Читать книгу Rescued by the Firefighter - Gail Gaymer Martin - Страница 11

Chapter Two

“How was the honeymoon?” Clint gave Devon a wink as he strolled to his locker to slip into his work gear.

Devon arched his eyebrow, a silly taunt on his face. “Were you worried?”

“Not one bit. I knew you were in good hands.” Clint gave him a thumbs-up. “Ashley can handle you.” More than a week had passed since the wedding, and while he’d missed seeing Devon at the fire station, he’d found Paula on his mind more than his good friend.

“You’re right, Ashley’s amazing.” Devon turned to face him. “In all seriousness, the longer I’ve known her the more I admire her and the more I love her.”

Clint’s chest tightened, picturing Paula and what he liked about her. He’d be happy to see the end of his worries about trusting again so he could take steps to form a friendship with her. After the incident with Elise, his motto had become “Get hurt once but not twice.”

“Seriously, though, the honeymoon was wonderful. I had never been on a cruise, and the Caribbean is beautiful—scenery and summer weather.” He took an imaginary key and locked his lips. “But enough yakking. I’ll have photos and you can see for yourself.”

“Can’t wait.”

Devon’s expression let Clint know he’d recognized his playful sarcasm. But for once, Devon was wrong. Clint had never cruised, either, and wouldn’t unless he had someone with him to share the experience. He really wanted to see the photos.

Devon’s locker door clanged shut, and Clint’s mind snapped back to his task. As he slipped into his work gear, he reflected on what he’d really wanted to know from Devon. Had he seen Paula since he’d been back or had Ashley said anything about Paula mentioning him?

Though he’d had a great time with her and thought she’d enjoyed his company, too, he’d hesitated asking to see her again. His hesitation made him want to kick himself. But Paula made him uncertain. She seemed to have built a wall and stepped behind it. If he moved too fast, he could easily find the barricade a permanent shield.

And then he posed a question to himself. What did he want from her? A relationship hadn’t been a priority for years. Involvement sometimes led to marriage, and he wasn’t positive he wanted to marry. At thirty-seven, he liked being stuck in his own ways, and marriage meant making changes, adjusting to someone else’s likes and dislikes.

Clint closed his locker and strode in for roll call before digesting and discussing the information passed on by the previous shift. Devon, the on-duty lieutenant, listed the tasks each of the crew would be responsible for, and when he finished, Clint headed into the equipment room to assess the gear he might need during the day.

As he checked off the equipment assigned to him, Devon appeared at his side. “We’re having a little party Friday night for the wedding attendants and a few others. All the women want to see our gifts and the photos, so we thought it would be fun. I hope you can come. We’ll have pizza. It’s casual.”

As if he’d been invited to an audience with Queen Elizabeth, Clint felt his pulse take off in a gallop. He monitored his zealous reactions. “Sounds great. I’ll be there.”

Devon squeezed his arm and moved on to his duties while Clint stood a moment to deal with the unbelievable reaction he’d experienced, particularly assuming Paula would be there. If he couldn’t control his emotions better than that he needed to go into hiding. He’d prided himself on being a staunch, capable firefighter who could handle a life-and-death job every day. Emotions were locked tight so his mind could make the quick decisions that each dire situation needed.

What had happened to that skill today?

He shook his head and turned his mind on the training session and the next tour of the firehouse he would lead. School would be out soon, and one of the treats for elementary children was visiting the fire station. This duty shone as one of his favorites. He’d always loved kids and, sometimes, never having children of his own hurt worse than the day his marriage plans died.

Though his heart had healed, he couldn’t help thinking about Elise. What had driven her away? What had changed her mind about their marriage?

Dumb questions, and what difference did the answers make? He needed closure, he sensed, like people did with a shocking death. Those who grieved always pondered what had happened or what they could have done to make a difference.

He had looked back on the situation and had come to the realization she’d fallen for someone else. Probably the jerk in her office she talked about so much. He’d been married, and at the time, he’d dismissed the possibility. But marriage didn’t mean as much to some people as it did to him. Vows were made and God blessed marriages. To him, marriage meant forever.

