Love Inspired May 2015 #2 (53 page)

Chapter Thirteen

R
achel pulled the last handful of books out of the box and slid them onto the bookshelf in the living room. As she unpacked the last of her book collection, she felt as though her home was finally complete, but something was missing this time, and her heart felt empty.

She pulled the next box closer and cut the tape. Bending back the flaps, she lifted Chris's baby book reverently out of the box and smoothed her hand over the pale blue cover. The first pictures were of Chris in her arms—a tiny infant, bundled up in a white blanket. One little hand poked out, and the round dome of his bald head. In the photo, Rachel was looking down at him with a look a sheer wonder on her face.

I had no idea what to expect
, she thought with a hint of melancholy.

The next few photos showed her late husband holding Chris, beaming proudly. As she turned the pages, Chris got older. He had his first bath. He met the grandparents in that cross-eyed, confused way that newborns had. He got propped up with teddy bears and slurped at bottles that he learned to hold by himself. He sat up. He crawled. He sprouted his first tooth. Every moment was documented with love and intricate attention to all his little milestones. She pulled the Polaroid picture of Matt holding the newfound Chris in his arms from her pocket.

Matt's eyes looked soft, and Chris snuggled into his neck in the same way she remembered he used to do with her. He looked safe in those muscular arms. He looked cared for, and she felt a wave of gratitude that God had provided someone to cradle her child before she even knew he existed.

What was it about this big firefighter who kept swooping into their life right when they needed rescuing the most?

She tucked the photo into the front of the album, closed it gently and put the album in its place on the bottom shelf.

An image of Matt rose in her mind—Matt in his firefighting suit, dashing into that house after the boy he thought was inside... She'd never seen another man willing to do something like that for her son before, not since Ed. And she'd never met a man who made her feel the way she did right now, either.

And you sent him away
, she reminded herself bitterly.

She had been afraid to come in second to the job, but when a man ran into a burning building after your child, it was hard to feel like anything but his top priority. She was afraid to fall in love and then lose him as she had done with Ed, yet wasn't she losing him right this very moment? And hadn't she already fallen in love with him?

Chris had gotten attached, too, and while she'd been so focused on protecting Chris from any more pain in his young life, she was blocking them both from a happy life with a good man—a man she loved.

“Father,” she prayed aloud, “have I made a mistake?”

It sure felt like it, but feelings weren't always reliable, either. The job had come first, and while she could understand why, it didn't change facts. He was signing those papers—he'd made his choice long before she'd ever stepped foot in Haggerston. Everything was happening according to plan, even if that plan hurt right now.

The tears she'd been holding back all morning finally spilled onto her cheeks and she covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking as sobs overtook her body. A mom needed to be strong for her child, but right now she needed to lean into the invisible arms of her Father and let Him be the strong one. She might be a woman and no longer a hopeful girl, but she'd fallen in love with the tall firefighter in spite of her best efforts, and a broken heart still felt the same.

* * *

Mr. Bernard sat down in the visitor chair opposite Matt's desk, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Congratulations, Matthew,” Mr. Bernard said. “It was a unanimous vote. We'd like to welcome you to South Maitland's fire department.” The older man shook Matt's hand warmly. “How does it feel?”

“Well, I've worked toward this for years, sir,” Matt said frankly.

“It's a huge accomplishment, son,” Mr. Bernard replied. “You'll be the youngest fire chief I've ever encountered, and that's to your credit. You were more qualified than applicants twenty years your senior. You've certainly worked for this.”

“I'm looking forward to meeting the team.”

“They're excited to meet you, too. In fact, I have a couple of real-estate agents who have offered you a cut on their fees if you're looking to buy in the area. But first things first.”

Matt glanced around his office, and his eyes lit on the corner of his desk. That was the spot he'd always thought he'd put a picture on when he found the right woman to share his life. He'd proudly put a picture there of the two of them beaming into a camera, and now— Why on earth was that thought so sad right now? Did it matter which desk a picture sat on? It wasn't as if this desk was anything special. Public servants had public service desks—gray metal frames with fake wood tops
. Nothing special
, he told himself.
Pull it together
.

“—don't you think?” Mr. Bernard was saying.

“I'm sorry, sir. I got distracted for a second and missed that.”

“I was saying that now would be a good time to sign those papers,” the older man repeated, pulling his briefcase up to his lap and flicking open the clasps. “I have to say, the hiring board will be very pleased when I call to say that we've tied this up.”

South Maitland was a friendly and beautiful community, located in the center of farm country. Matt had no doubt that he'd enjoy living in that area a lot, and he'd been toying with the idea of buying an acreage—a little more space to spread out. He'd been mentally planning this move for months, yet the excitement of this moment had dried up.

I should be happier
, he told himself, as if a mental lecture on the subject would make a difference.

“I think we've talked about all the clauses in your contract,” Mr. Bernard said. “Did you have any concerns about it?”

Matt let out a long breath, focusing his thoughts on the contract that lay before him on the desktop. “No, I think it's quite fair. We hammered out that issue with pension, so I think that covered my concerns.”

“Excellent.” Mr. Bernard shot him a smile and pulled out a pen, clicking it open. “Then all that remains is a signature.”

Matt took the pen. It was heavy, perfectly weighted and balanced in his fingers at a satisfying angle.

Lord, I've worked for this and prayed for this. I'm finally getting the fire chief position. This is Your plan for me, isn't it?

He flipped through the pages, initialing in the boxes next to each clause, and when he got to the end, he eyed the bottom line.

“One more John Hancock,” Mr. Bernard said, “and I owe you a celebratory dinner, Chief.”

