Yours By Christmas: Park City Firefighter Romance

by Jennifer Youngblood

  “Wesley was arrested for arson and attempted murder.”

  She gulped in a loud breath, her hand going over her chest. “Are you sure?” A wave of dizziness assaulted her. “Why would Wesley do such a thing?” she breathed, white-hot anger shooting through her.

  “Probably to eliminate the competition,” Houston said dryly. “Wesley’s got it bad for you. I’m sure he thought with Beckett out of the picture, you’d turn to him. In the end, he could get you and the trust.”

  Chill bumps rose over Ava’s arms. She’d felt it that night—the feeling of alarm that something wasn’t right with Wesley. Her stomach knotted. She had to get to Beckett. Please let him be okay, she prayed. “Which hospital is Beckett in?”

  “St. John’s.”

  Ava’s mind was spinning so fast she couldn’t think straight. She pulled on a pair of jeans. “Hang on a sec.” She pulled the phone away from her ear and slipped on a sweatshirt. “How do the authorities know it was Wesley?”

  Houston let out a throaty chuckle. “That’s the strangest part about this whole thing. Evidently, as Wesley was going to his car to flee the scene, he found an old woman bashing out his headlights with a crowbar. She’d already banged the side of his car with a shopping cart a few times. Wesley tried to stop her, but the woman attacked him, making such a ruckus that it woke the neighbors. A few minutes later, one of them came out and started filming. Then he smelled smoke, realized Beckett’s place was on fire and called 911. Had the old woman not been there, Wesley might’ve gotten away with it.”

  Her shoes now on, Ava grabbed her purse and keys. She was almost to the garage when she thought of something else—the thing she’d been wanting to show Beckett for a long time. Jogging back to her bedroom closet, she used the wooden stepladder to reach the top shelf, pulling down a box. She ripped off the packing tape, opened the box, and pulled out the item, clutching it in her arms as she darted out the door.

  A nurse approached Beckett’s bed, giving him a sympathetic look. “On a scale from one to ten, what’s your pain level right now?”

  “About a five.” He winced, fighting the urge to touch the base of his skull. A dull pain shot through his head with every beat of his pulse, and his eyes were still burning. He coughed hoarsely, his hand cradling his chest.

  The nurse pushed a needle into the IV stream. “This will help take the edge off.”

  “Morphine?” he asked.

  “Yep. Giving you ten more.”

  “What’s the plan from here on?” Beckett wanted to leave the hospital as soon as possible.

  “The doctor’s still waiting to get the results of the CT-scan. Once he has those, he can determine if you have a fracture or any internal bleeding. All of those factors will determine the length of your stay.”

  He let out a long breath, fingering the blanket. “Thanks,” he mumbled. The hospital was not where he wanted to be three days before Christmas. As soon as Beckett had gotten assigned a hospital room, he used the hospital phone to call his parents. His mother had burst into tears. Beckett had to keep reassuring her that he would be okay. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure how badly the loft was burned. He suspected it would be a total loss with the roof caving in the way it had.

  “What was the cause of the fire,” his dad wanted to know, “faulty wiring?”

  Beckett had tiptoed around the subject the best he could, saying he’d explain everything in person when they arrived at the hospital. His parents would flip when they realized all that had happened. Better to break it to them gently. Next, he called Jazzie, apologizing for not calling her yesterday or showing up to go shopping. He told her about the fire and his, hopefully short, hospital stay. Jazzie had also started crying. Briefly, he spoke to Melinda who assured Beckett that she’d bring Jazzie to the hospital later this afternoon. The fire crew was coming too. One by one, they’d called to check on him the minute they heard.

  More than anything, Beckett wanted to speak to Ava. He didn’t have her number memorized. He grunted. He didn’t even have a cell phone or access to a computer. All he could do was sit here and wait for the doctor to get the scan results.

