Rescued by the Firefighter Read online

  He swung his head from side to side as words failed him. He drew her deeper into his arms and sought her lips, letting every feeling he’d had for her flow freely. He’d been scared. She’d lacked hope and self-esteem. They were two muddled people who needed each other. He sensed it more than he’d sensed anything.

  Her mouth clung to his, her body shaking in his embrace. Tears ran along his cheek and he wasn’t sure if they were hers or his own. And he didn’t care.

  When he eased back, he nestled her to his side. No words were needed. They had made a big step, and their relationship didn’t need to be defined. It needed to grow with confidence and with love if God blessed it.

  He prayed the Lord would.

  * * *

  Paula sat across from the buyers, signing the papers to finalize the sale of her mother’s home. Her check lay on the table between the Realtor and mortgage lender rep, whose name she had missed in her nervousness. Though signing her name should have been a relief, somewhere inside her it left her nostalgic, even sad.

  Not wanting to sink into the old despondency, she focused on the buyers as they signed the papers, and she accepted the check for the house. Their offer, even though it hadn’t been as generous as she’d countered, no longer mattered. They were thrilled with the house, and the check in her hand moved her one step closer to making a new life for herself.

  “Miss Reynolds.”

  The Realtor’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

  “You have thirty days to clear your belongs from the property. Anything left behind will become property of the new owners.”

  Although she didn’t want anything from the house, she didn’t want to leave a mess for the couple who bought it. “I’ll see it’s taken care of.”

  “Thanks.” Ron Downs, the new owner, smiled and extended his hand. “We appreciate it.”

  She acknowledged his thanks and slipped the check into her purse.

  The Realtor rose, shaking hands with her and the couple, and when she’d been as social as she needed to be, she slipped through the door and headed for her car.

  Today wasn’t a day she wanted to plow through the house deciding what to do with the furnishings inside. The check lifted her spirit, and returning to her uncle’s made sense. She could talk to him about who to contact to empty the house.

  As she backed out of the parking place, her cell phone beeped, and she stopped and checked the ID. Her heart tumbled when she saw the caller’s name. She hadn’t expected this call after the long wait. But once she heard the employer’s voice, she readied herself for the news. “Sorry about the delayed call. I had a family emergency that took a couple of days, but I hope you’re still available. We’ve decided that your qualifications are perfect, and I want to offer you the secretarial/accountant job we discussed.”

  Her hand shook as the good news registered. “Thank you and, yes, I’m still available. I’ve been hoping you’d call, so you’ve made my day.”

  “We’re excited to have you join our staff. I’ll need you to come in to fill out the paperwork and that will be it.”

  “When would you like me to start?” She held her breath, concerned about getting her mother’s house emptied.

  “Can you begin October fourteenth? That gives you a week.”

  A week. Her mind whirred. Could she get that mess finished in a week? It didn’t matter. The job did. “That’s fine. I look forward to joining your company.”

  Although she still had a long drive home, before she hung up, she made arrangements to take care of the paperwork. That would be one task completed. She would deal with the other issue when her mind cleared.

  When she clicked off, she hit her call log and lowered her finger to Clint’s number, but stopped herself and dropped the phone in her handbag. Instead, she took a chance he would be home, and she could stop there on her way to her uncle’s.

  She anticipated her news—her uncle Fred’s encouragement and Ashley’s thrill that she could now purchase the house, but Clint’s potential reaction was a mystery. His concern could still be her finances. What she wanted was hearing his pleasure.

  She wiped away the worry. Clint’s opinions were his own. She wasn’t stupid, and no matter what else, the day she and Clint had talked about their feelings had been a highlight of her happiness. She clung to it, knowing she still had things to confess, but she’d hinted at the worst, and, despite that, he seemed to enjoy her company and being friends. Baring her soul could come later...if one day the relationship grew from friendship to something more.

  Something more. An expected longing coursed through her, picturing Clint’s arms holding her close, his lips on hers. In all her search for love, she’d never found one moment of ecstasy, anything that compared to her feelings for Clint.

  Chapter Eight

  Hearing a car door close, Clint looked out the window and saw Paula heading for the door. Each time he laid eyes on her, he admitted he’d fallen for her. Nosedived was more like it. But today she’d surprised him. She’d never dropped by before without calling. He studied her expression, hoping she wasn’t bearing bad news. That was when she seemed to need him most.

  He propped the vacuum cleaner against the wall and waited for her steps on the porch. When he opened the door, she threw herself into his arms.

  He drew his head back, but seeing her smile, he breathed easier. “You won the lottery.”

  “Second best. Signed away the house today.” She patted her shoulder bag. “The check is right here, and that was followed by a phone call I thought would never come.”

  The phone call threw him. “Who was it?” He could only think of her missing father or—

  “You’re looking at an employed woman.”

  His chest expanded as he tightened his hold around her, lifted her up and spun her into the living room. When he set her down, she reeled a moment with a smile he wanted to keep in his mind forever. “This is a day to mark on the calendar.”

  She nodded, then gazed around the room. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  He chuckled and swung his hand toward the vacuum cleaner. “If you’re talking about that, you can interrupt me anytime.” He beckoned her deeper into the room. “Have a seat.”

