Love Inspired May 2015 #2

by Missy Tippens

  “I hope this isn’t too much to ask, but would you be willing to talk to Christopher a little bit?” Rachel hesitated, then plunged on. “I don’t mean about the fighting, just about—” she shrugged “—finding him, that sort of thing. I know that my husband wasn’t part of your firehouse, but—I’d appreciate this a lot.”

  Matt was silent for a beat, then nodded.

  “I could try, but I should warn you that I’m not the smoothest guy with kids. There is another firefighter who was there that night who might be a better guy to talk to Christopher. He has four kids of his own and he just seems to connect with children better than I do.”

  Rachel’s gaze trailed around the small, impersonal office. There was more to the story—the part where she’d failed her son, too. She hadn’t wanted to tell this part. In fact, she’d hoped that a little visit with Christopher’s firefighter would be the beginning of some healing. She hadn’t counted on Matthew Bailey having his own complications.

  “I didn’t tell Christopher that he was adopted right away,” Rachel confessed. “I knew I was supposed to, but when Ed died, it blindsided me and I never could find the right moment, or the right words. Last year he asked me about being inside my tummy, and I had to tell him the truth. It was really hard for him.” She sighed. “When I told him about you and how you’d found him and held him, that seemed to comfort him a lot. So I told him the story about being found on your doorstep quite often.”

  “You might have made me into more of a hero than I really am,” he said.

  “Maybe,” she agreed with an apologetic smile. “But he’s a kid who needs a hero. And right about now, you fit the bill.”

  “How long are you in town?” he asked, his tone low and warm.

  “For good,” she replied with a quick nod. “I’ve just been hired at the Broxton Park Elementary School to teach the fourth grade.”

  He froze, dropped his gaze, then cleared his throat. “It opens again this year.”

  “Yes, I’d read that there was a fire, and this year it will reopen. I’m really grateful for the opportunity. I have family here in Haggerston, and it will be good for Chris to be closer to relatives.”

  He didn’t answer for a long moment, and there seemed to be complicated emotions flickering behind those steely eyes, a hint at what lay behind that granite mask.

  “And if I can return the favor, I will,” she added quickly. “Here is my phone number and address.” She pulled a slip of paper out of her purse and slid it across the desk. “If there is anything I can do... Maybe you have some children in your family who need to be tutored or perhaps I can be of some assistance to the fire department when it comes to school groups or—”

  The phone rang and Rachel clamped her mouth shut. Matt picked up the call. He averted his gaze as he spoke quietly, too low for her to make out the words. After a moment, he hung up and shot her an apologetic smile.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve got a meeting.”

  Rachel hitched her purse up on her shoulder and nodded quickly. This was getting more and more awkward by the minute, and all she wanted to do right now was to retreat. “Of course. I know that you’re busy and I’m grateful for squeezing me in. Thank you for your time, Deputy—”

  “Matt.”

  She blinked. “Pardon me?”

  “Call me Matt. And I’m not trying to get rid of you. Maybe we could talk more later. I might be able to take you up on your offer, too.”

  Rachel’s cheeks grew warmer. “I’m glad. And thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  He reached out a hand and enveloped her slender fingers in his warm grip. A shadow darkened the doorway, and Rachel stepped back to allow the man entrance.

  As she slipped from the small office, she glanced back and found Matt’s warm gaze locked on her over his visitor’s shoulder. A smile flickered over his lips and he turned his attention back toward the gentleman in his office. Rachel smothered a sigh and turned her steps in the direction her son had gone. This wasn’t going to be as simple as she’d hoped.

  * * *

  As the petite dark-haired woman disappeared down the hallway, Matt closed his office door. She was persistent—he’d give her that. She was also one of them—the widow of a firefighting brother, and he couldn’t just forget about that. Firefighters were a tight group. When you put your own life on the line, you had to trust your brothers to step up and take care of your family if the worst-case scenario happened.

