Everything She Needed (Cedar Valley Novel Book 2)

by Christina Butrum

  Grabbing hold of his hand, she pulled him toward the couch. Tapping her foot along the base of the couch, she told him to have a seat. With a questioning look, he did as she asked. She climbed behind him, straddling his back as she sat down on the couch. Gently, she pushed him forward, moving her hands along the smooth oversized, over-tensed muscles of his back.

  He tilted his neck against the pull of his muscle. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

  Laughing, she pressed her thumbs into the depth of his shoulder and circled against the knots. “I can think of a few things I couldn’t do.”

  “Oh, yeah, what’s that?” he asked, grunting against the tightness of his muscle.

  “Well, first of all, I couldn’t do what you do,” she said, knowing that for a fact. She had seen the kind of things firemen do, and regardless of how great the job, she would never in a million years be able to pull that job off. “Second, I couldn’t have faced all you have dealt with and come out stronger for it. I would have long since collapsed and given up.”

  It was a touchy subject, she knew that, but she felt that he needed to hear how much she looked up to him. How much everyone around here looked up to him. He had gone through so much, had been blindsided, and yet, here he was, stronger and still a man of faith.

  The shrug of his shoulders pulled against her thumbs. “I’m no superhero. I don’t have capabilities that other men don’t,” he said, so matter-of-fact, with a tone she had never heard before. “I just do what I hope any man would do or any brother of mine in the department would do. Given any situation, you have to do what’s right. You can’t give up. Not when there are others who depend on you to keep going.”

  She knew he was no longer talking about Tyler, but now of the community. He had given this community so much, and likewise for them. There were so many supporters of the department, and even more support for him and Tyler.

  He relaxed against her legs, she continued circling her thumbs into the tense muscles, and changed the subject. “I took the job at the Granny Mae’s.”

  “I’m sorry, I know you’ve wanted to tell me about that for a while now,” he said, turning toward her, resting his bent knee against the front of the couch. “You’ll be baking, right?”

  “That’s what Granny Mae hired me to do,” she said, smiling down at him. “Thanks to Rosie, who mentioned how great a baker I am.”

  She hadn’t thought of herself as an expert at baking. There were plenty of others around here that Granny could choose to fill in the baker’s position, not that she would argue with her decision—it had gotten her out of sitting in a classroom all day.

  “Rosie knows good baking, with no exception to yours.”

  “Aww, now you’re just being too sweet,” she said, nudging him in the arm. “Turn around and let me finish the massage I started.”

  “That’s not the only thing you started,” he said, giving her a sly wink with a finger pointed downward. Laughing, he did as she said, while she sat with a bemused look on her face as she wondered when he had become such a horn dog. When she remained quiet, he glanced back at her and smiled. “You know what they say about massages, right?”

  Slapping his arm, she said, “I know what they say about dirty old men.”

  “Hey now, I may be dirty, but I’m not old,” he said, more of a growl than of words.

  “Yet.”

  Spinning around, he now faced her on his knees and tackled her against the cushion. She was pinned and unable to fight back or squirm her way out from under him. He trailed his lips down the side of her neck as she squirmed and arched her back beneath him. “I’ll show you old man.” His breath warm against her neck, his words mumbled as his lips pressed on.

  She may have been too tired not that long ago, but right now, with her body pressed against his and nowhere to go, she was more awake than ever.

  * * *

  If there was one thing she was good at, it was baking cookies. She wouldn’t ever have imagined baking for a living, but she wasn’t complaining. Granny Mae’s was the perfect place. They were in the middle of town, next to the old post office, and sat adjacent to the small Ma and Pa thrift store.

  Flipping the mixer on, Rachel heard the bell above the door ring and Granny Mae holler for her to come out front. She had to meet someone. Wiping her hands off with her apron, Rachel pushed through the swinging dividers and walked over to the spot Granny Mae was standing, talking to a strawberry blonde who looked familiar.

  “Rach, have you met Megan?”

