Safe in the Fireman's Arms (17 page)

“What isn’t real? Those kisses we shared?”

Her eyes widened. Of course Jake would go there. Maggie’s face warmed at his words.

She cleared her throat and gathered her composure. “I’m simply saying that maybe we should remember that you’ve been gallantly helping me out these past days.”

Jake’s face hardened and he pinned her with his gaze. “Maggie, I’m not aiming for gallant. Maybe you should consider that I don’t do anything unless I want to.”

Maggie turned her head away, alarmed at his words. Jake might believe those words now, but he’d regret them eventually when he realized that she was threatening his very career.

Going to the barbeque with him wasn’t a smart idea. No, she’d stay home instead and work out her frustrations mulching the ten bags of sphagnum peat Bitsy had provided her instead, while wishing she was the kind of woman a man like Jake deserved.

Chapter Eleven

T
rouble in Paradise
. Jake smelled it in the air the minute he walked into the hardware store. Mack greeted him at the door, clipboard in hand, and followed him to the office.

“Okay, let me have it,” he told his father as he booted up his computer and flipped on the monitor.

“Someone spray-painted graffiti on the back of the store. Way up high. Can’t reach it with the ladder. Coincidentally, we’re missing six cans of spray paint.”

“Nice of them to use our paint. Call the security company and have them run the video footage. Maybe we can find our minor-league criminal.” Jake paused. “I’m wondering how they got up so high”

“No clue.”

“Can you rent a cherry picker?”

“I’ll check on that,” Mack said.

“Tourist season. You gotta love it,” Jake muttered.

He walked over to the coffeepot and eyed the carafe, and then leaned over and sniffed. Mocha vanilla, Irish crème, hazelnut something. Just as he suspected. Bitsy had his father drinking that flavored stuff again.

“Dad, I thought we agreed. No flavored coffee until afternoon. A compromise.”

“Sorry, son, but Bitsy came by with a new one for me to try. Red-velvet cheesecake.”

Jake grimaced and shuddered.

If he hadn’t hit the snooze button he could have beat his father in and enjoyed a cup of real java. Jake opened the small refrigerator and grabbed a can of soda.

“Jacob. Soda at nine in the morning?”

“It’s diet.”

“Did you buy those vitamins Bitsy recommended?”

Jake slowly straightened and turned to his father. He opened his mouth, thought better of it and clamped his lips together.

Popping open the can, he downed the contents with relish. “Anything else?” he asked, referring to the clipboard, not the vitamins.

“Yes. You have a meeting with the sheriff in thirty minutes about some top-secret fire issue. He refused to tell me what’s going on. Oh, and one of the cashiers wants to take a week off to go fishing. Need your approval.” Mack thrust a pink PTO form at him.

Maybe he should consider going fishing. He’d already paid for the license. He set the form on the counter and scrawled his name.

There was a silence in the office as Jake read his mail. Looking up, Jake realized his father was still staring at him, a firm set to his jaw.

“Something else?”

“Sally-Anne called and left a message. She wants you to come over for dinner Friday night. She claims she called last week, too.” Mack scratched his head. “I can’t say I recall that.”

Jake looked at this father. He nearly laughed out loud. If Sally-Anne had called last week, too, his father had torn up the message. Jake was grateful so he sure wasn’t going to call Mack out on that one.

“Why would Sally-Anne call and invite me to dinner all of a sudden?”

“Got me.” Mack stared at him with a disapproving frown. “Thought she gave up on you years ago. Unless...”

“What?” Jake wished he could bite back the word. He shouldn’t have opened that gate. Knew it as sure as he knew the sun was going to set tonight.

“Are you encouraging Sally-Anne? That way lies nothing but drama, son,” Mack continued.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, I’m not encouraging her.”

“Sounds like it to me. Or why would she call?”

“Dad. I’m nearly forty years old, not fourteen. I think I can handle my personal life.” He glared at the coffeepot. “I’m heading out to Patty Jo’s for a real coffee and then to that meeting with Sam.”