  Which had happened for Ed Carter, God rest his soul. He remembered that death clearly because it had been so pointless. The firefighter had been hooking up hoses in order to fight a fire on a rolled tanker when a drunk driver careened by and took him out. Death in a fire seemed more acceptable, somehow, than the way Ed Carter had died, and it felt strange to know that he’d just met Firefighter Carter’s widow.

  She’s beautiful.

  This wasn’t exactly the thought that was appropriate for a time like this, and he pushed it back and turned his attention to his visitor.

  The portly gentleman settled himself in the visitor’s chair without much room to spare. He was an older man with gray, thinning hair and red cheeks.

  “It’s good to meet you, Matthew.” The older man adjusted himself and shot Matt a grandfatherly smile.

  “Likewise. It’s nice to put a face to the voice, Mr. Bernard.”

  “This is the less formal part of the process. Don’t think of this as an interview—it’s more of a meet and greet.” He held out a business card.

  “Understood.” Matt accepted the card and scanned the details. He wasn’t fooled, though. This was most certainly an interview.

  “I sit on the South Maitland city hiring committee,” Mr. Bernard explained. “I’m just here to get to know you a little bit. I want to see your style, what you’ve done here in Haggerston.”

  “My pleasure.” Matt leaned back in his chair.

  “You’ve applied to be fire chief in South Maitland,” he went on. “And obviously we’re taking your application seriously. You’ve put your time in, and you’re well respected.”

  “I appreciate that, sir.”

  “Your résumé shows that you’ve worked your entire career right here in Haggerston.”

  “I grew up here,” Matt replied.

  “What drew you to apply to South Maitland, then?”

  “I’m ready for the next challenge,” he said. “And the next step isn’t always available in your backyard.”

  “Was it a difficult choice?”

  Matt knew what Mr. Bernard was asking—was he going to regret moving across the state and leaving his hometown, his family and his memories behind. The truth was, he wasn’t just willing to go; he needed to go. There were things that he needed to escape, and this job in South Maitland was going to be his salvation.

  “Not at all.” Matt shook his head and gave an easy smile. “I’m ready to move on.”

  Mr. Bernard smiled. “Glad to hear it, son. So tell me what makes you the right man for the job.”

  Matt exhaled slowly, then shrugged. “I’ve been working toward this step for the last five years. I’ve been working on my certifications and my management degree for longer than that. This has been my career goal all along. I love what I do. It’s not a job, it’s my life, and I think that matters.”

  “And the move across state doesn’t pose any complications for you?”

  “None.” Matt pushed back his chair. “What strengths are most important to you in this hiring process?” It was time to ask a few questions of his own.

  “Leadership, flexibility, integrity—” Mr. Bernard nodded slowly. “We also want to step up the community connections with the fire department. The last fire chief, who is retiring, didn’t work directly with school or community groups very often, and we’d like to fi
nd someone who can provide that personal connection.”

  Matt had suspected as much, and he felt a surge of reassurance that he’d met Rachel when he had. God had a way of sorting out the details, and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks. If they needed someone who could work with school groups, then he’d just have to buff up his skills—pronto.

  “Are you hungry, Mr. Bernard?” he asked suddenly.

  “Well, I—” The older man cleared his throat and smiled. “I could think about lunch.”

  “My treat. There’s a diner down the street and we could continue this over the best burger in Montana. Let’s call it a working lunch.”

  “Sounds good to me.” The older man smiled and patted his belly. “It’s getting to be that time, isn’t it?”

  Matt rose to his feet and came around the desk to meet him. As Matt opened the door, Rachel’s voice filtered from down the hallway as she talked with her son in the reception area.

  “Thank you so much for showing us around, Firefighter Johnson,” she was saying. “It was nice of you to take the time.”

  Matt led his guest down the hall toward the door. Rachel and Chris stood with Firefighter Johnson, saying their goodbyes. As he reached the reception desk, Matt gave Chris a friendly grin.

  “Hi,” Christopher said quietly, and Rachel’s gaze flew back in his direction.