* * *

Paula crumpled into one of her uncle’s easy chairs and rubbed her temples. She’d had another job interview, which again left her with a hopeless feeling. Though she had the numerous skills they’d listed, she didn’t have experience with their software program. Then, another strike against her appeared to be her newness to the area. When they looked at her résumé, they noticed she hadn’t worked a few months before her mother died. She’d been her caregiver. Work had been impossible.

Most businesses looked for someone with stick-to-itiveness and experience, but if no one would give her a chance, how could she get the experience? Another one of these conundrums that made no sense but seemed to be prevalent in the world of business.

The back door opened, and Paula pulled up her shoulders. Though five foot nine, today she felt a lot shorter. She needed to lift her head and face her uncle with confidence. He always wanted details of her job hunt, and she wanted to sound positive even though she wasn’t.

Ashley swung around the archway, and when she saw Paula instead of her uncle, a grin flew to her face.

“Home from the hunt?” Ashley said.

“The fox found a hiding place today.”

“No luck?” Ashley sank onto the sofa. “You’ll find something. I’m confident. I’m keeping my eyes and ears open, and I’m sure something will come your way.”

Paula nodded, managing an upbeat expression. “I know. Job hunting takes time.”

The side door closed, and her uncle’s voice sailed into the room. “A job well done.”

She had no idea what he meant, but she hoped it had nothing to do with her employment status.

He ambled into the living room and stood near the archway. “Did she tell you?”

Paula looked at him and then turned back to Ashley, not sure who he meant.

“Dad, you’re more excited than I am.” She grinned at Paula. “I decided to sell my house. Dad helped me make sense out of what I really knew was best but what was hard for me to do.”

“Selling the house.” Paula nodded, understanding her quandary. “I know it holds lots of memories, Ash. Good memories.” Her own mother’s home came to mind. That house held no memories she wanted to preserve. “But you’re making new memories now, and it’s best to let it go.”

“You’ve all made sense. I thought renting it would work, but then Dad reminded me of the difficulties in renting a residence—maintenance, repairs and bad tenants. It hardly seems worth it even though the house is only down the street and Devon would have helped, but—”

“It would be asking a lot of him to keep two houses in good order. When would you two have time for fun?” Paula looked past her uncle, noticing the two children were missing. “Where are Joey and Kaylee?”

“Neely wanted to take them to the park.” Her mouth curved to a full grin. “I’m so happy Neely’s expecting. She and Jon wanted a baby from day one, and now she’ll have her own little Joey or Kaylee to spoil.”

Though her cousins’ happiness made her smile, part of her envied Ashley and Devon’s big steps into marriage plus becoming a parent to each other’s child, especially now that Kaylee’s troubled mother had died from an overdose. It had been hard on Kaylee, but her awareness of her mother’s illness and unhappiness had softened the sad situation.

Marriage had not made Paula’s list of desires, so the question of being a parent rarely entered her mind, but when it did, it sometimes stopped her cold, asking herself if she could be a good parent without having a role model. One thing she knew. Love was the key to so many things in life, and how could she not show love to a child? Ashley’s love for Joey and Kaylee, Devon’s daughter, guided her cousin’s every step, and Devon had an amazing natural knack for being a thoughtful and loving father to both children. They had become her parental role models. Late in her life to learn, yes, but she knew no one better.

Ashley had grown silent a moment, a frown settling on her face, and Paula didn’t understand the problem. Paula turned to her uncle, wondering if he had something to clue her in.

Finally, Ashley came back to life. “Sorry. I know this is the right thing to do, but I love that house and it’s hard to let go. Believe me, it’s not just my memories of Adam. It’s where I realized that I had the strength to stand up under pressure, where I learned to be a loving single mother and still hold a job, and where I awakened beneath the tree branches one day and looked into Devon’s face, a neighbor I’d seen but never met. That day changed my life.”

Paula brushed moisture from her eyes, no longer trying to hide it. “You’re right, Ash. The house has a wealth of amazing memories. One day, I hope to have a...” Before she could finish her sentence, an idea struck her. She needed a place to live, and owning a house would provide a sense of permanence to a possible employer, but more than that she loved Ashley’s comfortable house and felt certain it had more than enough space for her.

When she refocused, Ashley’s curious look caused her to confess her idea. “I have a thought.”

“A good thought?” Ashley’s tentative response made Paula grin.

