Rescued by the Firefighter

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  He shook his head, a half smile on his face. “I can’t picture you wallowing.”

  “Oh, but I do. It’s something new, another weakness, that’s happened since my cousins encouraged me to move here after my mother died.”

  His grin faded. “They’re nice ladies. Devon and Jon caught two good ones.”

  A grin slipped to her mouth. “You make them sound like fish.”

  His belly laugh surprised her, and she chuckled along with him. “I’ve always been very private, and talking about my problems is something I’ve never done. I’ve tried to understand why I’m compelled to open up to you.” Though blunt, the truth had to be spoken. She wanted him to understand her struggle.

  He reached across the table and slipped his hand over hers. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. I don’t mean to pry. I only thought it might—”

  “I know you’re not prying. I’m the one who blubbered all over your shirt.” She leaned closer with her free hand and placed it on his chest. “It’s dry now.” Warmth rushed through her palm to her fingertips as his well-toned physique stirred beneath the knit shirt.

  “If it were drenched, Paula, I wouldn’t care.”

  His expression washed over her—kind, tender, honest—the kind of look that she’d missed with Vic. Seeing Clint’s sincere ways, she should have known Vic was using her, but at the time she didn’t care. When desperate, blocking reality had a value, but lately she’d begun to face the truth. She’d been hungry for love, a kind of hunger that turned lies into hopes. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind the next time I need to cry.”

  “I hope you do.” His eyes captured hers.

  Like a cord binding them, she felt close to him, a feeling she couldn’t explain. A kinship, perhaps. The silence lingered, a comfortable quiet only disturbed by a chirping bird and the breeze ruffling the shrubs nearby. “Would you like to hear about my second problem?”

  “If you’re ready to talk.”

  “The buyer for my mother’s house backed off. No sale.” The words caught in her throat. “I hate to tell Devon and Ashley. They were so excited that I planned to buy the house.”

  He turned his head as he focused into the distance for a moment until his eyes met hers again. “Remember, it’s only been on the market for a short time.”

  She nodded. “But I have no guarantee when it will sell. So many homes take years. They don’t want to wait that long. I hate to tell Ash and Devon.”

  “But it’s smart thinking. Waiting makes sense. You don’t want to jump into something you can’t handle. When it comes to finances, I...”

  She brushed her knuckle across her eyes where tears had begun to form. “I’m just disappointed. I’ll get over it. I always do.”

  “You probably don’t want my opinion, but you’d be smarter to stay with Fred, even rent a small apartment, until you can make a secure move into your own house. My parents taught me to be sensible. Having savings means more than—”

  She flexed her palm, not wanting to hear his lecture. “I really want that house, Clint. It’s close to family. Ashley and Devon are right down the block, and—”

  “You’ll find another house close by when you can afford it. Never take chances when it comes to security.”

  Stopping Clint served as much purpose as holding back the tide. Hopeless. Still, she looked at his expression and read his meaning. “I’m like a little kid, Clint. I want things when I want them. I know a woman of my age should know that it’s not the end.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “Definitely not the end. It’s only the beginning.”

  The beginning. Her hopes rose again, but she pushed them aside. The man wanted a woman he’d met in church, not one who trusted a jerk like Vic, who’d knocked the stilts out from under her with his treatment. But Clint received support from his family. He had no idea what it was like to learn from making mistakes and then having to repair them.

  She didn’t want a lecture, but she’d learned one thing about Clint. He was a straight arrow, a man of honor, although she found herself questioning his advice. Somewhere along the way, she’d picked up some warped judgments. Maybe she could undo them. Her mind slipped back into her pre-Vic mode. She’d been far more open and trusting then, even though her life was a mess.

  “You’re quiet.” Clint searched her face, his look reflecting his own confusion. “I didn’t mean to bring you down.”

  She’d done that herself. “I’m questioning my judgment. Maybe I should think things through without being nestled in the family’s embrace. You know?” She analyzed his expression and questioned whether he understood or not. “Sometimes I ask myself if I should stay here. I’ve never been dependent on anyone.”

  “No.” His hand rose, his palm flexed.

  Though his face reflected concern, his vehemence startled her. “What are you saying? I don’t think you understand what we’ve been talking about. I have no job. No house. No assur—”

  “Have you always run away from problems, Paula?”

  She’d never called it running away, but maybe that’s what she did. She gave a nod, assured that trying to hide reality from Clint was useless. He always read the truth in her face.

  “If you’ve spent your lifetime running, you’ve given up hope. Being hopeless isn’t the kind of life that makes anyone happy. How many times have I seen you laugh when you’re with Fred and your cousins? The day I met you, you said things that made me chuckle. Life can be filled with joy. Fun. But you’ll never find it if you don’t take a chance. Stay in one place and deal with problems. Running solves nothing. Confronting does. I’ve run away, too, Paula, in my own way.”

  She tried to recall what she’d said to trigger his adamant comments. But it didn’t really matter. Letting his message soak into every pore, she was nourished by the images that rose in her mind and she could only utter a truth. “I have loved it here.”