  “Hi, buddy,” Matt said. “Did you like the tour?”

  The boy shrugged.

  “We did,” Rachel answered for him. “Thanks. Come on, Chris. We’d better get going.”

  They all stepped outside together into the warm July sunlight, and Matt glanced in the direction of his crew, who were parking the fire truck in the middle of the sunny drive, ready to go through the daily inspection checklist. Mr. Bernard angled his steps in the direction of the truck, but Matt hung back. Rachel tugged the elastic out of her hair, and her dark waves swung down around her shoulders. The effect was drastic, her dark eyes framed with raven hair, and her pale complexion seeming even milkier with the contrast. She gave Matt a polite nod.

  “Mrs. Carter—”

  “Call me Rachel.”

  “Rachel.” He smiled. “Is there anything you need to help you settle in?”

  “No, no, that’s not why I’m here.” Her smile evaporated. “I’m fine. It’s all under control. We’re just about settled.”

  “Good.” He cleared his throat. “Look, you mentioned helping out a bit around here—”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Considering that you’re a teacher—” he glanced down at Chris “—and a mom, you’re probably my resident expert on kids. I’m not good with school groups, and I’d really like to buff up my skills. Do you think you could help me out?”

  “I’d love to.” A smile broke over her face, and he was momentarily taken aback by the transformation. She was stunning.

  “I’ve got your number.” He patted his front pocket. “Do you mind if I use it?”

  “Not at all.” Her dark eyes sparkled.

  I love that smile. Again, not the most appropriate thought at a time like this, and Mr. Bernard was headed back in their direction.

  “I’ve got to get going,” he said, nodding in Mr. Bernard’s direction. “But I’ll give you a call.”

  “No problem. I’ll see you later.” She raised her dark eyes to meet his, then turned her attention to her son. Matt raised a hand in a wave as Rachel and Christopher walked down the pavement toward a white hatchback sedan that had seen better days. Chris looked back at him once with an unreadable expression and Matt couldn’t help feeling that he’d unwittingly let the boy down. He wasn’t the hero that Chris was looking for.

  He wasn’t the hero anyone else had been looking for, either, and the biggest reminder of that hard fact was Broxton Park Elementary School.

  The school was opening again, teachers were being hired and life was going to continue. He understood that it had to, but something inside him just couldn’t move on with everyone else. That fire had done more than gut a school; it had taken the life of a little girl named Natalie Martin—a little girl he’d done his utmost to rescue. He couldn’t forget that soot-streaked face, so ashen and pale, or the ragged sobs of her parents, who stood on the sidewalk outside the flaming building clinging to each other.

  Haggerston would never forget Natalie, but it would move on. Matt would never forget Natalie, either, but he wouldn’t be able to move on here. There were too many memories around every corner, and he knew the answer—South Maitland.

  Sometimes God provided healing, and this time, Matt was pretty sure God was providing escape. Maybe healing could happen with some distance.

  * * *

  Rachel dropped the rag back into the sudsy bucket and leaned back on her heels. Renting Grandma’s old house from her aunt had seemed like the perfect solution when she moved back to Haggerston, but she hadn’t factored in the sheer amount of elbow grease it would take to clean the place up. Rachel looked into the freshly wiped kitchen cupboard and nodded in satisfaction. The 1950s farmhouse kitchen still sported the same teal paint from its early days when her grandmother had set up her own home as a newly married woman. The whitewashed walls, now less than white, contrasted with the teal cupboards, and a big, old-fashioned sink dominated the counter space. A Formica table of the same faded teal held buckets and cleaning products, but under it all, Rachel recognized that familiar, sunny kitchen.

  “I always did love Grandma’s house,” she said.

  Her aunt Louise, perched on a chair to reach the inside of the upper shelves, emerged from the depths of a cupboard and eyed her over her glasses. Short, graying hair curled around her face, and her cheeks glowed with the combination of heat and exertion.

