the lock that brushed his forehead, but he looked less tired and more refreshed.

“Now, where were we? Oh, yeah, the picture.” He picked up the photo, which Kimberly had placed on his desk after his hasty departure.

“Can I—can I get a copy of this?” Kimberly asked him. “It’s a gorgeous photo. I’d love to have one, that is, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” He nodded, and the droplet of water on his dark hair flew off. “I can scan it and email it to you, or I can go over to Walmart and get a copy made. How long are you going to be in town?”

“Er...that depends. We’re trying to track down Marissa’s birth mother. So if we can find her and talk with her, then we’ll probably be leaving fairly soon.”

“Oh, no. You...” Daniel worked his mouth, as if he was choosing his words carefully.

“I mean, you can tell us, right? Where to find her?” Kimberly scooted to the edge of the hard plastic chair, her stomach full of fluttering anxiety.

“She’s been in touch with you?” Daniel asked instead of giving her the positive answer she had been hoping for.

“No. We knew about this place...and you...” She swept a hand to encompass the fire station. “And it was the only real clue we had, so we started here.”

“I’m afraid this is a dead end, then,” Daniel told her. “I can’t tell you any more than I already have. I did tell you that I didn’t know your daughter’s birth mother. Didn’t I?”

“You said that, but... I mean, if you thought back, you could remember details. And surely she mentioned her name.” Kimberly hated the way her voice went up a half octave, that she was practically begging.

Daniel did a double take. His next words were loaded with patient forbearance that somehow managed to irk Kimberly even more than if he’d snapped at her. “Look, I know you’ve come all this way—I guess it’s a long way?”

“Atlanta. We live in Sandy Springs, actually.”

“Yeah, that’s, what? Two and a half, three hours?” At her nod, he went on, “Yeah, a bit of a road trip. Like I was saying, you’ve come all this way, but I don’t think I can help you. I’ve pretty much told you what I can.”

“No. No, I’m sure there’s more,” Kimberly insisted. “Like what she looked like, or how you remembered what sort of car she was driving, and maybe she told you something that would help us locate her? And her parents? I mean, she was sixteen, she had to have parents—” Kimberly’s throat, thick with emotion, closed up on her and she couldn’t go on.

Daniel rubbed his mouth. He fingered the photo of him and Marissa as an infant. Kimberly could see him weigh a decision in his mind.

“Kimberly—may I call you Kimberly?” When she nodded, he continued, “I realize the not knowing is probably tough on the both of you. But have you really thought through whether this is a good idea?”

Now Kimberly’s alarm turned to anger. “A good idea? My daughter desperately needs to find out about her birth mother—and anything she can about her medical history. She has a—a—” Again she choked on her words. She worked through her emotions, trying not to be the stereotypical hysterical female that would be all too easy for Daniel to dismiss.

Daniel sat back in his chair, his eyes focused on her with unwavering attention. Sounds of the firefighters working to restore equipment filtered into his office, but he said nothing while he waited on her to compose herself. She appreciated that. He didn’t rush her. She was sure he had loads to do, and this was his day off, after all, but she could sense no impatience on his part.

“So...I take it,” he said finally, “this isn’t just idle curiosity, this reason you’re searching for Marissa’s birth mother? Because, I have to tell you, state law says her birth mother should remain anonymous. That’s the deal—healthy baby surrendered in a safe and approved way in exchange for anonymity and no child-endangerment charges.”

Kimberly let out a breath. Did he need a good reason to give her the information? Well, she had a jam-up one.

“No, it’s not just idle curiosity. Not at all,” she said. “Marissa has a life-threatening bleeding disorder, and her hem/onc—her hematologist-oncologist team in Atlanta—need to know everything they can. So please, please, any scrap you could give us, any way that we could track down her birth mother... It could mean the difference between life or death for Marissa.”