  “I’m not challenging you, Paula. I only want you to dig deep for the answers. Nothing comes to the surface without a willingness to dredge up the sludge and find the gold. Running stomps down character. Standing firm builds it.”

  She drew up her shoulders, recognizing the truth he spoke. Though his words stung, Clint had a way of stating the truth. “You’re right. I know you’re right, but sometimes it’s easier to walk away than deal with it.”

  “Give it time. The house will sell, and I’m sure that Devon and Ashley won’t be fazed. I guarantee.”

  “You are sure of yourself.” She managed a grin, longing to lighten the moment.

  “Firefighters have to be confident.”

  Though she’d never given it thought before, she would want a person who saved others to be sure-footed—even someone rescuing her. A chill shivered down her spine. Was saving her Clint’s mission? Did he want to rescue her from herself? She met the questions with confusion, even disappointment.

  Though she’d grappled with her feelings for him, she wanted his friendship if nothing more. At this time in her life, she needed a friend, a person who could choose to like her without feeling an obligation. She appreciated her cousins treating her like a third sister, but she was family. They really didn’t have a choice.

  While her mind raced with questions, Clint had risen and extended his hand. “The sun moved and we’re in the shade. It’s too cool for you out here. Would you like to see the inside?”

  The offer intrigued her. Clint had anticipated her wish again. She needed a distraction from their serious conversation, and his awareness, his overall thoughtfulness, calmed her. While her hand remained in his, his strength became hers. “I’d love to.”

  * * *

  Clint’s eyes blurred as he viewed the training video. He’d seen this one numerous times, yet reviewing the skills he needed to be a firefighter headed the top of his “important” list. But today his
mind drifted back a few days to when he showed Paula his home. Maybe he’d been wrong to give her a tour as if he were rubbing her nose in the lack of her own place.

  Her house plans and her financial situation tumbled like a house of cards. When they’d talked earlier, her attitude about finances concerned him. Though she’d captured a piece of his heart, certain aspects left him thinking. Why didn’t she have savings? Yes, she’d apparently cared for her mother and perhaps had to take a leave from her job, but still...

  He’d been raised to save money and budget. At first, Paula’s decision to buy the house had been made without thinking it through. Her drive to own a home blanketed the need to have a solid plan to pay for it. He rubbed his neck, remembering he’d probably said too much to her, but she’d been clinging to the edge of common sense. Still, her sensitivity preceded her ability to handle a lecture. Learning to shut his mouth was a necessity, or he’d damage the new friendship they’d developed. She needed a friend, but then so did he. She’d already been through the loss of her mother and uprooting herself to Ferndale. His comments had verged on a turnoff for her. He could have uprooted their fragile friendship with his blabber—his know-it-all attitude—and he would never forgive himself.

  And then he may have added fuel to the fire, not something an intelligent firefighter wanted to do. When he’d invited Paula inside, he’d been aware of her guarded reaction to things, but he’d suggested it anyway, anxious to see Paula in his home, to see how she looked in the kitchen or seated in his family room. Sometimes he pictured her there beside him. Foolish, he knew. The images troubled him at times—another conundrum—a bittersweet moment, like dreaming the impossible dreams he’d heard about in song.

  He pressed his back against the less-than-comfortable chair, facing an awareness he’d had during their talk. Though he’d encouraged Paula to relate her problem, he had also understood that Paula wasn’t the only one running. He hadn’t felt at peace since his marriage plans had collapsed.

  Life had passed him by after Elise left. He went to work, did the laundry and kept the house somewhat clean, but his social life had sunk into an abyss. He didn’t want to date. Having fun seemed impossible so he stayed home. He’d even passed on going to the movies or to dinner with Devon until one day Devon put his foot down and wouldn’t accept his refusal. That day began his uphill climb.

  Paula needed something...someone. Perhaps encouragement to stick it out and fight for what she wanted in life rather than give up. She’d made it clear that running sometimes seemed easier than standing still and grasping for the future. But truth be told, they both needed to stop dwelling on things they couldn’t change and get on with life.

  Maybe Paula and he could find answers in each other. He couldn’t think of anyone more lovely to heal with. As she had told him about the house sale falling through and her thoughts about moving away from Ferndale, he longed to take her in his arms and hold her. He wanted to understand the depth of her problem. Running hinted that something else caused the reaction, something more dire. It wasn’t her mother’s death or her lack of savings. Those were situations in her past she couldn’t change. Or was she trying to run away from herself? That seemed impossible. Paula had strength that could fight off many battles. He’d seen hints of it. So what was it that nearly did her in?

  His eyes flew open as the video ended. The others rose, rustling papers and sliding their chairs into place. He looked around, hoping no one had witnessed his lack of attention. Not a single person gave him any notice so he breathed a relieved sigh. As he rose, he sensed someone behind him. When he turned, he saw Devon leaning against the door frame and watching him.

  Guilt skittered up his back. The man knew him too well, and he waited for the question.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Thinking.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I know I need to watch the—”

  “You’re seasoned, Clint. We show the videos as a review, especially for the newer guys although it helps all of us to stay on our toes.”

