by Marta Perry
Her cool profile didn’t tell him a thing about what she was feeling. “I only said that if you weren’t interested, this probably wouldn’t work well.”
“I’m not interested.” He fought the longing to shout the words at her. “I’m only doing this because the chief insisted, and he’s not a man you can argue with.”
He was also the man who held the power to decide whether Gabe went back on active duty or had to settle for a desk job. Or, worse, a disability retirement.
No. The denial burned in his brain.
“It seems to me we’re both stuck.” She brushed a strand of pale blond hair behind her ear. “You have to do what your chief says. I have to do what Henley says if I want to get my grant.”
“You could talk to him again. Tell him someone else would work out better.”
Her hands moved restlessly on the wheel, stroking it as if it were a pet. “He wants you.”
“Because of the publicity.” Pictures of him on the front page of the local paper, flanked by pictures of the two firefighters who’d died that day.
“I suppose even philanthropists want positive publicity. You’re a hero.”
The word dropped on him like acid. “Believe me, nothing is staler than yesterday’s hero.”
“Obviously, Samuel Henley doesn’t think so.” She slanted a sideways glance at him. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
The attack went under his guard, and for a moment he couldn’t speak.
“It doesn’t,” he said when he thought he could control his voice. “I’m just saying that the whole idea is futile. As I understand it, you need someone who can prove this seizure dog thing of yours works.”
“I already know it works.” There was that passion again, flaring in her eyes as she shot a look at him.
“Okay, bad choice of words. You need someone to show the foundation the value of it.” He leaned forward. “Turn right at the next corner.”
She took the turn onto Elm Street. Thanks to Dutch elm disease, the street was now lined with maples, but no one had suggested changing the name. The May sunshine had brought into full bloom the magnolia tree his mother had planted in the front yard.
“This one.” He nodded toward the sprawling brick two-story his grandfather had built for his expanding family.
The current generation filled it up, too. He tensed at the sight of the cars in the curving driveway. It looked as if the whole family was here.
She stopped the car and turned to look at him, apparently knowing he had more to say on the subject.
“I’m not the right person to prove the worth of your program.” He leaned toward her, intent on convincing her he was right about this. “And it’s not because I’m stubborn or uncooperative.”
A smile flickered on her face, the first one he’d seen. It showed him an unexpected pair of dimples in her cheeks that made her seem both younger and more vulnerable. “It’s not?”
“No.” He had to be sure she understood this. “This seizure-alert thing only works if the person actually has seizures, right?”
“Of course.” Her eyes were wary.
“Then I’m no good to you. Because I’m not going to have any more seizures.”
She looked at him steadily for a long moment, and he didn’t have the slightest idea if she bought it. Then she lifted a level eyebrow.
“Will your doctor confirm that?”
His fists clenched. “Take my word for it. I won’t be a help to you. So the sooner you convince Henley this isn’t going to work, the sooner we can both get on with our lives.”
It was a nice speech. Unfortunately Nolie Lang looked at him as if she didn’t believe a word of it.
The approach of a woman who was probably Gabe’s mother prevented Nolie from replying. Good timing, because almost anything she said would have led to an explosion on Gabe’s part.
Did Gabe have any idea how deeply into denial he was? Probably not, or he’d show some sign that he didn’t quite believe his own words.
What if he’s right? The insidious question slipped into her mind as she got out of the car. If Gabe’s injury had healed, she’d be in the unique position of trying to demonstrate her techniques on someone who would never need them. And Samuel Henley would have put a condition on his grant that she could never fulfill.
Head swimming, she pasted a smile on her face and turned to the woman who’d come to greet them.
“Gabe.” Mrs. Flanagan had a quick smile and a pat on the cheek for her son. The unconscious lovingness of the gesture grabbed Nolie’s heart.
The woman held out her hand. “You must be Ms. Lang. I’m Siobhan Flanagan. Welcome to our home.”
Nolie looked into eyes that were as deeply blue as Gabe’s, but far less guarded. A few lines on her fair skin spoke of life experience, but only a strand or two of gray accented her black hair. Again, like her son’s.