  She settled onto the sofa as her expression changed. “First, how are you feeling? Better?”

  “Much. The cough’s nearly gone, and I’ll see the doctor in a couple of days. I assume I can get back to work. My energy is up, and my breathing has improved.”

  “That’s wonderful. But I don’t want you go back to work too fast, so listen to the doctor.”

  Her motherly advice tickled him. He’d had no one in recent years who cared one way or the other if he got enough sleep or if he needed a massage for his aching shoulders. “I will. Promise.”

  Her expression brightened, and she had slipped off her shoes and curled her legs up beneath her, looking as if she spent every evening there by his side.

  Warmth swept across his chest and into his heart. This was the kind of relationship he’d dreamed of, one he thought he might have with Elise. Today he wouldn’t give a nickel for her. Paula’s presence in his life filled him with more than happiness. He felt whole. Complete. His smile could never reflect the joy he felt. Every day was a festive occasion lately when Paula appeared at his door.

  “So everything’s perfect. You can buy Ashley’s home if that’s still your plan and still have money to fall back on.” If he could keep his financial comments to himself, he’d be happier.

  “I definitely want the house. No question, but...everything’s not perfect.”

  His jaw slacked, and he ran his fingers through his hair to keep them busy. He couldn’t imagine what wasn’t perfect. Rather than trying to guess, he halted his mental acrobatics and rose. “What’s the problem?”

 
“I have thirty days to empty the house. That sounds like a long time, but I start work on Monday. Roscommon is too far to drive there after work, and—”

  “Hold on.” Relieved, he sank beside her on the sofa, his hand capturing hers. “You have a few days before going to work, and I’m off. Let’s start out early tomorrow and see what we can accomplish. You may need help moving things, but you’ll know better once you take stock of the situation. It’s resolvable.”

  “You see it clearer than I do. But it’s a house full of furniture and piles of memorabilia.” She grew silent a moment. “Although I don’t really want anything from there.”

  Her expression caused an ache in his chest. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Don’t make decisions now. Life has a way of equalizing, and how you feel today doesn’t mean you’ll feel that way in two weeks or two years.”

  Silent, she frowned as if implying he had no idea what he was talking about. Still, she might think differently with time. He stifled further comment. “I only mean you can make the decision when we’re there. What do you think? Tomorrow?”

  “I can’t let you tote things to the car, Clint. You’re recuperating, and—”

  “I’m not a fool. I won’t do anything to jeopardize my health. Tomorrow will be an assessment day. Decide if you want anything, otherwise we can make some calls.”

  She lowered her head, and he could almost hear the gears twirling in her mind. “Assessment only?”

  He nodded and raised his hand to his heart. “Promise.” Unless she changed her mind.

  “Okay.” A ragged breath escaped her, and she closed her eyes for a moment. “Clint, I wish I had half the wisdom you have, but I tangle myself in doubts and frustration and get nowhere. I look for the worst. You see the best in almost everything.”

  She gave him far more credit than he deserved. “Nothing’s perfect, Paula, and I’ll remind you I’m not perfect, either.” He rose and pulled her into his arm.

  Her golden-brown eyes searched his, and he melted in their depths. His lips sought hers, and as they kissed, her shoulders relaxed and tension eased from her body. As if they both forgot about their imperfection, their lips melded together in perfect bliss. Their friendship took a giant step forward. This was real. Now all he had to do was convince Paula.

  * * *

  Paula turned the key in the lock and hesitated before she stepped inside her mother’s home. Drawing in the moldering air, she made her way inside and wandered through the living room onto the seasonal porch. She stood in silence, looking into the woods where scraggily pines mixed with untamed underbrush. This room, of all in the house, left her with positive memories. Watching nature change seasons, in winter offering the promise of spring and brighter days to come. Within her, those days were now. Her chest tightened, thinking of the changes.

  Clint hadn’t intruded on her silence, and when she looked behind her, she saw he’d remained near the fireplace. Returning to his side, the dampness in the air sent a shiver rustling down her body, and she covered her arms with her hands, knowing the icy feeling was most likely caused by the house and the dank memories she’d been unable to discard.

  “Should I start a fire?” She pointed to the hearth.

  Clint checked his watch. “We’re leaving in a few hours, and I’d be worried about sparks igniting the carpet once we leave.” He craned his neck. “No hearth screen? You— Whoever bought this place should buy one for their own safety.”

  A chuckle lifted her spirits. “Okay, Mr. Firefighter. I believe you.”

  Clint looked distracted, his eyes drawn to the mantel. A long-neglected ivy seemed to have caught his eye, and he touched the dried leaves, watching them crumble and fall to the wood. “This reminds me of my mother. She would set dishes of dried flower petals on the foyer table when I lived at home. It left a sweet scent in the air.” He ran his free hand through her hair. “Sort of like you.”

  Her heart lurched, seeing the longing in his eyes.

  “I never understood why anyone wanted dried-up flowers, but today...” He drew her closer. “I understand. It reminds us that even things neglected can become beautiful.”

