Wanted- Fire Chief

by Parker J Cole

  Since that time, Josiah had stuck to every word of the Bible, adhering to its edicts, and its examples of justice and grace. He, along with Eulalia, brought their children up with the admonition of scripture.

  For himself, Nic had come from a family steeped in ecclesiastical pursuits. He loved the Lord with every fiber of his being. How could he not? Grandfather Clyford was a revered pastor along with Grandmother Lavinia, a learned children’s teacher. His father, Sterling, created stirring worship songs as a hymnist, while his mother, Moira, studied daily the scriptures as a biblical scholar.

  So, with all of their combined background of faith, why, oh why, couldn’t they feel remorse for what they had done?

  And why, oh why, had he almost kissed her again this afternoon?

  The thought had raged in his mind for the latter part of the day. When Tabby and Winston had barged in, it has been just at the right moment.

  Part of himself thanked the good Lord for the children’s intrusion. The first time he and Eulalia had kissed, it had been unexpected, a sudden aberration. At least, he’d like to think so.

  But, if he had again succumbed to the lure of her soft, glistening mouth and the banked heat in her blue eyes, what would it have been then?

  Willful disobedience?

  “Are you listening to me, Nic?”

  Eustacia’s slightly shrill voice brought his head and mind up from the blind contemplation of his half-eaten meal. “Obviously I am not, Eustacia.”

  A hard look came into her eyes. “Still thinking of my sister as your second wife?”

  Nic squinted at her in warning. “That’s enough, Eustacia.”

  “Oh, I don’t think it is,” the woman retorted with a sneer. “The way I understand it, you could have it both ways.” She used her hands to illustrate her point. “You have your first wife safely tucked away and out of the sight of prying eyes—”

  His temple throbbed.

  “And then, you can have my sister here.”

  He thought his teeth would break from the amount of force he placed on them as he ground them together.

  “Neither of them would ever have to meet and then you could have two—”

  Nic leapt to his feet. “I’m going.”

  He’d only ever struck one woman in his life. Guinevere’s face flashed in his mind. He swore before the Lord he’d never do it again. But Eustacia was going to make him renege on his vows. Already, his palm itched with the need, the horrible desire to stop the words she spewed out of her spiteful mouth.

  “Do stay, Nic,” she repeated as he started past her, halting him with a light touch on his forearm.

  His skin crawled.

  “No. I’m not going to take another moment of your venom, Eustacia.”

  “Stay, Nic,” she responded, the tone in her voice implacable. “Or, I’ll tell the truth about Guinevere to Lolly.”

  The muscles under her fingers went rigid. Nic glanced down at her. “What truth?”

  The sudden brightness in her dark silver eyes rivaled moonlight as she pounced with three soft-spoken words. “Wickwell Springs, Nic.”

  His heart fell to his feet. No! How did she find out?

  Something of his shock must have appeared on his face because she leaned back and lifted her shoulder. “Need I say more?”

  “What do you know?”

  Insolently, she waved to the seat he’d vacated. “Sit, Nic.”

  It was no longer an invitation, but an order.

  A muscle tensed in his jaw. Did Eustacia really know about Wickwell Springs? Or, was she just calling a bluff? He wouldn’t put it past that card shark intuition of hers which had allowed her to swindle more than one poor fool out of their money.

  “Do you think I’m bluffing, Nic?” Her eyes had a snake-like quality to them. Could he afford to call her bluff? Could he risk it?

  With a sigh, he went back to his seat and sat.

  A pleased smile lifted her lips. “I thought that might get your attention.”

  “The idea that you could think of your own sister that way—”

  “Be careful, Nic,” Eustacia cautioned. “No one loves my sister more than me. When our mother was sent away to live with the nuns, we had no one else but each other. My aunt wasn’t capable of love. She had no idea what it meant.”

  Eustacia lowered her chin and stared directly at him. “All we had during our bleak, dull childhood was each other. So, no one, I repeat, no one loves Eulalia more than me. Not Josiah. Not you.”

