Safe in the Fireman's Arms (12 page)

“Oh, no...” Maggie’s breath stuck in her lungs and her eyes filled with moisture. Instinctively, she reached out to touch his hand. He enfolded her fingers in his palm and stared unseeing at the sight of their hands together.

They were both quiet for moments.

“I wouldn’t have made it without my faith.” Jake shook his head. “I was ugly and miserable, blaming myself. Yet every time I called on Him, He was there for me.”

Maggie stared at Jake. “Why would you blame yourself?”

“I should have been able to save her. That’s my job.”

“You can’t protect everyone.”

“My brain knows that but my heart has never believed the words were true.”

“What does God say?”

He gave a wry smile. “We circle around the topic.”

“How long has it been?” she asked.

“Ten years.”

“That’s a long time to be alone.”

He sat back in the chair and yanked off his tie and placed it on the table.

The whistling kettle hissed and called to Maggie. She reached for a potholder and poured hot water into the mugs, then returned the kettle to the stove and sat down again.

“You know this is the first time I’ve actually been out with a woman since I lost her.”

She arched a brow. “I’m honored.”

“I guess Bitsy’s crazy fireman raffle wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

“I wasn’t too thrilled at first myself.”

“I got that part right away.” He laughed.

“The entire evening was fun. Memorable,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What part did you like best?’

“When you picked me up and looked at me like I was beautiful.”

He paused, as if taken aback by her response. “You are beautiful.”

She shrugged.

“You know, we actually have a lot in common,” Jake mused. “We both returned to Paradise for the same reason. To hide. The people of Paradise took me into their hearts. The love I found in this town has erased most of the pain and allowed me to start over. I think you’re going to find the same thing.”

He took a deep breath and tore open the packet of tea, pulling out the bag. Slowly he dipped it into his mug. “What I’m trying to say is I take one day at a time. That was my vow when I moved here. I don’t look down the road. Don’t worry about tomorrow.”

“That’s your plan, huh? I’m not sure I’m there yet. I’m still worrying about six months down the road, myself,” she said.

Jake grinned. “I’m glad we’ve become friends, Maggie. I like being with you. I don’t want to stop. And I don’t want to think any further than today. Is that okay?”

“Sure. I’ll think about tomorrow and you think about today. That can be our plan.”

He stared into her eyes for several moments, before slowly leaning forward. His breath touched her face as he paused to silently ask permission.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Maggie closed her eyes in time to feel his lips barely graze hers. She swallowed a sigh and opened her eyes.

“Okay?” he questioned, his expression solemn.

Her heart continued to bump wildly against her chest, even as she nodded and pretended a peace she was far from feeling.

“Maggie?”

She raised her head. “Yes.”

“I really do smell something burning.”

Maggie frowned. “Jake, nothing is burning.”

“Yet, my nose disagrees.” He slid back his chair. “Mind if I look around?”

“Have at it,” she said.

“What’s in here?” He pulled open a door.

“Hot water tank.”

Jake pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and inspected the tank. “Looks okay. No leaking. Keep the area around it free from dust.”

“Yes, sir.”

Maggie followed him as he moved down the hall to the bathroom. “Gas wall heater. These things are dangerous.”

“Jake, it’s summer. I’ve never used the thing and it’s about forty years old. I would never use it. Trust me to have some common sense.”

At least he had the wisdom not to remind her of past indiscretions.

He pointed to the last door. “Bedroom?”

She nodded.

“May I?”

Maggie groaned. The room was an impressive mess, with clothes tossed on every surface. A quilt had been haphazardly thrown over the mismatched sheets and the pillows were falling off the bed.

“I was in a rush.” Her face flamed. “I got so busy soldering the wind chimes that I lost track of time.”

“Soldering?” His eyes rounded.

Maggie released a small gasp. “I left the soldering gun on.”

She raced down the hall, her dress fluttering around her. The hot metal odor only intensified as they approached the living room.

Jake’s cheek twitched with the obvious effort of saying nothing while Maggie unplugged the tool.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It wasn’t touching anything.” She winced. “I’m really sorry. Sometimes I just get caught up in what I’m doing.”