He shoved through the double glass doors and fished in his pocket. The keys were on his desk. Terrific. Well, he’d just have to walk, because he sure wasn’t going back in there until he had a few cups of coffee under his belt. He needed to burn off this nagging irritation and ominous feeling that something was about to blow wide open.

Jake released a breath and slowed his stride. Maybe if he’d spent a little more time in prayer this morning. He was as guilty as the next guy of talking, praying and not actually stopping on occasion to listen. Just in case God had something He wanted to say.

He sincerely hoped that it wasn’t a serious omission and God would give him some sort of wisdom on how to deal with everything that came his way today.

Looking up, he saw Maggie down the street. If he continued on his walk to the sheriff’s department, they’d pass each other. He could use a dose of Maggie Jones sunshine this morning. Besides, after their strange conversation as they left Bitsy’s, maybe it would be good to touch base.

Maggie gave a friendly wave, and then suddenly turned and walked in the other direction.

That was odd. Maybe he’d call her later and ask her to dinner. Then he could honestly tell Sally-Anne he had plans.

Great idea. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain Maggie was the best cure for a lousy day.

* * *

“Oh, Jake, I’m sorry. I have the Ladies Auxiliary tonight.”

“I thought they met on Wednesdays.” Phone in hand, he glanced at the calendar on his desk.

“It’s a special session at Bitsy’s house for your summer fire-safety day. The women are really getting behind this idea full force.”

“Okay, sure, yeah. I get it. Great that they’re so enthusiastic. What about tomorrow night?” he asked.

“You know, I’m pretty busy all this week. But I will see you next week when we meet with your father and Bitsy again.”

“Next week. So you aren’t going to the party at the Elliott Ranch, either?”

“I’ve got so much planting and bee work to do.”

“Bee work?”

“Yes. My hives.”

“Your hives. Don’t know how I forgot about them.”

The line was silent for a moment.

“Are we okay, Maggie?”

“I consider you one of my closest friends. Of course we’re okay.”

“Friends. Right.” He was starting to really dislike that word.

“Um, Jake, when exactly is your election?”

“Not until November.” He flipped the pages on the calendar. “Four months.”

“November,” Maggie murmured. “That seems a long way off.”

“It is a long way off. Why do you ask?’

“Just curious.” She sighed.

“Are you sure everything is all right, Maggie?”

“I’m great. Why?”

“You seem a little off today.”

“Oh, no. I’m fine. Couldn’t be better.”

“So I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Paradise is a small town and we have summer fire-safety day coming up,” she practically chirped.

“Can’t wait.”

He put down the phone. Despite her reassuring words, his gut told him something was definitely off. He had a wild hunch that if he dug a little deeper, his intuition would point straight to Bitsy Harmony. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that she was behind whatever was going on with Maggie.

The only good news so far today was that Sam’s background check on Maggie came up empty. Not even a parking ticket in her DMV report. Guilt had addled Jake for hours after he’d asked Sam to run the report.

Truth be told, he hadn’t been absolutely certain Maggie didn’t have something strange in her background. Some friend he was. She was an upstanding citizen and he’d doubted her.

Jake glanced at the clock and picked up the phone. What he needed was to get out of town. A little time and space might provide the perspective he so badly needed. And he could use a sympathetic ear to join him. Sam Lawson was the first name that came to mind.

“Sheriff’s department, administrative assistant Bitsy Harmony speaking. How may I direct your call?”

“Bitsy, it’s Jake. Is Sam around?”

“Yes, Chief, I’ll transfer you.”

Jake waited a second and then Sam came on the line. “What’s up, Jake?”

“Let’s go fishing.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Sam, you there?”

“Call me on my cell in a minute,” Sam said.

Jake disconnected, waited and redialed Sam’s direct number.

“Bitsy listening in?” Jake asked.

“Always. I’m in my truck. She’s had her ear to the ground and her fingers in my business all week. I don’t know why, but it must be something big. Your timing is perfect. I sure could use a break. I’ll call my deputy. He can cover today. I’m off tomorrow and Sunday.”

“I’ll pack the food. You get the bait.”

“Can we get the cabin on Paradise Lake?” Sam asked.

“I called Bob Jones. It’s ours.”

“Duffy coming?”

