Rescued by the Firefighter

“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?

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