  He relaxed against the pillow, staring unseeingly at the sitcom on the TV. His mind raced a mile a minute as he replayed the strange events that had come at him in such a short period of time. He’d returned home from the bar, pondering over his strange meeting with the Fruitcake Lady and how she’d helped him clarify things in his mind. She’d prompted him to pray. It was the prayer that helped restore a sense of peace. He got the direct impression that the lady was right—God wasn’t keeping score of the blessings. His love was endless. All this time, He’d been standing there, waiting for Beckett to let Him fully back into his life.

  Beckett was starting to feel excitement over his inheritance, thinking of the many ways he could put it to good use. He decided that he could oversee the business and keep his job as a firefighter. With his two-day-on and four-day-off work schedule, it was doable. Beckett had found himself again in the camaraderie of the crew and responsibilities of the job, and he wasn’t about to give that up.

  Also, he’d been thinking how he wanted to talk to Ava. Not just talk. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her for the duration of a thousand lifetimes. Then, Wesley attacked with the bat and set his loft on fire. He clutched the blanket. The Fruitcake Lady had come to him, helped him get out of the fire. Had she not been there … A shudder ran down his spine. He wouldn’t be here right now.

  Beckett remembered everything he’d dreamt while unconscious. The Fruitcake Lady had been there too, keeping him from getting thrown off the train. The question was—Why? Why did she keep popping in and out of his life? There was no way the woman could’ve followed him home from the bar and gotten into his loft to help him escape. No surprise, none of the other firefighters who responded to the call saw her. Beckett had never given much thought to guardian angels, but now he was starting to suspect that maybe the Fruitcake Lady was one.

  The icing on the cake was what the police officer had told him when he came to the hospital to get a statement from Beckett. Wesley Howard had been taken into custody. The officer related how Wesley had an altercation with a homeless lady. The event was captured on video by Beckett’s neighbors, placing Wesley at the scene of the crime. That, along with Beckett’s testimony, was condemning evidence.

  Beckett laughed to himself. The Fruitcake Lady was feisty, the kind of person you wanted in your corner. He owed her a great debt for saving his life. His thoughts went back to his dream of the woman in the snow. Even though he thought about her every single time he responded to a winter rollover call, it seemed like a different lifetime when he’d met her. She’d made him a deal—that she’d survive the accident if he got his life straightened out. His eyes grew misty as he swallowed. So many times, he’d wanted to track the lady down to tell her that he did indeed make good on his end of the deal.

  He jerked, looking toward the door. For a split second, he thought his eyes were deceiving him—granting him the desire he most wanted. Ava.

  Tears filled her crystal blue eyes, concern etched over her beautiful face as she rushed in. She paused for a second, giving him a tentative look, before dropping the items she was holding and flinging her arms around him. “Are you okay?”

  He returned the hug, appreciating the softness of her hair as it tickled his nose. Joy swelled his heart as he took an assessment of his body. Miraculously, he’d not gotten burned. His head was sore, his eyes still burned from the smoke, and his lungs felt tight. He’d come out great considering the circumstance. He was so grateful to be alive, so grateful for another chance at life with this extraordinary woman. She pulled back, searching his face. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  An easy laugh slid from his lips. “Nothing that a few days of rest won’t cure.”

  Her eyes hardened around the edges. “I can’t believe Wesley would do such a thing.”

  He cocked his head. “How did you know about tha
t? And that I was here?”

  “Houston called me. He saw the fire on the news this morning, recognized your building. The video of Wesley and the woman has also been on the news. Houston told me about that too.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s crazy. What’re the odds that Wesley would get detained by some crazy lady while trying to flee the scene?”

  A lopsided grin tugged at Beckett’s lips. “Yeah, what are the odds?”

  Ava gave him a funny look. “Do you know the lady?”

  “Not well, but I’ve seen her a few times … around.” Someday, he’d tell Ava the full story. Right now, he wanted to just soak her in, savor the fact that she was here. Oh, and he had to set things straight between them. That was the first order of business.

  She touched his cheek, tears glistening in her eyes. “When I got the call…” Her voice went hoarse as she swallowed. “Well, I was afraid I’d lost you.” Time seemed to stop as she locked eyes with him. He was struck by how clear and beautiful her eyes were, like he could see forever in them.

  He chuckled, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “No danger of that,” he drawled. “You’re stuck with me.”