  “I’m not in love with Eulalia.”

  He didn’t think so, at any rate. Guinevere was his wife. For all of her failings and for all of his mistakes, he still loved the woman he’d given his heart to six years ago.

  But what did that say for the feelings the kiss with Eulalia had conjured up from a place within him he hadn’t even known existed, much less explored?

  Before that fateful day, she’d simply been the wife of his best friend. She’d made Josiah settle down and had gifted his life with happiness for the past decade. Whenever he’d come to visit them in Silverpines, it had been to join in their domestic bliss which was a far cry from his own.

  “Maybe not,” Eustacia conceded, which surprised Nic. She gave a flippant toss of her shoulder length chestnut brown hair. “But there’s something going on between you two. I intend to put a stop to it.”

  “What do you know about Wickwell Springs?”

  Eustacia stilled, a peculiar expression on her face, one he couldn’t define. Before he could delve any further, she gave him a slow, rather enticing smile. A fleeting thought occurred to Nic. If Eustacia had a better temperament, if she wasn’t so calculating, she’d be a woman that any man would give his right arm for.

  “I had an interesting conversation with Wu Li.”

  She did know!

  “Need I say more?” she taunted him again. The smile brightened, so much so, it softened the hard expression which made her look rather beguiling.

  “You’ve made your point, Eustacia.”

  He couldn’t defeat her. She truly did have the upper hand. Though his feelings were mixed when it came to Eulalia, he didn’t want her, or anyone else to know, about the true state of affairs with him and his wife.

  “Good.”

  The waiter chose that moment to come by with her food. Eustacia held his gaze in twisted triumph as her food was placed before her. When the waiter had gone, she picked up her fork and speared a buttered baby carrot. “Umm, looks good.” She bit down into it. “Tastes even better.”

  “What do you want?”

  She chewed on the carrot for what seemed like an interminable about of time. He piddled with the food on his plate, trying not to let this little game unsettle him although he feared it was far too late for that.

  He’d do anything to protect Guinevere.

  “I want you to stay away from my sister, Nic. I’m done sharing her.”

  “I’m only here to make sure she and the children are okay. Josiah would have wanted me to do that, and you know it.”

  She clinked the fork down on the ceramic plate. “Let’s be clear here, Nic. Josiah wanted you to marry her. And if it wasn’t for Guinevere, you would have by now.”

  He chose to ignore the latter part of her statement. “I’m not going to stop my obligation to ensure Eulalia and the children’s well-being just because you want to keep your sister all to yourself.”

  The Lord hadn’t seen fit to bless Guinevere and himself with a family of their own so he took his role in the children’s lives very seriously. As godfather to Tabitha and Winston, he cared deeply for them as if they were his own.

  He leaned forward. “Tabby and Winston need a father figure in their lives right now. Eulalia lost her husband, the man who took care of her for most of their married life. I may not be able to be here as often as I’d like, but let me assure you, if they need me. If any of them need me, I am going to be there whether you like it or not.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Then
I take it you’re going to be there for them in the capacity of uncle and friend. Not father or husband.”

  “Eustacia—”

  “Make sure that’s all there is to it, although I know there’s more. I can sense it whenever I see my sister. I know it has something to do with Josiah’s ridiculous command that she marry you if he died. But there’s something more.” She peered at him as if she were trying to see into his brain. “There’s more under the surface. I can tell but I can’t discover it.”

  Thank God for small favors!

  “I have nothing to do with Eulalia,” he told her.

  “Make sure of that,” Eustacia warned. “If you do, I’ll keep your dirty little secret to myself. If not, then I will do everything within my power to make sure Eulalia knows how Nicander Montgomery treats his wife. Do you understand me?”

  The threat was unmistakable.

  Nic knew the bond between Eustacia and Eulalia was strong. On one hand, he envied that type of relationship. An only child, he’d grown up with sibling-like bonds with his aunts and uncles who were all younger than him. Besides Josiah, he had no idea what it was like to protect that relationship from outside influences.

