“Happy to,” he answered, sorting through envelopes.
The landline rang, interrupting her interrogation. Bitsy reached for the phone at the same time he did.
“My phone,” he said as he held the receiver to his ear. “Hello? Hey, Mrs. Jones. A party? Friday? I can’t promise. Maybe.”
A self-satisfied smile lit up Bitsy’s face. She knew who was calling and she’d played him. Set him up, so he’d answer the phone. Yes. He’d been had.
“How’s Maggie?” He listened as Betty Jones gave him an update. “Tell her I asked about her, will you?”
Bitsy Harmony was doing her best to remind him of Maggie.
He didn’t need anyone to remind him of Maggie. Since the fire, not an hour passed that a hundred images didn’t flash through his mind.
Maggie with those glasses and ponytail and those burned eggs. Maggie throwing mud at him. A glowing Maggie in that incredible dress at the Founder’s Day supper.
Maggie and the puffed cheese balls.
Then his thoughts flashed to last Saturday night in the hospital.
Maggie’s dark head against white hospital sheets.
He hated hospitals. He last saw his mother in a hospital. This was different, he reminded himself, punching the pillow under his head. It wasn’t an ending.
He had sat in the chair, holding Maggie’s hand, watching her sleep for hours, until he knew he had to leave. If she woke up she would clearly see his heart, and he hadn’t been prepared to admit anything that night. Jake had steeled his heart ten years ago. He never set out to fall in love again. One slip of a woman comes to town and he’d gone and broken all his rules.
What was he going to do?
How did Maggie feel? That was the real question. She had wanted him to pretend to care. To keep the suitors away. Still, he thought he’d seen something else in her eyes at the hospital.
One way or another he realized it was time to go all in and take a risk. He could only pray that Maggie wouldn’t shut him down.
* * *
The week dragged. Though Maggie did little more than sleep and rest at first, her aunt and uncle insisted upon checking in on her several times a day. With each passing day the aches and pains were easing a bit. Her ribs were less sore and she’d gotten used to functioning around the assorted bandages.
By the end of the week Maggie started spending a few hours a day on her laptop reviewing the class lessons for the fall.
Her checkup had been this morning and the doctor had released her as mending with no complications.
It was Friday and she’d finally convinced her aunt that after today, they—meaning all the ladies from the auxiliary—could let her fly solo. She’d firmly assured everyone that she would be able to handle things on her own.
Right now, she longed for solitude. All the company of the past week had been a shock. Showering and dressing early each a.m. and holding court, just in case someone stopped by, was a novelty she didn’t want to grow accustomed to.
Neighbors mowed her lawn for her and pulled her weeds. They had even watered her flowers.
Yet each day passed without a word from Jake.
Maggie toyed with the idea of going to see him. But she didn’t have a car and wasn’t sure she was ready to ride her bike yet.
Bitsy dropped by nearly every day. A strange alliance had formed between Bitsy and her aunt. At least that’s how Jake would have seen the situation. Knowing Jake, he would have been suspicious.
Maggie found it rather touching. The former baking adversaries spent an awful lot of time in Maggie’s kitchen talking and laughing and making pies. The little party they had teased about last Sunday seemed to be a go. Tonight. Maggie noted this from her eavesdropping, a habit she’d cultivated out of self-preservation.
A few people over couldn’t hurt. They’d done so much for her that she couldn’t deny them a little fun. Then things would die down and her life would get back to normal. She was all for that, and anything that would empty her kitchen of all the food.
Maggie had also found herself getting crankier as the week had worn on. She’d jump when a cell phone rang, be it hers or Bitsy’s or her aunt’s. Though she heard phones ringing often it was never Jake.
Why didn’t he call?
Each day she’d analyzed the words on the note that’d come with the daisies until she was frustrated and irritable. She couldn’t concentrate. Her mind kept slipping back to Paradise’s fire chief. His gentle touches in the hospital, his tender kiss.