“Very good, I think. My mother left me everything, and I need a house. I don’t want to go back to Roscommon. It’s a dead end for me there. Do you think—”

Ashley jumped from the sofa and flew to her side, where she plopped on the chair arm. “Paula, that’s an amazing idea. Perfect. You’d be close to us, and I would know the new owner is someone who cares about the memories and, even better, is someone we love.” She turned toward Uncle Fred. “What do you think, Dad?”

“You don’t need my approval, and I think it’s a good idea, except...” He turned his gaze from Ashley to her. “Would you feel restricted to make the house your own, Paula? If you’ll feel restrained, or Ashley...” He faced her. “If you’ll resent Paula redecorating or even renovating, then it’s not a good idea. You both need to consider that.”

Paula knew how she felt, but her uncle’s question put the possibility into a new perspective. “That’s something we have to consider, and Ash, you need to talk it over with Devon.” Though the possibility thrilled her, a problem lay ahead, and the reality drowned her excitement. “But face it, I don’t know what I’m talking about. I don’t have a job yet. I need to put a clamp on my enthusiasm. I can’t make payments without work, and I’m not sure how long it will take to settle the estate. Mom had savings, but I’ve used some of it to live on these past weeks.” The situation crushed her spirit. She wasn’t a kid facing life for the first time. She knew hopes were one thing. Reality was another.

“But Paula, we can—”

“Ashley, I couldn’t get a mortgage right now.” Her excitement died a quiet death. “I don’t even have a down payment without nearly wiping out my mother’s savings, and I don’t know how long it will take to sell her house. I hope it’s soon, but I have no guarantee.”

Ashley shook her head. “We can work that out, and we’re not in a hurry. A sale by owner doesn’t restrict us resolving that issue, either. You’re right, though. I’ll talk with Devon, but I’m sure he’ll have no reservations.” She leaned over and kissed Paula’s cheek. “I love the idea, and even thinking about it, I’m relieved.”

Ashley’s positive attitude should have lifted her spirit, but a woman of her age didn’t go off the deep end. Her old resentment returned. She’d allowed Vic too much leeway, and while she wasn’t looking, her own savings had dwindled to little. He’d walked away, leaving her in his dust with nothing but empty hopes and an empty bank account. How could she have been so stupid?

“Hold on, Ash. Really, I need to take time. I’d love the house, but I have to use common sense. I contacted a Realtor and mother’s house should be on the market now. I’ll call them and check the status.”

Ashley’s excitement faded. “Okay, but we’ll still give it thought and I’ll talk to Devon and see if he has any ideas.”

Ideas were fine, but she had to keep her head. Having a home of her own tempted her to take chances, but getting a grip on her overexuberance, wisdom needed to come first. She’d been stupid once. Let it only be once.

They gave each other a playful handshake, and though it was lighthearted, Paula faced the depth of the decision. Problems could be resolved, but they took thought and time.

Ashley hugged her and gave her dad a peck on the cheek, then headed to her car while Paula sat and pondered the rash decision she’d wanted to make. Since moving from her mother’s home and being on her own, she’d only lived in an apartment or flat, and though she liked the possibility of owning a home, it tied her down and forced her into a commitment to stay there. Still, since coming to Ferndale, she’d wanted a place to call home, a real home, and she liked the idea of being around Clint. He’d lingered in her mind no matter how much she tried to push him out. She hoped they could become friends.

His tender smile washed over her, the crinkles around his eyes, the few silvery strands that highlighted his dark hair, the flex of his strong arms as he moved. Her past relationships broke into her thoughts and she blocked the images. Men appeared in and out of her life with no heart and no depth. She’d begun to think most men were like that. Her father had been, as far as she knew. He’d walked out on them, apparently with no looking back. Vic had kept the apartment and sent her packing. But Devon and Clint, even her uncle Fred, proved that some men were different. Some had the capacity to care and love...really love.

That had been her problem. She’d made rotten decisions because she wanted to be loved and had no idea how to make it happen.

And it never did.

* * *

Clint parked on the street and made his way to Devon’s front door. Before he rang the bell, the door opened, and Ashley greeted him. “Good timing. I just put out some appetizers.” She motioned him inside. “We’ll order pizza a little later.”

“Sounds great.” He stepped through the door, his gaze sweeping the living room and dining room. He recognized Devon’s brother and a few of the others, but he didn’t see Paula. His breath hitched as he wrestled a frown from his face.