  There Eustacia sat, looking pleased and angry at the same time with her scheming and her shenanigans.

  Did he dare play a trump card of his own? Or did he wait?

  Weariness draped over his body just then. No, he’d save his trump card for another day.

  The emotional turn of the day had taken its toll. It was time to sleep and dream. Hopefully, his dreams wouldn’t turn into nightmares as they had for the past several years.

  Nic wouldn’t hold his breath though.

  “I understand you. Quite well.”

  “Good.”

  “Mr. Montgomery, did you enjoy your food? Seems you didn’t eat it all.”

  Mrs. Karson, the proprietress and co-owner of the inn stood by their table, a worried expression on her face.

  “The food was delicious,” he hastened to assure her. “I’m just not feeling well. On no account of the food, of course,” he added when her face paled.

  The company on the other hand…

  “Do you need me to send for Dr. Childs?”

  “Oh no, no need for that.” He stood up and made a show of stretching. “In fact, I think a good night sleep is what the doctor would suggest.”

  He settled the bill and then went out of the dining room to go upstairs to his hotel room.

  “Mr. Montgomery? Mr. Nicander Montgomery?”

  Turning around, surprised to hear his name announced, he spied a boy standing at the entrance of the hotel, his head darting back and forth in both directions. Upon closer inspection, the boy was actually a young man, although still youthful with his lanky limbs.

  “I’m Nicander Montgomery.”

  The boy turned around at the sound of his voice. “Evening, Mr. Montgomery.” He pulled out an envelope from the back of his pants. “A Chinaman came into town this evening to deliver this letter. Widow Wallace wouldn’t let him put it in the cubbyhole meant for the hotel. He offered me a couple of coins for me to deliver it to you.”

  “I see.” Taking the letter, Nic made the boy richer by handing over some more coins.

  He had a feeling he knew what this was about and a glance at the return address proved he was correct.

  Wickwell Springs.

  Nic sighed, feeling the weight of responsibility crush his shoulders. What more trouble could his wife cause now?

  “But Papa said that Uncle Nic would be our new papa. He promised us,” Tabitha cried as she clung to Eulalia’s neck.

  “She’s right, Mama,” Winston chimed in. He believed he was too old to cry but Eulalia caught the telltale sheen in his eyes anyway. “Papa said that if he had to leave and go to Heaven then Uncle Nic would be our new papa.”

  “I know my dears, but Aunt Guinevere is Uncle Nicander’s wife.”

  “But we never see her,” Tabitha moaned.

  “I don’t even know what she looks like,” Winston complained. “And Uncle Nic always comes here by hisself.”

  “Himself,” Eulalia corrected automatically. “That may be the case but Aunt Guinevere is busy and can’t always come to see you.”

  “Busy doing what?” Winston cocked his head to the side.

  I have no idea. “Taking care of Uncle Nicander, silly.”

  “You always tell me to share, Mama,” Tabitha interjected, grabbing her doll. “Can’t you and Aunt Guinny share—”

  “Now, that’s enough of that,” Eulalia interjected, seeing that the conversation was going way too far for her peace of mind and comfort. “C’mon and say your prayers.”

  “If Uncle Nic becomes our new papa, does that mean we have to stop loving our Papa?” Tabitha’s eyes suddenly welled with more tears.

  “Of course not!” Eulalia hastened to assure them. “No matter who your new papa is, you can and will always love your Papa.”

  She realized the bog she stepped in when both of the children scrambled to her. “Then you’re going to marry Uncle Nic?” Winston piped up, his eyes bright.

  “You and Aunt Guinny will share Uncle Nic? May I be the flower girl?” Tabitha queried.

  “Winston, Tabitha, Uncle Nicander is not—”

  What could she say? Should she make her dead husband a liar then? Make him look horrible in front of his children? Their eager faces stared up at her from the dark, their wide eyes begging for hope.

