Safe in the Fireman's Arms

by Tina Radcliffe

  “Coffee first,” Jake announced as he climbed into the truck and started the engine of the big yellow moving truck.

  “Um, and Jake?”

  He slid sunglasses on his face. “Yes?”

  “Thanks for volunteering to drive through the mountains. I was a little nervous about that part.”

  “Not a problem. I’m a little nervous about driving in the city.”

  “You, nervous?”

  Jake shrugged. “I don’t get out of Paradise much these days.”

  “Do you miss Denver?”

  Maggie’s glance followed his as he stared toward the mountains in the distance and shook his head.

  “I guess not,” she answered for him.

  He faced her and smiled. “You okay with being my copilot?”

  “Anytime,” she said.

  “Good to know,” Jake replied.

  * * *

  Three hours later Jake released his breath when they pulled up to a row of high-rises that obscured the Denver skyline.

  “I forgot how close together things are here in the city,” he said.

  “Nothing like Paradise, is it?”

  “Nope.” He glanced out the window and down at the curb. “Are you sure we won’t get ticketed in this spot?”

  “It’s for loading and unloading. We’re good.”

  They hopped out of the truck and stretched before approaching the building.

  “Really, that wasn’t a bad ride at all,” Maggie commented as they got in the elevator and headed up to her parents’ condo.

  Jake could only grin. “Yeah, only a few surprises.”

  “Surprises? Such as?”

  He grabbed her right hand and held it up. “Orange fingers.”

  “Puffed cheese balls are delicious.”

  “Yeah, with zero nutritional value. It’s fake food.”

  She shrugged and hid her hand behind her back.

  “You’re an agronomist who’s into organics and you eat puffed cheese balls and toaster pastries?”

  “We all have our weaknesses.”

  “Do we?”

  “Yes.”

  The elevator doors opened. Maggie stood stiffly without moving.

  “Aren’t we getting out?” Jake asked.

  She turned to him, her face pale. “I should probably warn you about my parents.”

  “Maggie, honey, I deal with all kinds of Joe Public on a daily basis. I get along with everyone. No worries.”

  “Are you kidding? I wasn’t worried about you. It’s them.”

  He frowned. “What about them?”

  “They’re very, um...structured.”

  “I’m structured.”

  “Maybe that’s not the word I’m looking for.” She bit her lip.

  Jake took her arm and gently tugged her out of the elevator. “Let’s go. A couple more hours and we’ll be back in Paradise. Besides, I’m actually looking forward to meeting your parents.”

  She muttered something unintelligible under her breath as they walked down a neatly carpeted hallway to unit twenty-seven and rang the bell.

  No sounds emanated from the other side.

  Maggie rang the bell to her parents’ condo again and turned to Jake with a weak smile. “They aren’t home.”

  He leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Did they know you were coming?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “Sort of odd, isn’t it?” he commented.

  Maggie shook her head. “Not really. This is their passive-aggressive way of showing disapproval.”

  “What do you want to do?” he asked.

  She dipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a key.

  “Well, then let’s go in and take care of things.”

  The door to the condo swung open and Jake followed Maggie inside. The Joneses’ home was immaculate, though every surface seemed to be covered with either books or travel artifacts. He’d guess from the artwork, sculptures and various knickknacks that they had indeed traveled the globe.

  “Wow,” he murmured.

  “Yes. Even when I was little, it was like living in a museum.”

  “Which explains your penchant for minimalism.”

  “This way,” Maggie said with a nod. Her voice was hushed, as though she was in a library.

  He followed her down a hallway to the last door. She stopped and he nearly ran into her as they stood at the threshold of a bedroom.

  Inside the room drop cloths and paint cans covered one corner. Stacks of boxes occupied the middle of the room, along with an oak rocking chair, a small rolltop desk and an oak bureau. The desk and bureau had been wrapped in packing plastic. Even the twin bed had been broken down and neatly covered with plastic.