  Clint found no meaningful response, and he trailed along with Devon heading for the day room, his mind on his tasks for the shift. Before he made the turn, Devon paused and rested his hand on Clint’s shoulder. “You’ve been spending time with Paula. I’m glad. She needs friends.” Devon eyed him with obviously more on his mind. “How’s it going?”

  His face heated, a giveaway to the feelings he’d tried to hide, but he wasn’t fooling anyone, especially Devon. “She needed to talk, and I offered to listen.”

  “Good excuse.” Devon chuckled. “I’m happy to see you stepping out a little, pal. You’ve been harbored too long. Time to get the paddles working.”

  “She’s nice. I like her, but really, she needed to talk and I—”

  “Don’t explain. I know.” He squeezed Clint’s shoulder and lowered his hand. “I’m guessing it was about the house sale falling through.”

  He nodded, hoping he hadn’t overstepped her confidence.

  “I’m sure you knew we wouldn’t stop her from buying the house. A job will come, and her mother’s house will sell eventually.”

  “That’s what I told her.” But he’d also told her not to buy the house until she had the finances, and not just finances but a solid savings. He fidgeted in his pocket, trying to pull out his hankie. He didn’t need it, but it gave him something to do. He considered Devon a best friend, but at the moment, he felt cornered.

  “Have you thought about asking her out?” Devon searched his face. “On a date, not just to talk.”

  “You’re too nosy, pal.”

  “Just getting even. I remember a year or so ago, when I was getting the sly questions and winks from you prying into my visits with the ‘young woman trapped under the tree.’ Remember?”

  Clint chuckled, his discomfort easing. “I think you quoted that verbatim.”

  “Close, at least.” Devon gave him an elbow. “But being serious, Paula’s been through a lot.”

  “I know a little about her family life but not much more.” His anticipation grew as he wondered what Devon might know that he didn’t. “How about you? Any details?”

  “Paula holds things in. I’m not sure Ashley knows much more than I do.” Devon glanced at his watch. “Paula needs time to trust people. At least that’s my take on it.”

  Clint nodded and let it drop. Even if Devon knew something, he’d probably not feel right sharing it.

  “No matter what, she can use a wise, steadfast friend, and as you know, I think one Clint Donatelli can be that person with the help of a quick kick in the pants. Life is in front of you, buddy, not behind.”

  “Thanks for your sage advice, Mr. Cupid.” Though a ripple of heat unsteadied him, he winked at Devon. “I’ll take your comments under advisement.”

  “Good, and to help you along, Ashley has invited you over for a wild game of Sequence. Can you make it Sunday evening?”

  “Never heard of the game, but Sunday night’s open.”

  Devon grinned. “Not anymore.”

  Clint let Devon’s lightheartedness spirit his attitude. He turned toward the day room but halted when Devon called his name.

  “In case you didn’t guess, Paula will be there, too.”

  Clint’s stomach tightened. “I suspected.” He raised his hand and didn’t look back. All he needed was someone pushing him when he needed time to let the idea grow. At this point, the idea of a friend felt good, but he wasn’t totally confident it was what he should do or what he needed. First, his old baggage needed to be dumped.

  He hesitated before continuing through the doorway. That wasn’t it at all. The truth nettled him. It had nothing to do with need, and good intentions weren’t a factor. His heart attested to that every day. Getting involved with a woman left him uncertain what direction he “could” go. Though questions still battered his mind, answers m
ight ease his confusion and strengthen his confidence.

  He saved lives for a living. Why couldn’t he save his own?

  * * *

  Paula watched the last couple arrive, one she didn’t know but remembered from the wedding.

  “I think you all know Sal and his wife, Maureen.” Devon gazed around the room and stopped at her. “Paula, do remember them? Sal is one of our crew.”

  She hated being the focus of everyone’s attention, especially Clint’s. He’d sat nearby, but they’d only talked a short time before Neely and Jon arrived and Clint shifted to his seat. “From the wedding, I think.” She sent them a smile, hoping it looked sincere. As happened too often at these events, she’d slipped into her distant mode. Groups made her uneasy, but then she’d rarely been involved in social situations. Her life had been mainly one-on-one.

  After they were settled and had poured something to drink, Devon introduced the game. Most everyone knew it except Clint and her, so everyone had to go through the rules while she and Clint tried to understand the game.

  Ashley stepped into the living room through the dining room archway. “We play in couples.” She grinned at the group. “Sal and Maureen, Neely and Jonny.” She paused, her eyes shifting from Clint to her. “Paula and Clint and Devon and me.” She pointed to the dining room. “Sit across from your partner.”

  Paula rose and had started toward the doorway when Sal clasped her arm. “So what’s the secret here?” She realized he’d also nabbed Clint with the other hand. “Man, you got this beautiful woman and never said a thing at work.” He dropped his hand and guffawed. “Some men are too possessive.” He gave Paula a wink and followed his wife into the dining room.

  The last two left behind, Clint looked at her and shrugged. “Sorry. He made an assumption, and I hated to—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Her heart lodged in her throat. “We can’t disappoint the man.” She managed to grin, relieved her response hadn’t sounded as choked as it felt.