She was more than aware she’d fallen in love with him and how pathetic that was, as well. After all, how silly was it to be in love with the man that everyone else in town was head over heels for?
Of course she was fooling herself, thinking he could possibly return her feelings. He still had a long way to go before he was ready for a relationship.
Musing, her glance fell to the cheerful vase of daisies that she’d moved to her office.
I remind him of daisies?
Was that a good thing?
Love, Jake.
Hmm, love you like a sister? Love you as a good friend. Oh, then there was the time-honored, love you in the Lord.
She stared blankly at the laptop. Looking out the window she saw the garden and reminisced back to the day they had the mud fight. A smile came to her lips. Again she tried to shake off frustration.
Wandering to the kitchen she found Aunt Betty and Bitsy, with their heads together.
Maggie cleared her throat.
“Maggie dear, we were just talking about you,” Aunt Betty said, elbowing Bitsy.
What a surprise. Maggie lifted her brows in mock astonishment.
“It’s nearly dinnertime. Why don’t you change into that nice outfit that Susan brought by?” her aunt said.
“I could do that, if you tell me how many people you invited for tonight.”
“We only invited people you know. Or who know you,” Aunt Betty added.
“Tell me this—do we have enough food to feed them?” Maggie asked.
Aunt Betty looked at Bitsy. Their eyes rounded with concern.
“Certainly,” Aunt Betty said. “Right, Bitsy?”
“I don’t know,” Bitsy countered, pulling a pad of paper out of her pocket.
“I told you I should have made more cookies,” Aunt Betty told her.
“Well, who’s stopping you? Go ahead. I think I’m going to make one more pie.”
“I was only kidding,” Maggie said.
They didn’t hear the doorbell as they rushed around the kitchen.
Maggie got up and slowly walked down the hall to the door. Beck Hollander stood behind the screen, his gaze firmly fixed on his sneakers as usual.
“Beck,” Maggie said. “Come on in.”
“No. I, ah... Maggie, I came to apologize.”
He pushed his glasses up his nose and met her gaze head on. “I did it.”
“Did what, Beck?” She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
“When I heard about the fire and all you did, I realized what a jerk I am.”
Maggie opened the screen and stepped outside.
Beck looked from her bruised face to her gauze-wrapped arm. “Are you going to be okay?”
She nodded. “The Lord was watching over me for sure.”
“I guess so,” he mumbled.
The silence between them was punctuated by a thunder clap. Beck glanced at the sky and exhaled deeply.
“You get me, Maggie. I think I got jealous of our friendship when you started hanging out with the chief.”
“Beck, there are a lot of folks in Paradise who get you. People like you just the way you are. I’m not the only one. Above all, the Lord loves you. He created you to be unique.”
“Yeah?” He studied her as if searching for the truth.
“You don’t have to do things like that fire trick to make anyone stand up and see you. And by the way that was a really dangerous thing to do.”
“I’m sorry. It was du
mb. Really dumb.”
She put a hand on his arm. “You know what? It’s time for you to recognize how special you are. You have to love yourself unconditionally and demand that of others.”
“I’ll try.” He swallowed, looked at her and then glanced away. “Can you, uh, forgive me?”
“Of course I can. We’re friends. Friends care unconditionally. We all make mistakes.”
“Does that mean I don’t have to go door-to-door with those fire magnets anymore?”
Maggie burst out laughing. “Is that what Jake has you doing?”
He offered a glum nod. “Ms. Harmony gave me a list of stuff to help the auxiliary, too. I’ll be working on her list for weeks. Maybe months.”
“Paradise accepts you unconditionally, Beck, but the whole sowing and reaping thing isn’t going away.”
“Bummer.”
“Yeah. Though you know, I bet Julia would love to help you.”
“You think?”
“Yes. I do.” She smiled. “Now come on in and let’s have some of Bitsy’s pie and you can explain that device you used to me. That was really brilliant.”