  “They boxed it all up for you?”

  “Yes. That’s my folks. Ever efficient.” She sagged and slipped down to the polished oak rocking chair that was next to the boxes and lovingly stroked the engraved arms. “This chair was my grandmother’s. My mother has the mate to it and she cherishes it as much as I do this one.”

  “Maggie. You okay?”

  Her face crumpled. “Oh, Jake. They packed me up like one of their projects and put me away.”

  “Naw,” he tried to reassure her. “It looks like they were getting ready to paint.”

  “Jake, you don’t know my parents. Do you have any idea why I spent summers in Paradise?”

  “So you could experience the great outdoors?”

  “No, so they could travel the world without being encumbered by a child. I was an accident, you know. They really didn’t want me.”

  “Maggie, that’s not true.”

  She shook her head firmly. “It’s very true. That’s why all my life I’ve lived their life. Hoping they’d let me in the inner circle of their family. I’ve never said it aloud before, because I was afraid what I thought might be true. And it is.”

  Jake kneeled down next to her and took her hand. He stroked the soft skin, then his gaze moved to her face. Maggie averted her gaze, instead staring at her hand in his.

  “Maggie, you have lots of family, and friends, people who care about you in Paradise.”

  “I know. I know,” she murmured. “The Lord has a plan for me. I keep repeating that verse. ‘Cast all your cares upon the Lord, for He cares for you.’ I keep reminding myself that He cares for me. That’s what matters.”

  “He does. And so do I Maggie.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “Come on. Let’s get this stuff out of here and go home.”

  When Maggie lifted her chin, and he looked directly into her moist pain-filled brown eyes, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and make it all right.

  But she beat him to it. Maggie reached forward and slipped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Surprised, he held very still, and inhaled the intoxicating mixture of the vanilla and cheese balls that was Maggie. For a moment he allowed himself the luxury of enjoying her head on his shoulder.

  When she finally eased away from him their gazes connected. This time Jake leaned toward her ever so slowly, until his lips touched hers.

  She didn’t pull away and once again he was lost in the sweetness of Maggie.

  Minutes later Jake rested his forehead against hers.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “For understanding.”

  “Anytime, Maggie. Anytime.”

  Reluctantly he stood, creating a distance between them. He looked around. “Come on. Let’s get this stuff out of here and go home to Paradise.”

  “I’m ready.” She glanced at the furniture. “This is actually all I own that’s really mine. My maternal grandmother left me those pieces.”

  “That dresser and desk look like antiques.”

  “They are. She owned an antiques store.”

  “No kidding. Were you close?”

  “I only saw her a few times in my life.”

  “We probably should have brought Beck. That bureau and desk look heavy.”

  “We have two d
ollies.”

  “We do.” He picked up a box and so did Maggie. “You are aware that Beck is crushing on you, right?”

  “No, he isn’t,” she said as she followed him to the elevator. “I don’t understand why this keeps coming up. First Bitsy and now you. Beck and I are friends.”

  “Maggie, it scares me to think Bitsy and I agree on something, but I’m telling you. Guys know this stuff. Beck is seriously crushing on you.”

  “I haven’t done anything. Or encouraged him.”

  “You can’t help that you’re a beautiful woman.”

  Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply. “Stop or this box might slip out of my arms and land on your foot.”

  He stood next to her in the elevator unable to hide a grin. His Maggie was back, with fire in her eyes.

  “Because I said you were beautiful?” he asked.

  “I’m the same person. Just Maggie.”

  “Just Maggie has to adjust her thinking. The beauty on your inside is now evident on the outside.”

  She blinked, opened her mouth and then closed it.

  Jake continued to smile. Maggie Jones was speechless.

  * * *

  “I’ve got to stop by my house to feed Chuck before we head over to your place,” Jake said.