* * *

Rachel sat on the edge of Chris's bed and looked down at the train track the boy had concocted over the past half hour. The wooden tracks started at one end of the room and looped their way over to the other, a town of toy buildings and block houses populating the entire length. It was impressive and she attempted to show some enthusiasm for his work.

“This is a great town. You've been working hard.”

“Yeah.” Chris pulled his train slowly over a bridge, then muttered in frustration as it collapsed. “Man, it always does that...”

Rachel slipped off the edge of his bed and sank to the floor next to him. “Sweetie, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What?” Chris asked, turning his large blue eyes onto her. “Am I in trouble again?”

“No...” She put a hand over his. “Things have been hard lately, haven't they?”

“Yeah.” His voice was so soft that she had to lean closer to catch his response.

“What happened at school last year, son? Were the kids teasing you like that boy did here?”

Chris nodded. “I just got so mad.”

“How come the teachers didn't notice?” she asked. “They were watching. I asked them to keep an eye out for what was happening.”

“I don't know.” He shrugged. “It was on the bus.”

“Who was the worst?” she asked.

“Virgil.”

The fights—the constant fights with those other boys... She'd suspected that there was more to it, but no one would say a word and she was left reprimanding her son for hitting others. Virgil was the principal's son, and suddenly it all fell into place. The teacher had been blaming Chris because she didn't want to point the finger at her boss's son. Tears rose inside her chest.

“And the fire...the one at our old house...”

He was silent for a long moment, and she thought he might not answer her. Finally he looked up into her face, his blue eyes brimming with tears. “I did that.”

“But why?” she whispered.

“I was mad.” He shrugged weakly.

“Are you still mad?”

“No.” His eyes brightened and he dug his heel into the carpet. “I've got Mr. Bailey now, and he can stop the kids from teasing me, so it'll be okay.”

Rachel closed her eyes for a moment, summoning up strength. Was Matt really the one to make her little boy feel strong again? She'd hoped that their friendship would help, and now she'd have to break the hardest news possible. “I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Bailey, too. He's going to be moving away.”

“Why?” Chris slapped the bridge down and dashed at the tears that spilled down his cheeks. “That's not fair!”

“He got a job in a different town across the state. So he has to move there.”

“He can't just go! He's not supposed to just go away,” Chris protested. “Who will make the mean kids stop being mean to me now?”

“I will.”

“But you don't know how.”

She sighed, the old sadness welling up inside her. “I'll always be here for you, Chris. I'm your mom—we stick together, and we help each other. Always. This is your home and I will hold on to you with all my strength for as long as I live. I don't know exactly how to fix this now, but I'll find the answers. I promise. Mr. Bailey is our friend, and sometimes friends move away, but you can count on me, son.”

“But I don't want him to go.” He rubbed the tears off his cheeks with the palms of his hands. “I told Mr. Bailey that he couldn't be your boyfriend. Is that why he's going?”

“No.” She smiled in spite of it all. “That's not the reason. It isn't because of you.”

“But if he was your boyfriend, would he stay?” Chris pressed.

“It doesn't work that way, sweetie,” she replied quietly. “Sometimes things get complicated between grown-ups who care about each other a lot.”

Chris stood up and wandered over to his open window. He looked down into the yard, his small shoulders drooping. He looked so small, so fragile, and Rachel sent up a prayer, as she always did, that God would protect her little boy. Would Chris be able to face the next school year without his firefighter? He'd have to, and she'd just have to be tougher than ever to stand up for her son.

“Can I talk to him now?” Chris asked, looking back at her.

“Not now,” she said. “He's busy now.”

The sadness welled up higher inside her heart, and she blinked back the tears. She'd miss Matt, too—more than she'd ever admit to her little boy.

“No, he isn't,” Chris countered.

“Chris, please don't argue with me,” she said more firmly. “Maybe we can call tomorrow.”

“But he's right down there.” Chris turned back to the window and peered down. “Hi, Mr. Bailey!”

Rachel blinked and stood up, moving over to the window to look down over the top of her son's head. Matt's truck was parked in the driveway, and he stood beside it, his head tipped back as he looked up at them. He shaded his eyes with one hand, his biceps straining against his shirt. His blue eyes sparkled and he shot her a grin.

“Matt?” She pressed down the surge of relief to see him again so soon and pushed the window farther open. “What are you doing here? I thought you were signing those papers.”

“I was. I came back.”

His reply was so matter-of-fact. She blinked and pulled away from the window.

“All right, Chris, let's go down and say hello.”

Chris scampered ahead of her down the staircase and flung open the front door before she even had a chance to touch it. Chris crossed the grass and stared accusingly at Matt, crossing his small arms over his chest.

“You're leaving,” Chris declared.

“Actually I wanted to talk to your mom about that,” he said. “Can you give us a minute, kiddo?”

“You can't go,” Chris said, not to be discouraged. “I need you to stay here. You have to help me with the kids at school.”

“I will help you with the kids at school,” Matt said, squatting down to his level. “I promise, okay?”

“Okay,” the boy reluctantly agreed.

Matt rose to his feet and shot Rachel a smile. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly.

“Hey.” His tone was low and deep, and he stepped closer so that the warmth of his chest emanated against her. “I didn't sign the papers.”

“You didn't?” She gaped up at him. “Why not?”

“Because I couldn't bring myself to do it. I'm in love with you. I can't just leave town and walk away.” His gaze flickered toward Chris, then back to her eyes. “From either of you.”

“You—” She cleared her throat. “You love me?”

“Heart and soul, babe.” He moved a strand of hair away from her face. “Do you love me?”

She nodded, emotion rising in her throat. “Of course I love you. But if it isn't this job, it will be another one—”

“No.” He shook his head. “I made my peace with a few things at the graveyard today, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here in Haggerston.”