Beck grinned, his face lighting up. “My ninth-grade science-fair project.”
Maggie shook her head as she opened the screen door.
Chapter Fifteen
The phone rang as Jake headed out to the store to pick up supplies for the kitten he’d rescued early this morning
A trip to the vet had given the cat, a female, the all-clear. No microchips indicating she belonged to someone else.
“It’s probably for you,” he told the peach-colored fur ball as he picked up the phone. The kitten shot him a bored expression from her seat on the sofa.
“Jake? Can you take a call for the fire marshal?”
Bitsy.
“A call? It’s Friday after hours and I’m not on duty this weekend. Duffy is.” He paused, suspicion rising in the back of his mind. “What kind of call?”
“I know that Duffy is on duty,” Bitsy stated. “But I figured you would want to handle this one yourself.”
“What are you talking about?” As he spoke, the kitten began to chase Chuck’s tail. Chuck tolerated it for a few minutes and then ran out of the room. Jake turned around, trying to distract the little feline who now dangled from the phone cord like a furry aerialist.
“I just had a tip.”
“Can you hang on a second?” The phone clattered to the ground as Jake jumped to move a glass of water out of the cat’s path of destruction. It had nearly tipped over on one of Mack’s books.
“What kind of tip?” He asked as he picked the receiver back up.
“Anonymous.”
Anonymous tip, huh? Paradise was fifteen miles of jurisdiction with approximately seventeen hundred citizens, give or take, in the winter and a transient summer population of another five hundred. Somehow it still managed to be a community more tightly knit than your grandmother’s shawl. Nothing much in Paradise could be done anonymously.
He’d be willing to bet a month of chocolate-chip cookies, even cinnamon raisin oatmeal, which citizen was behind this so-called anonymous tip.
“There’s something going on down on Mulberry Lane.”
“Mulberry Lane?”
“Yes.”
“Where Maggie lives?” His voice rose an octave.
He tried to listen to Bitsy’s response as he dove for a coffee mug before the cat pounced.
“Will you cut that out?”
“Jake MacLaughlin, do not take that tone with me,” Bitsy snapped back.
“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the cat.”
“You don’t have a cat.”
“You’re right,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s Maggie’s cat.”
“Maggie’s? Maggie doesn’t have a cat, either.”
“She does now.” Jake cleared his throat. “Could you please update me on the situation on Mulberry Lane?”
“I didn’t say there was a situation. The report was that there is a ruckus.”
“Ruckus?”
“Correct. I thought you might want to check things out.”
“Ruckus falls under Sam’s jurisdiction. Not mine. I am the fire marshal.”
“Ed is on duty and he isn’t answering.”
“Did you try Sam’s cell phone?”
“I thought you might do that.”
“Me? He’s your boss.”
“Fine. Forget it.”
“Wait a minute. Wait just a doggone minute,” Jake said, holding a tight rein on a short fuse. “I’ll call Sam, then I’ll go out to Mulberry Lane, on your anonymous tip and evaluate for a code violation as the fire marshal. But you, the sheriff and I will be discussing protocol come Monday morning, Ms. Harmony.”
“That would be fine, Chief.” The phone clicked in his ear.
Jake hung up and shook his head. What was going on? More importantly, what was Bitsy up to this time?
A ruckus out at Maggie’s.
What kind of trouble was she into now?
Jake prayed none of it involved matches or an open flame.
He took his good old time getting ready. No need to rush just because Bitsy said so.
Jake drove like a tourist and slowed down even more once he turned onto Maggie’s street. He stopped the truck in the middle of the road and simply stared in astonishment.
Bumper-to-bumper automobiles lined the road for a quarter of a mile and filled the long driveway up to Maggie’s cottage. At rough count there were at least thirty vehicles. The area looked like a used-car dealership during a fire sale. People were coming and going everywhere.
Jake had the fire-marshal truck and the kitten was in a carrier in the backseat.
