Love Inspired May 2015 #2

by Missy Tippens

  “Beaux. Heel.” Instantly, the Dalmatian slid to a halt, then trotted to Shaw’s side.

  Lainie glared at the man as he approached. Natalie pulled out of her arms. Lainie grabbed the back of her shirt to hold her back.

  “I want to pet the doggie.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “It’s all right.” Shaw commanded the dog to sit then stooped and gestured to the girls. “Want to meet my dog?” They nodded and took small steps forward. Shaw extended his palm. “Hold your hand like this and let him sniff you.”

  With the animal under control, Lainie relaxed her hold on her children. Both girls followed Shaw’s instruction, giggling with delight when Beaux sniffed their fingers.

  “Now pet his head and he’ll be your friend forever.”

  Natalie scratched the dog’s head and ears vigorously, while Chrissy moved to the dog’s side and stroked his black-and-white fur. She smiled at her mother. “He has polka spots.”

  Lainie’s heart still pounded, but at a more normal rate now that it looked as if the animal wasn’t going to eat her children.

  Shaw rose and joined her. “He’s a very gentle animal, but rambunctious.”

  “You should have told me you had a dog.”

  “Would it have made a difference?”

  “Yes.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

  Shaw raised an eyebrow, challenging her statement.

  Lainie turned away. She wasn’t in a position to turn down his help. Dog. Horse. Dragon. It wouldn’t have made a difference because she had nowhere else to go.

  For the time being, she and her daughters were at the mercy of Shaw McKinney. It was Friday afternoon. It would be Monday before she could sort out her financial situation and meet with the mayor. Time in which she’d have to rely on Shaw. Not a comforting thought.

  Copyright © 2015 by Lorraine Beatty

  ISBN-13: 9781460381489

  Winning the Teacher’s Heart

  Copyright © 2015 by Jean Chelikowsky Gordon

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com

  A Hero for Her Son

  When the baby he rescued seven years ago returns—with his widowed adoptive mom—Deputy Fire Chief Matt Bailey can’t turn them away. Desperate to escape the reminders of his failure in the line of duty, Matt is close to leaving town. But one look at Rachel Carter and her son, Christopher, has him second-guessing his plans. Rachel is a mom in need of a hero for her son. But as much as she wants the two to bond, she’s determined to keep her distance from Matt. After losing her husband on the job, she promised never to love another fireman. Yet somehow she finds herself drawn to the one man she should avoid.

  “I’m doing my best to leave town, you know.”

  “I know.” Rachel brought her eyes back to Matt’s face and gave him a sad smile. “And I’m not stopping you.”

  “As long as I can do well with the presentation to the schoolkids tomorrow, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the job.”

  “Congratulations.” She forced a smile and nodded quickly. “You deserve it.”

  “I’m not as excited as I thought I’d be.”

  “No?” She tried to force some cheerfulness, but failed. “I’m sorry. You’re my first friend here in town, and I’m going to miss you.”

  “Me, too.” He sighed. “If things were different—”

  “You don’t have to say it,” she said quietly. “It’s okay. They aren’t different.”

  Rachel couldn’t help the melancholy thoughts that rose up inside her. She thought of her husband, who’d died too soon, of her son whose birth mother hadn’t been able to care for him, of her attempts to rebuild a life for her little boy, and now of Matt who had wormed his way into her life, and who would be off to new adventures just as soon as he could manage it. She felt lonely standing there, because no matter how solid and reassuring he felt right now, this wouldn’t last.

  Patricia Johns willfully became a starving artist after she finished her BA in English literature. She lived in a tiny room in the downtown core of a city, worked sundry part-time jobs to keep herself fed and wrote the first novel she would have published. That was over ten years and ten novels ago. She’s now married with a young son, and always has a new book on the go.

  Books by Patricia Johns

  Love Inspired

  His Unexpected Family

  The Rancher’s City Girl

  A Firefighter’s Promise

  A Firefighter’s Promise

  By Patricia Johns

  He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul.

  —Psalms 23:2–3

  To Deputy Fire Chief Tim, our own hometown hero.

  And of course, I dedicate this book to

  my husband, who inspires the romantic in me.

  He still makes my heart race.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Rachel Carter licked her finger and wiped a smear of chocolate from her son’s cheek. He squirmed away from her and made a face.

  “Mom, stop it,” he complained.

  “Stand still, Christopher.” She pulled a tissue out of her jeans pocket to finish the job. “Are you ready?”

  The boy twisted around to look at the firehouse. “This is it?”