  Of course, that’s why she looked familiar. She was Rosie’s granddaughter—the bad-ass paramedic all the guys talked about.

  “Not officially, but I’ve heard about her,” Rachel said, smiling as she extended a hand over the counter to shake Megan’s hand. She was gorgeous. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “Hey, Meg,” Rosie called out from the other end of the counter. “You’re not serious about joining the fire department, are you?”

  Rachel glanced at Megan and Rosie, debating whether or not to go back to baking. Her dough was well mixed by now, if not all over the floor and walls.

  “Well, I mentioned to Adam the other night that I would love to join,” Megan said, taking a seat closer to her grandmother. Rachel could see the distaste of the thought on Rosie’s face. “I told Adam that I’d be in on Monday to see what I can do.”

  A strawberry blonde curl fell loose from the holder and lay against her tan skin. Megan was everything the guys talked about. Rachel hadn’t known her before now. She didn’t technically know her now, but having her sit in front of her, Rachel could understand why the guys talked.

  “I don’t think you should,” Rosie pleaded, her voice full of concern. “I just don’t think it’s safe.”

  “Grandma,” Megan said, reaching for Rosie’s hand. “The department needs me.”

  She wasn’t lying. Rachel had seen the stress piled on Adam for the last couple of weeks, and she had a feeling he would end up going down if something didn’t change soon.

  As if Megan needed Rachel’s input, she turned her attention in her direction and said, “Rachel, tell her how badly they need help.”

  “I know they need help,” Rosie said, her voice stern. “I just don’t think...”

  “She’ll be in good hands,” Rachel said, whether or not it was her place to say anything in regards to Rosie’s wishes. Making sure she didn’t seem disrespectful, she said, “Adam would make sure of her safety. All of their safety.”

  Megan’s blue eyes lit up, brightened by the dark outline of flawlessly drawn on makeup. She mouthed Thank you and Rachel smiled.

  “I’d better get back there,” she said, pointing toward the backroom where the sound of an overworked mixer whirred in the distance. “I’m sure my dough is plenty mixed by now.”

  It had been left for a few minutes unsupervised, but it was fine. The chocolate chips were seamlessly mixed within the dough, without a single mess anywhere.

  The wooden swinging door opened and Rosie walked into the back room. Her eyebrows were drawn together and she had a tight-lipped expression as she leaned against the counter next to Rachel’s baking space. Crossing her arms in front of her, she said, “She’s my only grandchild and I don’t want anything to happen to her.” Before Rachel could say a word, she said, “I know the department needs help. Wes and Edward talk about it every day. I just don’t want her to get hurt or overdo it. She’s such a go getter and I don’t want her to take on too much.”

  Rachel wasn’t quite sure what to say. The department did need volunteers, a lot of them. Adam was struggling to keep shifts full and crews ready for the tones to drop. But she also knew what it was like to worry about something happening to the one you love. She felt that unease daily when Adam left for work.

  “I know that Adam needs volunteers,” Rosie said, glancing at Rachel before saying, “but I’m not okay with her joining.”

  Rachel wasn’t sure what to say. There wasn’t really anyth
ing she could say right now to change Rosie’s mind. As though Rosie knew this, she turned to Rachel, grabbed her hand and said, “I need you to talk to Adam. Tell him not to hire Megan. Do whatever it takes to keep Megan out of those fires. Please?”

  For the first time in a long time, Rachel was at a loss for words. A true conflict between what was needed and what was wanted. Megan had no doubts that she’d be hired on, and Adam, even though he hadn’t said anything to her about Megan wanting to join, would hire her in a heartbeat. He respected the O’Brien family and ran with Megan on medical calls. It would take a lot more than Rachel’s words to persuade him to change his mind.

  Rosie turned, and no sooner than she entered the room, she was gone. Leaving Rachel with conflicted thoughts on whether or not Megan should join the department.

  17

  Sundays brought on family dinners at his parents’ house. This wasn’t Rachel’s first Sunday dinner, but it would be her first where there was tension among the table.