“I’d tell you that I understand. But I don’t. There’s something about you that seems to attract trouble and I’d like that to stop.”

Maggie gave a slow and thoughtful nod.

He met her gaze. “Maggie,” he said, his voice low and dangerously calm, “I’m your friend. I care about you. I don’t think I could handle it if something happened to you and I could have prevented it.”

He released a breath and shuddered. “Not again. Not in this lifetime.”

Chapter Eight

“M
argaret, when are you coming home?” Her father’s voice rang out clearly as he put her on speakerphone.

“Good morning, Dad. I was calling to wish you a happy Father’s Day.”

“I’ll be happy when you come home. Besides, Father’s Day was yesterday.”

“I called yesterday and got voice mail.”

“We were at a new program at the museum. You know we’re never available on the weekends.”

“Right.”

“When did you say you were coming home, Margaret?” her father asked again.

“I’m not coming home.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m about to accept a temporary teaching position in Paradise. This is my home now.”

Her mother spoke up. “I didn’t realize there was a university in Paradise.”

Maggie cleared her throat. “High school. I’m teaching at a high school.”

“Teaching what?” her mother asked.

“Junior and senior level science. Mostly chemistry, physics and some botany and biology.”

Her mother gasped. “You can’t be serious. What about your PhD? The ink is barely dry on your diploma. Then there’s your student-loan repayment. You didn’t spend all that time and money on your doctorate to teach a bunch of teenagers how to dissect a frog.”

“You’re exaggerating, Mother.”

“Am I?”

“At any rate. This is what I’m doing until May. I’m taking a break from college academia. I’ve been going to school since I was five years old. I’m tired of being a professional student.”

“Are you tired of the fact that you’re on the tenure track at thirty-two? Thanks to us, I might add.”

“I do thank you, Mother. Both of you. For everything.” She took a deep breath. “Now it’s time for me to live my own life.”

“Interesting phraseology. What exactly does that mean, Margaret?”

“It means I get to choose from now on.”

“Choose what?” her father asked.

“Choose everything, Dad.”

“Be sensible, Margaret. You’re going to give up the dreams you’ve worked so hard for, for what? What exactly does Paradise have to offer you?”

“Your dreams, Dad. Yours and Mom’s. As for me, well, I’m not sure yet. The only thing I know for certain is that I need time to think, so I can decide exactly what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

“What if you fail?”

“In this situation, failure is an option. It’s my life. In my heart, I feel as though, well, like the Lord is calling me to take a step out in faith, toward the life He has for me.”

“Oh, you’re not going to start with that God stuff again, are you?” her mother groaned. “Ronald, this is your brother’s fault. I knew sending her to that place in the summers was a bad idea.”

“Mother, I’ve been a Christian for years. You know that.”

“I thought it was a phase that you would outgrow.”

“How do you outgrow God?”

“I will not discuss this any further,” her mother returned.

Maggie could visualize her mother’s expression of distain with clarity.

“That’s fine. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

Her mother cleared her throat. “Have you spoken to your fiancé?”

“Ex-fiancé. I spoke to him before I left. When I personally returned his ring.”

“I’m sure he’s devastated.”

“Yes. He is. Now he has to find another mentor for tenureship. I was never the object of his affection, Mother. He was desperately in love with our family’s academic status.”

“That isn’t true, Margaret.”

“It is true, and it’s really a moot point now.”

“Will you be coming to get your things?” her father asked. “We’ve decided to turn your room into an office for your mother.”

“Sure. Yes. Let me schedule a moving truck. Will this Saturday work for you?”

“Yes. Very good.”

“Did I say happy Father’s Day?” Maggie asked.

“You did. Have a good day, Margaret, and remember that we can’t hold your position at the college for much longer.”

“I understand that, Dad. Goodbye. I love you.”

“Goodbye.”

Maggie set down her cell and realized her other hand was closed into a tense fist, her short nails digging into her palm.