  Rachel’s gaze flickered past her son’s face to the two-story brick building. Old-fashioned brickwork surrounded three large garage doors, and a row of windows stretched across the second story. July sunlight filtered through the rustling leaves of two spreading oak trees, dappling the broad drive. From high in the branches, a squirrel chattered down at them, and Rachel paused and looked up, searching for the noisy critic.

  Rachel had spent more than enough time at a firehouse like this one back in Billings. From Christmas dinners up in the barracks when her husband had to work over the holidays to quick visits over his long shifts and having to stand back and let him dash off into danger when that siren whooped. She treasured the memories of her late husband, but firehouses didn’t bring back pleasant memories for her. It was a demanding job, and not even halfway glamorous for the families of the men and women who put their lives on the line for their communities.

  “This is it.” She tucked the tissue back into her pocket and reg
arded her son’s pensive face. “This is your firehouse, Chris.”

  “Will the fireman remember me?”

  “You’re pretty hard to forget, sweetheart.” She slid a hand over his rumpled blond curls, and he rewarded her with a grin. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Angling around the side of the building, Rachel found the main entrance, which faced a small parking lot. She pulled open the door and was met with a welcome blast of air-conditioning. A middle-aged woman sat behind the reception desk, and she looked up with a pencil tucked behind one ear and a distracted smile.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  Rachel tucked an errant strand of dark hair back into her ponytail and scooped up Christopher’s hand in hers. “Hi, I’m Rachel Carter. We’re here to see Captain Matthew Bailey.”

  “Captain?” The woman raised an eyebrow. “That’s Deputy Fire Chief Matthew Bailey.”

  “Oh.” Rachel nodded, registering the higher position. “Is he here?”

  The woman narrowed her eyes. “Do you have an appointment, miss?”

  Rachel shook her head. “No. I tried calling a few times, but I never did hear back from him.”

  The receptionist didn’t look impressed with her excuse, and Rachel didn’t entirely blame her. The security in a firehouse was tight, military-style, and no one just squeezed in.

  “The deputy fire chief is a very busy man—” the woman behind the desk began.

  A throat cleared to the side and Rachel turned to see a tall man with sandy-blond hair, a tinge of gray at the temples. A pressed navy blue uniform tapered down from wide shoulders to a trim waist, and his dark gaze swept over her as he shot her a lazy grin. Warmth rose in her cheeks.

  “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

  “Are you—” she paused, adjusting her mind to his new title, and firmly putting his good looks aside “—Deputy Fire Chief—”

  “Matt Bailey.” He held out a broad, calloused hand.

  “I’m Rachel Carter, and this is my son, Chris.”

  Christopher stared up at the deputy chief, eyes wide. He pressed his lips together into a thin line. He moved a couple of inches closer to Rachel’s side, but his eyes were pinned to the tall firefighter.

  “Nice to meet you.” Matt clasped her hand in a brief handshake. “You’re looking for me?” He regarded her in mild curiosity.

  “I am, but it’s a little bit delicate. Is there somewhere we could talk?”

  The receptionist raised her penciled eyebrows and leaned forward in unveiled interest, but Matt gestured down a short hallway. A few office doors opened up on either side, and Rachel tugged her son along with her. Matt’s polished shoes clicked against the tile floor, and he stopped at a doorway, glancing back at them with a casual smile.

  “Come on in.” He gestured them inside, and as she passed him, the musky scent of his cologne tickled her nose.

  The room was small and neat, consisting of not much more than a desk and a few file cabinets. Christopher sank into a chair, his gaze locked on the big man, and Rachel remained standing. Matt looked down at the boy thoughtfully, then shifted his attention to Rachel.

  “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

  “Seven years ago, a baby was dropped off on the doorstep of this firehouse.” Rachel’s hand fluttered toward her son’s shoulder. “We were told that Captain Matthew Bailey was the one who found him.”

  “Yes, I did find a baby a few years back.” His gaze moved back to Christopher and he cleared his throat.

  “This is him,” Rachel said. “My husband and I adopted Christopher shortly after Social Services picked him up.”

  “Oh, I see.” Matt nodded several times. “Hi, buddy.”

  “Hi.” Christopher eyed the big man uncertainly. “You don’t recognize me?”

  “It’s been a while.” A smile flickered at the corners of Matt’s lips. “You’re a lot bigger now.”

  Christopher nodded. “I guess.”

  “So you came to see the firehouse?” Matt asked.

  “We came to see you, actually.” Rachel straightened her shoulders. Was she completely out of line doing this? She wasn’t even sure. “Christopher has wanted to meet the firefighter who found him for a long time now. I’ve tried calling but never seemed to get through. I’m sorry to just drop in on you like this, but Chris was hoping to meet you.”