“Make yourself at home.” Ashley swung her arm toward the dining room, where he saw food spread on the table.

Disappointed, he headed toward the appetizers. He’d come to the party, and he’d make the best of it.

“Clint.”

He paused and turned her way.

“Some of the guests are in the backyard. We’ve been blessed with a bit of Indian summer.” She grinned. “Drinks are there, too.”

Hoping she hadn’t seen his reaction, he called a thanks over his shoulder and inspected the hors d’oeuvres, his stomach knotted with anticipation. He slipped some veggies and dip onto a paper plate, took a couple of taco chips and guacamole and pushed open the backdoor, trying to focus on getting a cola. But the bluff ended there. His true purpose was to see Paula.

And he saw her when he stepped outside. She sat in a canvas folding chair, the sun glinting streaks of gold in her hair, today the color of caramel. Beside her, he recognized one of Ashley’s friends, and he hesitated to interrupt. Instead, he found the cooler loaded with soft drinks and, on the picnic table, he spotted pitchers of iced tea and lemonade and made his decision.

While he scooped ice cubes into a plastic cup, his gaze swept the guests, hoping to spot a firefighter or someone else he knew. But no one passed by that he’d consider a friend. Maybe he’d missed someone inside.

As he reached for the lemonade pitcher, a piping voice calling his name stopped him. When he turned, he saw Kaylee bounding toward him with Joey on her heels. He set down his glass and shifted his attention to the little girl. Her arms stretched upward, and he grasped her, spinning her around while avoiding wiping out the table.

She giggled, and noting Joey’s envious look, he set her on the ground and crouched beside the two cute kids. “How you doing, slugger?” He tousled Joey’s head and gave him a squeeze.

“Good.” Joey’s loving grin sank into his heart. “Kaylee’s my sister now.”

She giggled and put her arm around his back. “He lives in Daddy’s house and not down the street.”

“I heard, and I saw you both at the wedding. You looked so beautiful, Kaylee, and Joey, I’ve never seen anyone more handsome in a tuxedo.”

The boy’s face beamed. “Handsome like my new daddy.”

“Exactly.” He hated to dismiss the kids. Their loving nature stretched his heart and made him yearn for the same kind of joy, watching his own little boy or girl—maybe both or more—grow up to be adults he could be proud of, but that joy hadn’t happened. He didn’t know if it ever would. His attention slipped to Paula before he managed to refocus.

“Joey. Kaylee.” Ashley’s voice drew nearer. “You’re supposed to grab something to drink and then go back inside and play the game you set up.”

Hangdog looks spread across their faces.

Ashley patted their heads. “Your auntie Neely isn’t going to stay long, and she’s—”

“’Cuz of her big belly with the baby.”

Kaylee’s information caused Ashley and him to muzzle their chuckles. Clint gave Ashley a wink and both kids a hug before they did as they were told.

She moved on, and before he finished pouring his drink, the woman Paula had been talking with passed by, and he noticed Paula alone, an empty chair beside her. He grasped the paper plate in one hand, his drink in the other, and ambled her way, hoping she looked pleased when she saw him. His wish came true.

“Do you mind?” He tilted his head toward the chair.

“Not at all.” She moved an unsteady folding tray closer to his chair. “It’s been a while.”

Too long, as far as he was concerned. “It has been.” He settled into the chair.

“I noticed you over there with the kids.” She swung her hand in the direction of the drinks table.

He loved that she’d noticed him. “They told me they’re brother and sister now. They were glowing. Great it hasn’t been a problem.”

“Ashley and Devon did a good job preparing them.” She fell into silence.

He joined her, remaining silent for a moment until he could respond to her first comment. It had been a while since he’d seen her. It’s not what he wanted, but his lack of confidence with women had taken hold. He braced himself for what he needed to do. Make progress. “I heard through the grapevine—” he shifted his elbow toward Devon heading his way “—you might buy Ashley’s house.”

“That’s the rumor.” She grinned but said no more.

Before they could continue, Devon stuck out his hand for a shake. “Glad you made it. I invited a couple of guys from the station, but they’re not here yet.” He winked at Paula. “I can tell that’s no problem since you know this lady. You see the crew all the time.” Devon chuckled. “And she’s better-looking.”