  Adam had called his father and apologized relentlessly for arguing over something silly. It made no difference why his father hadn’t hired Conner. That was between the two of them. It had nothing to do with him, or the service.

  His father had grunted an acceptance of the apology, but he knew his father would still be worked up about it. It would make for an interesting night.

  Loading Ava into her car seat, he clicked her buckle and handed her favorite stuffed animal to her. The trip would be short, but since she hadn’t had a nap, he estimated it’d take her less than a minute on the road before her eyes closed and she was sound asleep.

  No sooner than they pulled out of the driveway and headed in the direction of his parents, he saw her reflection in the rearview, peacefully sleeping with her stuffed puppy tucked tightly against the side of her face.

  “Did you know that Rosie doesn’t want Megan to join the department?” Rachel asked, after a silent couple of minutes of fumbling with the zipper flap on her purse. She hadn’t been her normal talkative self since her last shift at Granny Mae’s, and he couldn’t figure out why. But now, this question might explain it.

  “No, I hadn’t heard that.” He hadn’t had time to stop into the cafe, let alone talk much with anyone, including Rosie. The thought of talking to her before Monday hadn’t crossed his mind. Until now.

  “She doesn’t want Megan joining, because she’s afraid of something happening to her,” Rachel explained the conversation she’d had with Rosie at the cafe, which all made sense. Megan was her only grandchild and like a daughter to Rosie. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to her, but neither would he. “I can understand what she means.”

  The words were like a punch in the gut. He knew that his job wasn’t a walk in the park. There were times when things got ugly, but hearing Rachel’s words confirmed what he had long since shoved aside. Rachel had expressed her concern when they first began dating, but like everything else, he had promised to be careful as he told her how long he had been in the service and how well he did his job. He had known at that time it wasn’t enough to settle her worries, and hearing them now, when they spoke of Rosie’s, hit him hard.

  “I know,” he said, reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. He wasn’t good at calming these sorts of worries. He could only promise to do his job the best he could, making sure that everyone, including himself, came home every night after their shift ended. “I’ll have a talk with Rosie.”

  Knowing this wouldn’t solve the worry, he changed the subject. “Ty, you’ll need to tell Gramps about your touchdown. He and Wes couldn’t make it to the game because they were on their fishing adventure.”

  Tyler’s games had become a favorite past-time of the old men—his grandfather and Wes. Talk among the guys had become less about sports on television and more about the local school kids’ home games.

  Tyler had scored a touchdown when his team had least expected it. He had zigged when defense zagged and slid around outstretched arms, outrunning the majority of the opposing team. The touchdown had been the win they were looking forward to.

  “Do you think Gramps will want to play catch?”

  With a gentle shrug and a grin, Adam said, “You’ll have to ask him.”

  The old man was more fit than some men half his age. The fact that a seventy year old could still throw pigskin without throwing out his shoulder or pulling a muscle said something. Hell, the old man tried to talk his father into letting him in the service a couple of years back. His father had gotten a chuckle out of the conversation, but Adam knew it wasn’t a joke. His grandfather had been serious as a heart attack.

  Rachel’s facial expression told him that she’d believe it when she saw it. Adam shrugged and said, “Wait and see.”

  Pulling into the drive, Adam’s truck crawled to stop behind his grandfather’s 50’s Buick. That thing was still sharp looking, with not a single scratch or dent in it. His grandfather had kept it in pristine condition and swore the engine still purred like a cat. Adam had no doubts about that.

  Piling out of the truck, Tyler grabbed his football and headed for the house, leaving Rachel and Adam fending for themselves as they grabbed Ava and the side dishes they’d promised to bring.

  “You didn’t hit my Beaut, did ya?” his grandfather called out from the front of the truck, a smile cracked his wrinkled face.

  “Hey there, Gramps,” Adam said, bringing one arm around the man’s shoulders while holding on tight to Ava. “You know I wouldn’t.”