  Tears flowed down her cheeks, hope lighting her eyes. “Does that mean that you can forgive me? For not telling you everything from the beginning?” A pained expression overtook her features. “I should have. I’m so sorry. Please know that my love for you has nothing to do with the trust.” Her voice quivered with intensity. “I promise you that from the depth of my heart.”

  “It was your choice, wasn’t it? To leave me the trust?”

  Ava rocked back, her jaw going slack. “Yes, it was.” She shook her head. “H—how did you know?”

  “I just know.” He cupped her hands with his. “Everything’s forgiven. For the record, I love you too.” A wide smile filled her face. Beckett could’ve sworn it brought a ray of sunshine with it that shot into his heart, warming him down to his toes. He gave her a searching look. “I want to hear everything, from the beginning.” He pushed out a laugh. “And, please, don’t give me that drivel Houston did about me saving the girl from the fire.” His eyes held hers. “I know there’s more to it than that.” His brows furrowed. “There has to be.”

  She swallowed, nodding. “Yes,” she said simply.

  He cocked an eyebrow, a goofy grin spilling over his lips. “Really?” He’d been playing hardball, fearing that maybe there wasn’t any more to the story. Yet, he wanted there to be more. He wanted to understand Milton McQueen and what it was that he saw in Beckett.

  She gave him a tender smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The subtle gesture sent warmth flowing through Beckett. Even the way she moved was intoxicating—so graceful and nimble. “Once you hear the full story, you’ll understand why my grandfather left his trust to you.” She pulled up a chair and sat down. Her eyes grew reflective as she took in a breath, pursing her lips. “Let’s see,” she mused, “where to begin. Remember when I told you about how my mother was killed in a car accident and how I went to live with my dad and grandparents?”

  He nodded.

  “I also told you I had two wonderful years with my dad before he died from his congenital heart defect.” Sorrow touched her eyes, her lips vanishing into a thin line.

  Beckett touched her hand, a swift river of sympathy rushing through him. “You’ve been through so much … I’m sorry.” Briefly, he wished he could erase all the hurt from her life, then he thought better of it. Like him, Ava’s struggles had made her the person she was, and Beckett wouldn’t trade her for anything.

  “Thanks,” she responded softly. “I was raised by my grandparents, Milton and Sadie.”

  Beckett jerked slightly. “Sadie?” His throat went sandpaper dry. The room seemed to contract and expand, and he had the sensation of falling deeper into the bed. “Where did your grandparents live?”

  “Ogden.”

  Beckett’s mind whirled with the possibility. Could it be? He wound his hand around the blanket.

  “My grandmother took it hard when my dad passed. He was her baby, the child she was closest to.” Her voice took on a bitter edge. “Unlike Ted and Libby, my dad actually had a heart. Had he lived, I’m certain that my grandfather would’ve left him the trust.” She drew in a deep breath, her eyes going distant. “Things would get bad for my grandmother around the anniversary of my dad’s death. One snowy evening when my grandfather was at a business dinner, my grandmother took the car and went for a drive. The snow got worse, blizzard-like conditions. The roads were treacherous, my grandmother ran off the road.”

  Beckett drew in a sharp breath, the pieces of the puzzle fitting together. Sadie, blizzard-like conditions, Ogden. His jaw worked, emotion balling in his chest.

  Ava bent down and reached for something at her feet. She handed it to him. Reflexively, he took it, not sure what he was holding at first. He looked down, inspecting it. Then, he let out a surprised gasp, tears rushing to his eyes. “My coat.” His throat squeezed to the size of a straw as he pushed the words out. “The one I gave to the woman in the snow. Your grandmother was Sadie.” Astonishment broke over him like a crashing tidal wave.

  Tears dribbled down Ava’s cheeks as she smiled tenderly. “She always spoke of the angel who saved her. If you hadn’t come along, she would’ve died out there.” She swiped at her tears, sniffling.

  The corners of his lips came down. While he liked Ava thinking of him as a hero, he didn’t want to take any undue credit. “That’s not true. A car came along. The guy driving would’ve seen her.”