“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Nolie shook hands, wondering a little. Gabe hadn’t called his mother, but she’d obviously known to expect them. That must mean the fire chief had called her, indicating a close relationship between them. She filed that fact away for later consideration.
“You come right on in.” Mrs. Flanagan linked her arm with Nolie’s. “We’re all eager to get to know you.”
All? Nolie took note of the cars lining the drive. “It looks as if you’re having a party. I can come another time.”
That actually brought a short bark of laughter from Gabe, following them up the walk. “No party. Just the usual crush of Flanagans.”
Mrs. Flanagan had a firm grip on her arm. Short of yanking herself free, she seemed to be stuck.
Gabe opened the front door, and a wave of sound hit her, taking her breath away. Apparently all the Flanagans were talking at once.
Gabe’s mother seemed to sniff the air. “Goodness, my stew.” She patted Nolie’s arm. “You’ll stay for supper with us. Don’t you run away until we have a chance to talk.”
She scurried off. She couldn’t know just how much Nolie wanted to run away.
Don’t be ridiculous. They can’t hurt you. She had to lecture herself on the subject of families now and then. Every family wasn’t like hers, after all.
And if she could gain the family’s cooperation, her work with Gabe might be considerably easier. So she’d do this.
People seemed to swirl through the huge living room and dining room that stretched the entire width of the house. She had a quick impression of comfortably overstuffed furniture and walls crowded with family photos—dozens of family photos.
Gabe was still at her side, and she could feel the solid strength of him through the brush of his arm against hers. She sought for something to say. “You have a big family.”
“You might say that. My parents have five kids, although sometimes it seems like more.”
“And you all live at home?”
Gabe’s eyes flickered with a touch of regret. “I have my own place. I moved home after the accident.”
She added that fact to her mental calculations of the dog who would be best for Gabe, always assuming he stayed with the program long enough to get a dog.
“I guess that seems odd, but my folks are old-fashioned.” He sounded slightly defensive. “They want their kids to live at home until they’re married.”
“Or longer.” The speaker must be one of Gabe’s brothers, since he had the trademark deep blue eyes and black hair. Probably in his mid twenties, he had an engaging liveliness to his face, and he carried a wiggling toddler under one arm. “I thought we’d never get Mary Kate out of the house.” He held out his hand to Nolie. “I’m Ryan.”
“The baby.” A red-haired woman arrived at his elbow. “I’m Mary Kate.” She started to shake hands with Nolie, then abruptly turned away to grab the toddler Ryan was dangling. “How many times have we told you not to hold Davy upside down? You want him to throw up on you? Come help me put a leaf in the table.”
They left be
fore Nolie had a chance to say anything, even assuming she could have thought of something. She glanced at Gabe, to find him watching her with amusement.
“They’re a bit much, I grant you. Mary Kate’s the oldest, and the two red-haired hooligans are hers.” He nodded toward a boy and girl chasing each other. “I’m next, then Seth, then Theresa, then Ryan. The little guy Ryan was holding is Seth’s son, Davy. Don’t worry about remembering their names.”
Because she wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter?
“I don’t want to impose.” What she wanted was to get out of this crowd and back to her quiet house. Alone. “I just needed to get a sense of what your home life was like so that I can choose an appropriate animal.”
“My mother would consider it an insult if you left now.”
He nodded to Siobhan, who was clinking a spoon on a glass. The signal sent her family scurrying to the dining-room table—a long walnut oval covered by a lace tablecloth.
She could guess that Gabe’s opinion didn’t match his mother’s. Still, she needed all the help she could get with the man. If she didn’t win him over—
She stopped that thought before it could take over. She managed a smile and let herself be piloted to a seat.
The man next to her was obviously Gabe’s father, and just as obviously the patriarch of the clan. He sat in a massive chair at the head of the table, watching benevolently as his family took their places.
He didn’t say anything, just waited as they quieted and clasped hands around the table. Before she quite knew how it had happened, Nolie felt her hands held firmly by Gabe’s father on one side and the sister she hadn’t been introduced to on the other—Theresa, she thought.