  She gave a small nod, though her eyes remained closed and her head rested against the seat. Maggie was emotionally drained. He couldn’t blame her. It was probably a good thing her parents weren’t home. He’d have easily given them a rundown on what a wonderful daughter they had, along with several pieces of his mind.

  “You awake?” he asked.

  “Yes. What time is it anyhow?”

  “Four o’clock.”

  “You made good time,” she commented.

  “Once we hit the Eisenhower Tunnel it was an easy ride.”

  A slight smile curved her lips.

  “I’m glad you drove in Denver,” he admitted. “I’d forgotten how crazy the on-ramps and off-ramps were. Why do they call that one stretch of highway the mousetrap?” Jake asked as he pulled the moving truck up to his house.

  “Because you feel like a completely helpless mouse in a maze.”

  Jake put the parking brake on.

  Her eyes slowly opened.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “We ran out of cheese balls two hours ago. I’m starving.”

  “We could have stopped,” Jake pointed out.

  “I wanted to get home.” Maggie opened the truck door and jumped down. Arms on her hips, she rotated her neck and then stretched her back. “Which house is yours?”

  He laughed.

  Only one home stood on the acre of land, bordered by a green lawn and gravel drive, with a detached garage on one side and a small forest on the other three sides. The two-story log-cabin home looked toward the mountains.

  Tall windows graced the front. A wraparound porch with roughly hewn wood rails surrounded the house.

  “This looks like a hunting cabin on steroids.”

  “My escape from the world.”

  She followed him into the house, where Chuck enthusiastically greeted them before he shot outside.

  “Impressive,” Maggie said. “And all leather furniture. This is a total man cave.”

  “Is it?” Jake looked around the rustic home, assessing it from her eyes.

  A stone fireplace, with a chimney that stretched to the ceiling, was the focal point of the room. In front of the hearth on the hardwood floor was a large Southwestern-print rug. Copper ceiling fans, suspended from the wooden beams, whirred gently.

  “Okay,” he admitted, “maybe it could use some womanly touches. But I absolutely do not allow froufrou.”

  Maggie laughed. “Froufrou?”

  “You know. Doilies. Couches with big peonies. Tiny rugs that serve no purpose. Oh, and lavender potpourri.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s definitely froufrou. You need a sign on your door. No soliciting or froufrou.”

  “Want something to drink, smart aleck?” he asked.

  “No, thanks, but I’m right behind you. I have to see the kitchen.”

  From the doorway, Maggie gaped at the room. “I guess you do cook,” she finally said.

  “Try not to let the stove and refrigerator intimidate you. I had to replace them anyhow, so I went top-of-the-line.” He pulled a bag of dog food from a cupboard and filled a stainless steel dog dish.

  “You and Susan should chat. You obviously watch the same shows on the Food Network.” Maggie ran a hand over the granite countertop.

  “I did everything in here myself.”

  “Good therapy, I imagine.”

  He gave a short nod.

  Oh, yeah. Intuitive woman. She was closer to the truth than she could have realized. Ten years and a lot of praying and thinking. Therapy of sorts, for sure.

  “Why do you bother with a landline?” she asked.

  “Cell phones can be unreliable in the mountains. I have to be reachable by dispatch 24/7. I’ve also got a CB radio in my bedroom as a backup.”

  “Makes sense.” She nodded. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “Ask away.”

  “If your dad is retired, why does he spend so much time in the hardware store?”

  Jake laughed. “That’s not a personal question. Mack only thinks he’s retired. The reality is that he’s at the store every single day. Sometimes only for a few hours. He loves the place too much to ever really leave it behind.” Jake shrugged. “He doesn’t pull a paycheck so I’m not going to point it out to him.”

  She nodded and then paused, frowning. “Do you hear that?” Maggie asked.

  Jake tensed. “Fire horns.” He slapped his back pocket. “My phone. I left my phone in the moving truck.” He raced outside and Maggie followed.

  “Are you on call?” she asked.