  The image blossomed in her mind, and his meaning touched her. When she gazed into his eyes, she read more than his words. She knew what she wanted and what he needed. Her pulse sparked as his lips touched hers, a kiss that nearly stopped her heart.

  He drew back and shook his head. “I shouldn’t have—”

  She laid her fingertips against his warm mouth. “No shoulds or shouldn’ts.” Her palm grazed across his lips to his cheek and rested against a prickle of whiskers, feeling the warmth of his skin. “You’re an amazing man, Clint. I have never been treated with so much respect and kindness in my life.”

  She understood his discomfort. The kiss had caused them both to yearn for more than a kiss. But never again. What she had with Clint had to be pure and real. For years she’d wanted love so badly she gave in to men’s whims, learning each time it only left her feeling unclean and worthless. But Clint lived a life following what he knew God expected. His strong beliefs gave her responsibility to protect them both from a mistake. She saw the warning signal. How long could this go on without ramifications that could hurt them both?

  Clint drew in a lengthy breath and stepped away. “What should we do first? You need to decide what you want and then we can make decisions on how to dispose of the rest.”

  “I don’t think I want anything.” She eyed him over her shoulder, wanting to talk about what had just happened between them, but she contained the desire. They’d come to the house for a reason, and she would stick to the task. “Should we look in the phone book and find someone to cart it away? That’s the quickest and easiest.”

  Clint turned to her, shaking his head. “Are you purchasing all of Ashley’s furniture?”

  She rubbed the back of her neck, getting his point. At the moment, she didn’t have the finances to buy a house and a houseful of furniture. She dropped her hand and bit the edge of her lip, more confused than she’d been since the day she’d faced caring for her mother. “No, Ashley’s keeping a few of her things, but she said I could have what was left if I wanted it.”

  She suspected Clint needed more convincing. “Remember, Devon’s house is completely furnished.”

  Clint said no more and left her struggling with what to do. Picturing herself living among Ashley’s sad memories wasn’t much better than existing with her own.

  Wrapped in her silent struggle, Clint’s voice cut through her concentration. “Paula, I understand why the house brings back bad memories. You told me about the life you led here as a child, but don’t let that hold you down. I wish you could give it all to the Lord, but—”

  “But I’m a hopeless—”

  “Nothing’s hopeless.” He drew her into his arms again and kissed her hair. “Don’t count on Ashley’s offer. Devon’s home is decorated in his taste...and maybe his former wife’s. Ashley might want a lot of her own furniture.”

  Clint always made sense, although it irked her at times. “I suppose.” She gave him that, but she wondered what he’d say if she reminded him her mother had left her tainted by a lifestyle that had affected her life. She’d learned no other way to survive.

  She pivoted in a circle and focused on the contents of the living room. Nothing there connected with her. The overstuffed sofa and chairs were worn, and the wood in the other pieces was dark mahogany—too gloomy. She needed brightness in her life for once. “I don’t want anything from this room.”

  “What about the buffet? It’s a nice piece of—”

  “No.” She spun around to face him. “But you know what I’d like?”

  He had pulled back as if she’d surprised him. “What?”

  “A unit like the one in your house. Oak. You know, with shelves and drawers. I
t’s beautiful and it would be a great addition to the living room.”

  “I know the one.” He chuckled. “Thanks.”

  She scrutinized him. What had been funny? “Can you remember where you bought it?”

  He reached out and drew her closer. “I remember how I got it.”

  “How?” She studied his face. “You mean—”

  “I built it.”

  She clamped her mouth closed before her jaw dropped, but her surprise couldn’t be hidden from him. “You did that? Wow.”

  His eyes twinkled, but he only shrugged. “It’s a hobby.”

  “It’s more than that, Clint. That’s what people call a talent.”

  “Whatever you want to call it, I’ll be happy to build anything you want.”

  “I couldn’t ask—”

  “I offered, Paula.” He gave her a wink. “I’d love to make something for you.”

  “I love those beautiful doors with inset panels in golden oak?” She pictured him sanding and carving, creating something that lovely, and asked herself what other talents Clint had. What other surprises?

  “You tell me. I’ll build it.”

  Her heart lifted as she tiptoed upward to his cheek and kissed it. One thing she knew. This man was nothing like anyone she’d known in her past. Nothing like Vic, for sure. Though she’d known Clint only a short time, he’d grown in stature far more than his powerful frame. He was as unique as the lovely cabinet he’d built.

  “Time’s fleeting.” Clint chucked her under the chin.

  “You’re right.” She walked back onto the porch and examined the two matching rust-colored easy chairs and a golden oak table. This room didn’t rile her emotions. The chairs were fairly new, and the table had been a recent addition. She could use those.

  When she turned around, Clint had vanished. The furniture slipped onto her mental “take” list before she headed inside, noting the shiny dining-room table in a light-colored wood with black accents. She added that to her list.

  A noise sounded from the opposite direction, and she walked down the hallway, passing her mother’s room and then the bathroom. Nothing there she wanted. She followed the sound up the staircase. After passing her old bedroom, she found Clint in the room her mother had used for storage but added a sofa bed for guests.