Being subtle was not Devon’s forte. Even without his friend’s encouragement and his attempt to monitor his emotions, Clint’s heart responded. “Absolutely.” He managed a smile that he hoped looked natural. Being relaxed with a woman, especially one he liked, escaped him. It seemed harder work than double shift at the station.

“I’ll let you two enjoy your conversation.” Devon gave Clint’s shoulder a squeeze, winked at Paula and turned to leave but slowed before pivoting back to them. “Oops, I forgot.” He slipped a photo packet from his shirt pocket. “I’m supposed to be letting people take a look if they want.” He gave Clint a poke in the shoulder. “I know you were interested.”

He held out the envelope, and Clint grasped it, avoiding comment.

Devon paused. “You ought to take a cruise like this, Clint. But you don’t want to go alone.” He gave him another wink and strolled away.

Clint sat a moment clutching the photos. “He’s not very subtle, is he?”

Paula chuckled and took the envelope from his hand.

He wished he could dodge Devon’s obvious comment and suspected Paula was thinking the same. Everything between them was so new and needed time, nurturing in a way. Still, how could he handle a relationship that seemed like work and yet held a promise that drew him forward?

Paula opened the envelope and pulled out the stack of photos. He followed along as they viewed the shots glowing with beautiful sandy beaches, sunsets spreading across the ocean seascape, hammocks between palm trees and a candlelight dinner, Ashley and Devon dressed in their finest.

“Lovely.” Paula’s voice sounded airy as she turned to him. “I’ve never seen a place like this.”

“Me, neither.” So many words bunched into his mind, but only thoughts he had to keep to himself. They barely knew each other, and yet she seemed a longtime friend.

They sat in silence again until Paula cleared her throat. “Getting back to your question about the house.”

Weighted thoughts lifted from his shoulders.

“I’m seesawing over what to do about the house. Devon and Ashley are encouraging me and offering leeway on the deal, but I’m using common sense.”

He wondered what she meant by leeway but let it slide. “It’s a really nice place, but that is a big step. Why not live in your mother’s home?”

As soon as she heard him, she scowled. “Her house is in Roscommon, partway up north. I don’t have any reason...anything to keep me there.”

She’d covered her tracks on the comment, but he could guess what she avoided saying. Being reminded that her mother had lived in Roscommon, he was glad she’d decided to sell the house. In Ferndale she had family and, he hoped, a growing friendship with him.

“I know buying a house is a big step. Ashley’s house fits my needs, and it’s in this area.” She glanced away and pressed her lips together.

He could see she was fighting temptation. She wanted the house, and he could only pray she held on until buying wasn’t financially risky.

“But I can’t be rash.”

It was too late to cover his relieved sigh. “Good thinking.”

A faint frown flickered on her face. “My finances aren’t quite resolved yet. Some money was left in the estate, but to buy the house, I need a job as well as the income from the sale of mother’s property.”

He recognized the problem, knowing the value of homes had dropped in the past few years and selling was at a snail’s pace. But Roscommon. Was there work in that small town to motivate people to buy? His practical nature let questions seep into his mind, but he turned off the flow before he put his foot in this mouth again. Paula didn’t seem to welcome his financial viewpoint. “Any hope of finding a buyer?”

“Good news is the house already has a bid on it, and the Realtor said it looks good. It’ll be a relief to get rid of that problem.”

Her references to relief and problem aroused his curiosity again, but her reference to a job sounded right to him. Maybe she had a good head on her shoulders. “I hope it works out.” From her expression, he’d obviously disappointed her. She’d expected his enthusiasm, but his parents’ way had been solid. Until the money was in hand, the offer was only a dream.

She nodded and fell silent again.

Questions dug into his mind, ones his parents would ask about budgeting and saving money, but the probing could end their amiable conversation. He headed for the safest topic. “Do you have siblings?”

She shook her head. “I’m surprised my parents had me.” As the words left her, she grew silent, her expression reflecting her shock that she’d said that much.

He sat glued to the seat, his lips pressed together, unable to think of anything safe to say.

“I’m sorry, Clint. I’m sure that sounded crude, and I’m surprised I said it.”

“Maybe you needed to.”