  “No, but I like to keep an eye on what’s going on.”

  He grabbed the phone from the moving truck and read the text.

  “Everything okay?”

  “This time it isn’t your fault,” he muttered.

  “What’s going on, Jake?”

  He exhaled before facing her. “Neighbor called in a fire at your place.”

  “What? That’s Susan’s house. That’s my new home.” She released a slow breath. “I don’t understand.”

  “A metal can is sitting in the middle of your driveway, on fire.”

  “My driveway? That’s crazy.” She groaned. “So much for flying under the radar.”

  “We’ll go check it out,” Jake said as he texted a message to Duffy.

  “Thank you,” Maggie breathed.

  “Chuck.” Jake whistled and the dog appeared. “Mind if Chuck joins us?”

  “No. That’s fine.”

  Jake pulled open his door and Chuck jumped in. “Backseat, boy. Seat belt,” he said as he started the engine.

  “Did Duffy answer you?” she asked.

  “Hang on. Update coming.” He glanced down at the phone. “It’s already been extinguished. I’d better call him and get the details.”

  Jake jumped from the truck and walked far enough away that Maggie couldn’t overhear.

  “Duff, what’s going on?’

  “I’d say it was a prank, Chief. Minimal accelerant and what looks like a fancy remote incendiary device used to ignite. A pretty smart prankster. We have so many new faces in Paradise this time of year, it’ll be hard to pin it down to anyone.”

  “Not too many pranksters in town who could pull that off.”

  “You have someone in mind?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maggie isn’t home, you know,” Duffy said.

  “She’s with me.”

  Duffy hooted. “Why am I not surprised? I heard you were leading the pack for Maggie’s attentions.”

  “Cut it out. We’re moving her stuff from Denver.”

  “Does she know about the fire?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “So what are you
going to tell her?”

  “As little as possible.”

  “Maggie won’t stand for that.”

  “Yeah, I know. But the last thing I need is Maggie trying to figure out who did this on her own. So let’s downplay the whole thing. Call it a prank and work with the sheriff to figure it out.” He paused. “Oh, and let’s do our best to keep Bitsy Harmony out of the loop on this one.”

  * * *

  Jake checked the caller ID and grabbed the landline on his desk.

  “Commissioner. How can I help you?”

  “MacLaughlin, I’ve got some disturbing paperwork in my hands.”

  “Oh?”

  “You’ve filed three reports on a Margaret Jones, of Denver, current address Paradise, with fire incidents. All within the last month. The most recent report just Saturday. Do we have an arsonist on our hands?”

  Jake’s heart pounded at the words. He jumped up from his desk and began to pace with the cordless phone to his ear. “Sir. I know Maggie personally. She is not an arsonist. That was simply bad luck and poor timing. The truck fire wasn’t even her fault, and I was with her when the last incident occurred.”

  “Okay. Okay. I hear you and I trust your judgment, MacLaughlin. But it’s imperative that you contain this situation, immediately. I’ve got constituents to think about and I don’t have the luxury of running unopposed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We want to be sure there aren’t any skeletons in anyone’s closet. If the media in Denver get a hold of this on a slow news day, it’ll be a three-ring circus.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said as he eased into his chair again.

  “So keep a close eye on this woman. A very close eye. And have Sam Lawson run her name for priors and outstanding warrants. Let’s stay on top of things as a precaution.”

  Jake grimaced. “I can do that, sir”

  “I’m counting on you, MacLaughlin.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  Jake leaned back in his chair as he set the phone down. His stomach knotted thinking about the commissioner’s request.

  There was no way Maggie had outstanding priors or warrants. Okay, he’d admit she could be a little forgetful. He only hoped she didn’t have too many parking tickets.

  Jake ran a hand over his face. If Maggie ever got wind of this she’d be humiliated and completely over-the-top furious. He wouldn’t blame her, either.

  A knock on the door interrupted him. “Jacob, you busy?”