  “No, it would’ve been nearly impossible for anyone driving past to see her headlights. And she might have frozen to death or died of blood loss by then.”

  A comfortable silence settled between them, and Beckett knew Ava spoke the truth. He was the one who was supposed to find Sadie. That’s why the Fruitcake Lady made sure he stayed on the bus. “The next day, I went to hospital after hospital to try and find Sadie. No one had a record of her ever coming in.” His voice caught as he chuckled. “As the years passed, I wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing.”

  She squeezed his hand. “My grandfather pulled strings to keep it out of the media.”

  He looked at the amazing woman in front of him, who was fast becoming the focal point in his life. “That conversation with your grandmother changed my life.” He swallowed to clear the emotion. “She was a brave woman.” He laughed at the memory. “She told me she’d survive if I cleaned up my act.”

  “She did survive. She went on to live a couple more years.” Ava paused, her lip quivering. “My grandfather often referred to those two years as the greatest gift of his life.”

  The rest came together like light flooding into a room after the curtains had been drawn. “Your grandfather sought me out at the park.”

  Her eyes glowed with an inner light. “Yes, he had the highest regard for you. He followed your life, was so impressed with how you overcame your demons. That was impressive to me too,” she uttered, “especially after what happened to my mom.” A thoughtful look came into her eyes. “Lots of people appear brave and put together, but it’s only after going through the refiner’s fire that you learn what you’re truly made of.” A sheepish grin tugged at her lips. “I admired you from afar, was influenced by my grandfather’s admiration for you. After my grandfather died, I wanted to quietly observe the type of man you were, on my own terms, before word of the trust got out.” She laughed ruefully. “That night at the bowling alley, I never expected to meet you face-to-face.” Her features softened. “I never expected to fall in love with you.”

  Beckett’s heart soared. He cupped her jaw. “I love you too.” She leaned in and gave him a long, tender kiss that sent a slow-burning desire simmering through him. He could get lost forever in the feel of her wonderful, insistent lips that fit so perfectly with his. He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer. A groan of pleasure sounded in her throat as the kiss deepened. Had he not been in the wretched hosp
ital bed and incapacitated, he would’ve pulled her into his arms and given her a kiss that would’ve lit them both on fire.

  A few minutes later, he pulled back and searched her delicate face, marveling at how blessed he was. “Why did you do it?” He rubbed a hand over her soft, silky hair.

  She tipped her head, a bemused smile tugging at her lips. “Do what?”

  “Relinquish the trust to me.”

  She laughed lightly, the faintest trace of reproof swirling in her captivating eyes. “All that glitters is not gold.”

  He choked on his saliva.

  “Are you okay?” She touched his arm, flashing a look of concern.

  He swallowed, clearing his throat. “Where did you hear that?”

  She shrugged. “It’s something my grandfather would often say when referring to the most precious things in life. It’s from Shakespeare.”

  “Yes, I know,” he murmured. A feeling of pure and undiluted joy burst over Beckett as he let out a warm, throaty laugh. “I love you!” The certainty of his words wrapped around him like a euphoric cocoon. He’d finally found the right woman, his soulmate.

  “I love you too.”

  He looked past Ava and saw the Fruitcake Lady standing in the hall, peering in. Before he could get any words out, she tipped a smile and gave him a salute as if to say, Goodbye. Somehow, in a way that defied words, he knew he’d never see her again. “Thank you,” he squeaked, emotion welling in his chest.

  Ava frowned. “Who are you talking to?”

  Beckett glanced at Ava. “To the woman in the hall.” He smiled broadly. “Ava, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  As Ava turned around to look, Beckett also did the same. The woman was gone.

  “No one’s there.” Ava made a face, turning back to him. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Her voice faltered. “You’re injured. Plus, I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you. Losing everything in the fire. I’m so sorry.”

  He laughed, feeling deliriously happy. “On the contrary, I didn’t lose anything.” His eyes held hers. “I have Jazzie, my parents, …” his voice grew soft “… you.” He traced the curve of her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “You’re everything I need.”