Warm and fuzzy, her parents were not. They cared in their own way, which unfortunately generally consisted mostly of reading between the lines. With a microscope. Aunt Betty was right, her father and Uncle Bob were as different as two brothers could be.

What would have happened if she’d actually grown up in Paradise instead of simply spending summers here?

Maybe she’d be more like Susan and less like the coward she’d become.

Guilt gnawed at her as she paced the kitchen, mulling over the conversation with her parents. How was it they always managed to make her feel like a failure?

Am I missing it here, Lord?
No, she didn’t think so. She was determined to look forward and not back and things were looking very good. Why, she had a lovely little house, and a newly planted garden. A new job, too.

Maggie glanced at the clock. Too early for work. Unless she walked to work and then stopped by Patti Jo’s and treated herself to something special to celebrate her new life in Paradise.

She wasn’t going to allow her parents to steal her joy. Locking the door, she headed down the street, with a smile on her face.

“Hi, Mack,” Maggie called out as she approached his house.

Mack pulled his head from beneath the hood of a vintage Mustang.

“Mornin’, Maggie. Where’s your bike? Do you need a ride to work?”

“No, thanks, it’s a lovely day. I prefer to walk.” She stopped at the bottom of his driveway. “What are you doing?”

He stood straight and wiped his hands on a greasy rag. “I’m trying to get this baby fixed for Bitsy. That tank she drives is on its last legs.”

“Need any help? I’m pretty good with engines.”

“Why am I not surprised? I might take you up on that offer later.”

“You do that. Just holler.”

“I will.” Mack paused and opened his mouth, and then closed it as though he suddenly thought better of it.

“Was there something else?”

“Uh, no. I guess not.”

“Have a great day,” she said.

Maggie continued along the residential street until she reached Main. She took a shortcut through the alley to Patti Jo’s Café and Bakery, where she pulled open the familiar red door.

“One tall black coffee and a chocolate scone, please, Julia.” She dug in her wallet for exact change.

“Here you go,” Julia said. The teen looked at Maggie with a question on her face.

Maggie frowned, perplexed. “Everything okay, Julia?”

Julia nodded. At the same time two customers slowly walked by and stared at Maggie.

Something was definitely going on and eventually she’d figure it out. After all, this was Paradise, and there were no secrets here.

She left the café and stepped outside, turning her face to the sunshine as she walked down the street. Today she’d only think about pleasant things, like the new outfit that she was wearing, a white eyelet-trimmed, peach peasant blouse with green capris.

Or maybe she’d think about Jake and his feather-soft kiss instead. Her heart needed no encouragement to change the subject of her thoughts. Of course, it was a once-in-a-lifetime kiss, not to be repeated, which meant she’d savor it even more.

Turning the corner, she halted, her coffee sloshing forward through the sip hole. A long line had formed outside the fix-it shop. A line that consisted wholly of men. Men of various shapes, sizes and ages stood with appliances and equipment in hand. What was going on? Were they having a sale and no one told her?

She stepped carefully toward the shop. Several heads turned and elbows jostled each other as the customers turned to look at her. Yes. They were all men. What was going on?

“Hi, Maggie!”

“Hello?” she said with a wary smile. Did she know the man? Maybe from the Founder’s Day supper?

Faces ranging from familiar to not so familiar greeted her with eager smiles.

Standing at the head of the line was Duffy McKenna, holding a large cardboard box. She didn’t want to know what was inside that box.

His freckled face lit up when he saw her. “Good morning, Maggie.”

“Duffy?”

“You look lovely today,” he said.

“Ah, thank you. You are aware that we don’t open for another thirty minutes, right?”

“That’s okay, I’ll wait. I’ve been here for two hours. Can’t give up my spot.”

“Two hours? That must be important stuff in that box.” She shook her head. “I’ll see what I can do about opening a little early this morning.”

“Thanks, Maggie.” Duffy grinned and elbowed the elderly man next to him in line.

Maggie knocked on the door of the shop and Beck peeked out from behind the blinds. She heard a click and the door finally swung open. She slipped inside and shut it firmly behind her.