  “She still turns over on the first try,” Edward said, motioning his hand as though he were turning the key in the ignition. “Purrs just like a...”

  “Cat?”

  Leading the family into the house, Edward patted Adam’s shoulder, “Atta boy.”

  It hadn’t taken long for Ava to catch the attention as they made their way inside through the back door. Gramps still had Adam’s attention, talking about motors and how old he had been the first time he had seen a Buick like the one parked in the drive.

  There wasn’t a single thing that changed from this conversation and the last his grandfather had with him. Talking about cars was his grandfather’s specialty. The man had been the town mechanic for the majority of his life, long before he was Tyler’s age. Gramps’ talks were always something to look forward to.

  Ava squirmed in his arms before he agreed to set her down, allowing her to run off after Tucker, the family dog who was well into his late years of life. The dog was still laid back and friendly, and loved the children’s attention.

  “Hon,” Rachel said, patting his arm before saying, “I’m going to help your mother with dinner.”

  He nodded and smiled as he watched her hips sway on her way to the kitchen. “You’ve got quite the woman there,” his grandfather said, nudging him with a playful elbow.

  “Yeah, she’s great,” Adam said, still watching her as she set the table in the dining room. He was a lucky man to have such an incredible woman like Rachel in his and Tyler’s life. His thoughts were continuously spinning like broken records, circling around Rachel and Ava. But if anything was definite, it was how thankful he was they had come together and for Rachel’s lack of hesitation when he had offered her a place to call home. He needed her more than he’d ever needed anyone.

  “Hey,” his father walked into the back room where Adam and his grandfather were still standing, chatting about the latest happenings in town. An old shack outside of town had caught fire the other day, and it had taken quite the fight to put it out. His gramps had thought they should have let it burn to the ground. “It wasn’t doing much good for anything anyway,” his grandfather said, continuing on with their conversation as though Adam’s father hadn’t said a thing.

  Adam tried to break free of the conversation in order to talk to his father, but just when his grandfather stopped talking, the back door was flung open and his younger brother plowed inside with bags in each hand.

  “Hope I’m not too late,�
� he said, shrugging out of his jacket before carrying the bags into the other room. “The damned truck stalled on the highway. Right outside of town.”

  “Language,” their mother called out from an unknown location in the kitchen—a wall separated her and her sons.

  “Why didn’t you call one of us? We would’ve gone out and gotten ya,” Gramps said, following Conner into the living room.

  They all followed him through the house like he was the main attraction. Someone they hadn’t seen in a while, almost as though a stranger had decided today was a good day to have supper with the family.

  Adam leaned against the old oak doorframe of the living room, watching Conner unload his duffle bags, pulling out a change of clothes and whatever else he had stuffed in them. Covered in mud and greas e, Conner held up a hand offering a high five as he walked past. Adam gave a half-assed attempt, turned and watched as Ava cried out for “Unle Onner,” unable or just plain refusing to pronounce her c’s as she held outstretched arms above her head and chased him around the living room. Without a care of the dirt and grease smudged across his face, she hugged him close, smearing his face against hers.

  If there was anything that proved Ava was made for the country life, this was it. The girl didn’t make a fuss about dirt. Hell, the kid loved to get dirty. That girl would play outside all day, every day, if she could.

  Conner turned to Adam, smiling with the acceptance of love from Ava. “This girl’s a keeper.”

  “Have you seen her mom?” Gramps said, nudging his darned elbow into Adam once again, the chuckle contagious throughout the room. “Wowza.”

  His grandfather had a good point. Ava had picked up quite a few characteristics from Rachel. Her blue eyes, blonde hair, and that silly smile of hers. Definitely something he looked forward to seeing every night after a long day of work.

  “I heard that,” Adam’s grandmother called out, walking out behind Rachel with a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes. She set it on the pot holder on the table next to the gravy, before shaking a finger at Gramps from across the room. “You’ll think wowza when you’re sleeping alone tonight.”