  A hope she was unable to give.

  “We’ll discuss it some other time,” she finished on a wry note.

  Josiah, why did you do this? Hushing the children as they protested, she got them settled by their separate beds. Soon, Winston would need a room of his own but now wasn’t the time.

  Standing in the doorway of their room, she listened as the children knelt and said their nightly prayers. Before Josiah passed, she and he used to do this together: listen to Winston and Tabitha’s petitions to the Lord. From Winston’s heartfelt pleas to heal the little wounded animals he found on his romps to Tabitha’s requests to make her dollies well again from their sicknesses.

  Today, she felt Josiah’s absence more keenly than she ever had before. Instead of his big shoulders to lean upon as she listened to her children’s prayers, there was now only empty space.

  If Nicander were there, he’d fill that space.

  Eulalia stuffed a balled fist in her mouth to keep from crying out at the traitorous thought.

  Despite the fact she loved her husband, an instinctual part of her knew that Nicander would fit right next to her. How easy was it to project his tall, towering frame by her side? See his long, blond hair dancing along his shoulders. Listen to the deep, husky voice murmur the Lord’s prayer along with Winston and Tabitha.

  Lean against him and feel his lips at her temple as—

  Eulalia slammed the door shut on those ideas and forcibly turned her attention back to the children in time to hear them say, “…in Jesus’ name, Amen.”

  After she tucked them in their separate beds and kissed their cherubic faces, already becoming drowsy, she left the door ajar and wandered down the short, narrow hall to the room she’d selected for herself. Whoever had lived here before must have had a young girl. The room still held the air of dreams, first love, and wishes.

  Taking off her robe, she laid it on the chair in front of the vanity and settled into the young girl’s bed. She was glad for one thing: their home had been damaged in the mudslide. It would have wreaked more emotional turmoil on her mind to sleep in the same room she once shared with her husband.

  That didn’t stop you from kissing Nicander in the same room.

  Eulalia jerked to an upright position, her hand splayed over the hammering organ that was her heart. They had kissed in the remnants of the room where she and Josiah had shared their most precious moments.

  She remembered how Nicander had come into town back toward the end of May, having received her letter about Josi
ah’s death.

  When he came to Silverpines, having arrived practically on foot with just his horse and a few provisions, she and the children had run to him, clinging to his broad strength. They found comfort and solace in a man that had been as close to Josiah as any brother of blood.

  “Uncle Nic!” Winston’s voice cried, tears pooling in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Tabitha had simply wrapped her arms around his thigh, holding on for dear life.

  “I came as soon as I could, monkey,” Nicander had told them. Eulalia had received his letter that he may be arriving in the first or second week in May. She hadn’t told the children lest something untoward happened and he couldn’t make it.

  How foolish to think such a thing! Nicander had come just as he said he would. His blue gray eyes had swept over her. “Whatever you need from me, Eulalia, just tell me.”

  Had his sincere pledge caused the breaking down of her defenses? Eulalia toyed with the nap of the blanket. Most of the woman who had survived the disasters had no one to turn to. They’d lost the support of the men in their lives.

  Eulalia, even when she’d been notified of Josiah’s death, knew all she had to do was send for Nicander and he’d take care of her.

  And he had, just as Josiah predicted he would.

  A woman, devastated by loss, could get used to a man like Nicander taking care of her.

  Eulalia’s mind traveled to Guinevere, Nicander’s wife. Although she didn’t know everything surrounded their marriage, Eulalia knew the woman was difficult. Josiah had intimated as much. In what way, she didn’t know.

  Did the woman realize how very fortunate, how blessed she was to have a man like Nicander by her side? Shouldn’t she appreciate a man who would drop everything to come help a friend in need?

  Would she appreciate that you kissed her husband?

  Heat washed over her face at the voice that reminded her. “No,” Eulalia spoke quietly into the darkness of the room. “She wouldn’t appreciate that at all.”