“No. He’s got a crush on Maggie. I don’t want to spend my fishing time hearing him moon over her. I asked you because you’re not half in love with her like everyone else in this town.”

Sam laughed. “So I’m the only one without the good sense to fall for the woman you’re in love with? I’m not sure if you’ve given me a compliment or an insult.”

“I’m not in love with Maggie.”

“You just keep telling yourself that.” Sam laughed again. “I’ll see you at the cabin.”

Jake relaxed in his chair. Finally, things were under control again. Like the way they used to be.

He grinned, pleased with himself and eager for a break from his responsibilities. It was time for his life to go back to the way it was. Maybe this break would help keep one Maggie Jones off his mind and out of his heart.

Chapter Twelve

W
hat happened? Four weeks ago she’d arrived in Paradise to start over. Now everything was all messed up. Jake, her parents, Beck.

Maggie gave the nearest bag of peat moss a vengeful kick. It burst open, spewing its contents into the air. Grabbing a rake, she spread the peat moss over the garden.

There wasn’t a thing she could do right now about Jake and her parents, except pray, but Beck... It was nearly eight o’clock on a Saturday evening. She’d bet he was home. She could and would deal with him.

She washed her hands and tossed on clean clothes. Ten minutes later she was on her bike, pedaling with determination down the street.

A car. She needed a car and soon. Transporting flowers and plants in the basket was becoming ridiculous. Maybe Mack could give her a lead on a vehicle.

She turned her head toward Mack’s house, but it was dark. He was no doubt at Bitsy’s enjoying dinner. Maggie easily admitted that she was envious of their relationship. The easy friendship and affection.

Behind Mack’s little house, the sun had barely begun to set, providing a brilliant palate of orange and red against a silhouette of clouds. The fading blue sky still managed to peek through.

Maggie froze. A dark cloud moved quickly, winding through the sky.

Smoke. Not a cloud.

Was that smoke coming from the back of Mack’s house? It sure was.

She jumped off her bike and let it crash to the cement as she ran up to the door and banged. “Mack?”

Maggie stepped back to assess the continuing trail of smoke. Yes. From the house and becoming thicker and darker. She was not imagining this.

Reaching for her cell, she hit 9-1-1.

“Nine-one-one. Paradise after-hours emergency dispatch. What is the nature of your emergency?”

“Smoke. Call the Paradise Fire Department. 92 Mulberry Lane. And call Bitsy Harmony.” She shoved the phone into her pocket and dashed over to the big picture window, moving around until she finally found an angle that allowed her to peer into the living room through the glass.

Mack was in a chair in the living room, slumped and not moving.

Maggie’s heart accelerated. “No, Lord. Not Mack. Help me, please.”

She groaned as she picked up an iron lawn chair from the porch and heaved it at the window. The center pane shattered, leaving large shards. Maggie removed her jacket and wrapped it around her hand. She punched at the shards until she had a path into the house.

Jumping through the window, her sneakered foot landed on a piece of glass. She slid across the oak floor, landing face-first against a large piece of furniture. It wobbled precariously.

Maggie shook her head and rolled over onto broken glass. Grabbing a table, she stood and leaned against the wall until she had her balance back.

“Grace under pressure, Maggie. Way to go.”

Heat licked her face. Heat, but no visible flames. Good.

The entrance to the kitchen had become thick with smoke, obliterating her field of vision past the dining room table.

“Mack.” She jostled him. “Mack,” she screamed. He barely moved, his eyelids flickering in response. Maggie checked for a pulse in his neck.

Strong. Thank You, Lord.

The looming smoke inched closer.

Maggie coughed and tucked her head down and away from the smoke. “We have to get out. Now, Mack.”

She unlocked the front door and propped open the screen. Frantic, she glanced around, spotting a large quilt on the couch.

She tossed it on the ground and half dragged, half carried Mack from the chair onto the quilt. Fire horns sounded in the distance, followed by sirens.

The Paradise Volunteer Fire Department. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Engine Number One never sounded so beautiful.

All she had to do was get Mack out of the house.

Give me the strength to do this, Lord.

Drag him. That’s all I have to do. A few more inches to the door.