  “Why didn’t you move back earlier?” Louise pushed her glasses up on her face with one arm, keeping her rubber-gloved hands free. “This house has been empty this whole time, you know.”

  “I know.” Rachel rose to her feet. “But when Ed died, I didn’t want to leave our home. It felt like leaving him behind.”

  If she had to be brutally honest with herself, she was pretty angry with Ed, too, for having left her behind. They were supposed to grow old together. Ed’s dying wasn’t part of the deal.

  Her aunt nodded. “This is good for Christopher, though. He needs family.”

  Rachel glanced upward, toward the boy’s bedroom on the second floor. Overhead, the odd thump echoed down through the ceiling from his unpacking efforts.

  “I hope so,” she said softly.

  “You need family.” Aunt Louise shot her a pointed look.

  Rachel grinned. “I know. And here we are.”

  Louise gave a curt nod and disappeared back into the cupboard once more. Rachel stood motionless, her mind moving over the memories of childhood summers. Hot apple pie, sweet iced tea, old family stories, visits to the graveyard, where she used to read the inscriptions on her great-grandparents’ gravestones, feeling connected to the generations who came before her... Haggerston had been a warm, safe place for Rachel, and she hoped that somehow her own pleasant memories would morph into something more tangible for her son. Was it even possible to channel her happy childhood memories into his boyhood years?

  A knock from the front door echoed through the empty house, and Rachel peeled off her rubber gloves and dropped them onto the side of the bucket, then went to answer the door. She paused at the foot of the stairs, just able to make out her son’s legs as he scampered down the upstairs hallway. She smiled to herself and pulled open the front door.

  Matt Bailey stood on the porch, his navy blue uniform shirt open at the neck and the summer breeze ruffling his sun-bleached hair. He dropped his gaze, then lifted his eyes to meet hers tentatively.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hello.” A thump overhead drew both of their a
ttention, and she chuckled. “Chris is unpacking up there.”

  “Sounds like he’s enjoying himself.” He glanced upward, in the direction of the thumps. “Sorry to just stop in on you like this. I saw your car, so I figured you’d be here.”

  Rachel looked past his broad shoulders to her white hatchback, rusting around the wheel wells and badly in need of a wash. “You found me. I’m just renting right now, but this is actually my grandmother’s old house, so—”

  From the kitchen, Louise called, “I told you a thousand times, Rachel, I’m not accepting a penny from you!”

  Rachel laughed and shook her head. “That’s Aunt Louise. She has ears like a cat. Be warned.”

  Matt’s eyes crinkled in a warm smile. “Sounds like you’re in good hands.” The smile faltered, and he met her gaze frankly. “I wanted to apologize about today.”

  “Oh, it’s no matter.” Rachel batted her hand through the air.

  “No, it is.” He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t expecting to meet Chris today, and I wasn’t at my best. Is he okay?”

  Rachel’s mind went to the silent drive home she and Christopher had shared—a quiet boy fiddling with a paper plane in the back of the car, his usual noisy exuberance dampened. She wasn’t about to make that Matt’s problem, though. “He’ll be all right.”

  “Okay. Good.” Matt cleared his throat, and his gaze softened. “It was nice to meet you. Both of you.”

  Inside the house, the phone rang, and Louise picked it up with a singsong “Hello?” Rachel angled her head toward the door and stepped outside. Matt followed. One side of the porch was overgrown with a lilac bush, the clustered blossoms breathing out fragrance, and the other side basked in the shade of a mature oak tree. She let her gaze wander over the yard, a little overgrown and in need of mowing, and then back to her tall guest. Matt’s uniform shirt was wrinkled up the back, and his chin glistened with stubble in the late-afternoon sunlight.

  “I should apologize, too,” she confessed. “I didn’t mean to come on so strongly back at the firehouse. I get something into my head, and I just go full steam ahead. I guess I’d hoped—” She brushed some errant wisps of hair away from her forehead. “I don’t even know what I hoped. I’m sorry about that.”