  “Well.” Matt’s tone turned formal. “It’s all part of the job, Christopher. As a firefighter, I’m here to help the community, and that might be in a fire or at an accident, or even calling Social Services to pick up a baby.”

  Pick up a baby. Rachel glanced down at her son, not missing the disappointed slump in his small shoulders.

  “Did you want to ask Mr. Bailey anything, Christopher?” she prompted hopefully.

  Christopher shook his head and looked down.

  “But you remember Christopher?” Rachel turned a pleading gaze onto the man before her. She understood his job better than he probably realized, but a little boy mattered more than whatever meetings and paperwork awaited him, and she wasn’t going to let this slide by so easily.

  “Do I remember you, buddy? Absolutely. It’s not every day that a baby gets dropped on our doorstep. Here is an interesting bit of trivia for you. Did you know that firehouses have become a safe place for mothers to drop—” He stopped and cleared his throat again.

  Unwanted infants. At least he’d stopped himself. Rachel stared at the deputy fire chief as silence stretched awkwardly between them. Capping the rising irritation inside her, she smiled coolly.

  “Do you think Christopher could look at the fire trucks for a couple of minutes while we talk alone?” she asked.

  Matt nodded. “Sure.” A firefighter crossed the open doorway and Matt rose to his feet. “Johnson!” Was that a hint of desperation in his voice?

  The man turned back. “Yes, sir?”

  “Would you mind showing this young man the fire trucks for about five minutes?”

  “Sure thing, sir.”

  Christopher looked toward Rachel for permission and she smiled reassuringly. “Go ahead, honey. I won’t be long.”

  Christopher left the room, the firefighter’s voice echoing down the hall as he explained some details about the trucks they’d see shortly, and Rachel turned around and shot the deputy chief a withering look. Matt’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “A little bit of trivia?” She shook her head in exasperation. “He’s barely seven years old.”

  “Yes...” Matt didn’t seem to know how to answer that declaration.

  “Look, I get that we just kind of dropped in on you, and I can appreciate how awkward this is.” She sucked in a breath. “I just want you to know that this really matters to Chris. He really latched on to the story of how you found him. My husband was a firefighter, too, so the whole firefighting thing is pretty important in our family.”

  “I didn’t realize you’re married to a firefighter. Is he retired?” Matt asked.

  “No, he died in the line of duty.”

  Matt scrubbed his hands over his face and heaved a sigh. “What happened to him?”

  “He was run down by a drunk driver when he was hooking up hoses to put out a fire at an accident.” She brushed a wisp of hair off her forehead. “Chris was two at the time, so he doesn’t remember him.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Ed Carter.”

  He nodded slowly. “I remember reading about his passing. That was in Billings, right? I’m really sorry, Mrs. Carter.”

  “Thank you.” She softened her tone. “It was a hard time. That’s part of the job, isn’t it?” She couldn’t help the tremor of anger that rose up inside her when she thought about her husband’s death. She knew that he was a hero for his sacrifice, but it didn’t change that h
e’d left a young family behind who still needed him.

  “I guess so.” His blue eyes met hers and held her gaze for a long moment. “I’m sorry about how I handled this with your son. I’m not good with kids.”

  “Kids can be a handful,” she agreed quietly. She knew that better than anyone. “But my son is a little more complicated than others.”

  “Oh?”

  “He’d been fighting at school, and he was only in the first grade. It had gotten so bad that he was expelled. Our family counselor in Billings suggested that I bring him here to explore his roots, as it were. He’s searching for something, and I need to help him find it.”

  “You think I’m part of that?”

  Suddenly it seemed as though she was asking too much. Matthew Bailey didn’t know her, or her husband. He didn’t owe them anything, and if Chris was struggling, it certainly wasn’t his problem. She grimaced.

  “I’m sorry. This isn’t your problem, and I should be—”

  “I didn’t say that.” His eyes locked on to hers and he dipped his head down slightly to keep the eye contact. “This matters a lot to your little boy.”

  Rachel let out a pent-up breath. “Yes.”

  “I wish you’d given me a bit of notice.” There was a smile tugging at his lips again, and the heat rose in her cheeks.

  “I called three times and left messages, but I didn’t hear back from you,” she attempted to explain. She shouldn’t have brought Chris here without making an appointment—that was a mistake. She was normally more cautious and planned than this.

  “We’ve got a new receptionist.” He shrugged. “It’s been...interesting around here.”

  They were both silent for a long moment, and Rachel attempted to keep her mind away from this firefighter’s rugged good looks. She’d been married to a firefighter already, and she knew better than to go down that road again. But she was here, and she’d already trampled all over every polite boundary—