Paula tilted her head as if weighing his comment. “You may be right. I tend to hold in things until they explode.” Looking uneasy, her attention drifted toward a couple of new guests who’d arrived. She dragged in a lengthy breath. “I should explain, I suppose.”

He didn’t try to stop her. Instead, he grasped his drink and leaned back in the chair, giving her time to decide what she wanted to say. Her expression created an unexpected ache. He’d suspected she buried things she didn’t want to deal with or think about. Her comment proved he’d been right.

“I was never close to my parents. My dad split when I was still young. I hardly remember him, and my mom led a guarded life, one that didn’t involve me. I don’t think she ever said ‘I love you’ to anyone.”

His chest constricted, air escaping his lungs. Everyone needed to be loved. He’d grown up hearing those words from his parents, and he knew that Jesus loved him. The childhood song swept through his mind. “I’m sorry, Paula. The words ‘I love you’ are precious.”

She nodded without looking at him. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this.” She looked away for a moment.

“I like getting to know you.”

“Really?”

He nodded, aching from the look on her face. “My life wasn’t perfect, either. Not by a long shot.”

She studied him as if to make sure he meant what he said. “Thanks.” She raised her shoulders.

He waited.

Her shoulders slumped as if carrying the weight of her past.

“I’m here, Paula.” He tied down the other words longing to be spoken.

Her head turned toward him like a weather vane in a faint breeze.

When her eyes met his, he spoke those bottled-up words. “And I’m listening.”

A wash of questioning rippled across her face before she took a deep breath. “I moved away from home as soon as I could. Took some college classes and worked a job to help pay for an apartment I shared with a couple of girls. When I finished my associate degree, I got a full-time job and took courses to work on a bachelor’s degree, but I never finished.” She shrugged. “It’s difficult working and going to school. I was dead tired all the time. I decided to put the dream to bed for a while.” She shifted and focused on him. “As life goes, I never went back to college.”

“That happens. I started classes at Michigan State, but then got the firefighter bug. College isn’t necessary for the job, although it can help someone move up in the ranks. I plunged ahead, passed the written, physical and medical exams, and then earned my certification as an EMT.”

“I’m impressed.” She lifted her plastic cup and took a sip.

“Don’t be. It’s a job someone has to do, but I love it. Saving lives and helping people in trouble gives me an opportunity to do what I believe is important. You know the old saying, ‘What would Jesus do?’”

Her head inched upward. “Should I be honest?”

His eyebrows raised, and he forced them down. “Please.”

“I don’t know what Jesus would do. That’s another part of life I missed out on.”

“Religious training?”

“My mother wasn’t a believer, I suspect. No Sunday school or church. Nothing.”

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t be a believer. That’s something in the heart, not always in the home.”

Her expression darkened.

Concerned, he leaned forward. “I hope I didn’t offend you. I just meant that my faith deepened as life went on. I was born into a faith-filled family so I saw it in action, but it didn’t deepen until I experienced life and saw faith acted out each day.”

“I suppose.” She stared into the distance for a moment, then continued. “I’m surprised Neely and Ashley have a religious foundation. Their mother and mine were sisters. Maybe if I’d had that kind of upbringing, my life would have been different.”

“Hard to say why siblings aren’t always the same.” The urge to encourage her to study and grow in faith stirred through him, but he feared the results. “Maybe their dad was the influence.”

A faint grin etched her mouth. “Probably was. Uncle Fred’s down-to-earth, funny and very thoughtful. He’s quite a character.”

“He is. I get a kick out of—”

“Pizza.” The word rang out as Devon came through the back door, holding a number of Jet’s Pizza boxes, while Ashley made room on the picnic table. “Time to eat.”

Eating was the last thing Clint wanted to do. Paula had opened up, spilling out some of the hurts and situations that had molded her into the person he wanted to know better. But as others headed toward the table, Paula rose, and he followed, letting the subject drop. He sensed there was much more to tell, but today he’d made a little progress in getting to know the woman who’d become the center of his thoughts. Thoughts he couldn’t control. Ones that demanded attention.

Pizza restricted their conversation, leaving him with the undaunted urge to rescue Paula from the hurts and damage from the past. He sat unmoving, the desire growing in his mind. He’d rescued many from flames and other tragic situations.

But this was different. Was rescuing Paula even possible?