Glancing over his shoulder he noted the feline had finally run out of energy. Curled into a tight ball, she snoozed on top of an olive-drab wool blanket, a paw over her eyes as though to block out the world.
He could relate. There were times he felt exactly the same way. Like right now.
Backing the car down the road after an unsuccessful attempt to find a place to park, he pulled into his father’s driveway and rolled down the windows halfway for the benefit of Maggie’s new cat. He would walk from there.
First he took a quick look at his father’s house. The damage was extensive. Once again it hit home how the Lord had His hand on both Mack and Maggie that night.
He started a slow walk up the street to Maggie’s, counting the number of code violations as he went. Double parked. Parked in front of a fire hydrant. Blocking driveways. Cars parked on lawns without authorization.
No way, no how could the Paradise Volunteer Fire Department get through this mess.
Clearly a fire hazard.
Hands in his pockets Jake strolled up to the front door. Glancing up, he inspected the heavy dark clouds, thankful the rain had eased for the time being.
Through the door he could see the entire population of Paradise squeezed into the little house. The noise level confirmed his speculation. When his light knock failed to attract anyone’s attention, Jake opened the screen and stepped right in. Edging past several members of the auxiliary who were chatting in the front hall, he noted Maggie’s office door was closed, so he aimed for the general direction of the kitchen, squeezing past people as he inched forward. The living room table where Maggie worked on her projects was covered with a bright tablecloth and more food than even this party would be able to consume.
Paradise’s deputy greeted him from his position guarding the desserts.
“Nice party, huh?” Ed commented. He was in uniform, a glass of lemonade in one hand and two brownies in the other.
Jake stared in surprise. “Ed, I thought you were on duty, doing the Friday-night Breathalyzer bust.”
Ed’s face flamed red and he quickly chewed and swallowed. “I am. But, hey, I did a little traffic control downtown earlier. Even busted Junior Lawrence for jaywalking. Now I’m on my dinner break.”
“
How long has this party been going on?” Jake asked.
“Started a few hours ago. You missed the first wave of folks.”
“Did I? That’s too bad.” Jake frowned. “Where’s your patrol car?”
“Off the road, so I don’t get blocked in.” Ed took another healthy bite of brownie and eyed the table for his next course.
“Interesting parking configuration out there,” Jake commented. “What was your plan if we needed to get an emergency vehicle down the lane?”
The lanky deputy squirmed. “I’m working on that, Jake. Give me a chance, would you?”
“Just how long have you been here, Ed?”
Ed glanced at his watch. “Not real long. Glad Bitsy got a hold of you. I told her I’d call you, but she said she’d rather invite you herself.”
Jake nodded. His baloney radar was going off and registering well over the legal limit right now. So this was how Bitsy invited him to a party?
From behind someone gently took his arm, tugging him into the kitchen. Susan.
“Stop harassing Ed. He’s only following orders.”
“Orders? Whose orders?”
“Bitsy’s and mine,” Betty Jones said as she stood at the stove.
Jake snorted.
“Stew or mystery casserole?” Susan asked, wielding a spatula in front of his face
“I recommend the stew, Jacob,” Mack said.
“Dad. I see you’re having fun.” His father leaned against the counter in Maggie’s kitchen.
“Oh, sure. I love a good party. I’m celebrating tonight.”
“Celebrating being alive?” Jake questioned his father.
Mack’s face lit up. He pulled Bitsy close and kissed her on the cheek. “That, too, but I asked Bitsy to marry me and she said yes.”
“Whoa, Dad. That’s great.” Jake did his best to not show how stunned he really was. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, son.”
He stood and shook his father’s hand, and then turned and stared at Bitsy for a moment before embracing her in an awkward hug.
“You look pretty happy, too,” Jake said to Susan.
“I just love happy endings,” Susan said. “Besides, that means more business for my shop. I’m thinking of expanding to wedding planning.”
Safe in the Fireman's Arms Page 17