Mr. Flanagan led them in grace, a very faint Irish accent touching the words of the prayer as it rolled out. His Amen was punctuated by the clatter of dishes.
“Getting us all sorted out yet?” Gabe’s sister, Theresa, had a quick smile. “My father is Joe, and I’m Terry. I’m afraid we can be overwhelming at first glance.”
“And at second,” Ryan added from across the table.
“I think I’m getting there.” She glanced around, sorting out Mary Kate, her husband and children.
Terry grinned. “Mary Kate, Seth and I got Dad’s red hair and freckles, but Seth’s darkened when he grew up. Gabe and Ryan look like Mom.”
She nodded, wondering whether learning their names was of any use. If Gabe had his way, this could be the first and last time she met the Flanagans.
Seth was the solid, calm one, then. He sat next to the toddler, rescuing the teething biscuit the child dropped. “And Davy’s mother?”
Sorrow darkened Terry’s lively face. “She died shortly after he was born. Davy lives here with us.”
The sorrow touched her. “You must be very close.”
“We are that.” Gabe’s father had obviously heard her comment. “Every single one a firefighter, and proud of it.”
She blinked. “You’re all firefighters?”
“Well, not Siobhan. And not Mary Kate, now that she has a family. But her husband filled in for her, didn’t you, Kenny?”
Mary Kate’s husband stopped buttering bread for one of his children to nod, smiling.
“That’s amazing.” Would that make it easier or harder to enlist their aid with Gabe? She didn’t know.
Joe Flanagan shrugged. “It’s what we do. What we were born for. Maybe Gabe most of all.” He leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “Gabe is strong as a horse. He’ll be back on the job in no time. I’m not saying anything against this program of yours, but Gabe doesn’t need it.”
“I see.” That seemed to answer the question of whether she could expect any help from Gabe’s family. His father, at least, was just as convinced as Gabe that Nolie was unnecessary.
Her head began to throb from the noise. She glanced at Gabe, wondering how he stood it all.
But Gabe was leaning back in his chair, gesturing with his fork at something one of his brothers had said. His angular face was the most relaxed she’d seen it. His hair, nearly blue-black where the overhead light reflected on it, tumbled onto his forehead a little.
As if he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her. His face was open to her for just an instant, and her heart seemed to turn over. Her breath caught, and the noise around them faded.
Whoa. She’d better be careful. Because if Gabriel Flanagan looked at her that way too many times, she’d could find herself agreeing with just about anything he said.
Chapter Two
By the time supper ended, Gabe was beginning to think he’d never get rid of Nolie Lang. Every member of his family seemed determined to talk to her. He could only hope they were all telling her the same thing he had—that he didn’t need her help. The woman should leave convinced she’d have to find another guinea pig for her experiment.
Judging by the way Nolie’s gaze kept darting toward the door, she was ready to be free of the Flanagans, too, for the moment, at least. Well, he wanted her to be free of them permanently.
He’d steered clear while Mom had showed her the wall full of fire-department photos and citations above the mantel, not wanting to be the subject of his mother’s praises in front of this woman.
But now Ryan joined them, chatting away as if he and Nolie were old friends. Gabe hoped he was reinforcing the family line—Gabe doesn’t need your help. Gabe is fine. Gabe will be back on the job in no time.
Ryan seemed to be turning on an inordinate amount of the Flanagan charm. Now, why was his little brother going to so much trouble? It certainly wasn’t as if Nolie were his type. Ryan might be initially attracted by the long blond hair, but everything else about Nolie would turn him off.
Plain. That was all he could think. She looked as if she hadn’t made the faintest effort—just run in from the barn and tossed on a white shirt and navy blazer. Even his tomboy sister Terry would have done a better job for an important interview.
So what interested Ryan so much? He sauntered closer to find out.
“That’s my father and his brothers when they first joined the department.”
Ryan had obviously taken over the explanations, while his mother smiled and nodded. Nolie couldn’t know it, but the Flanagan kids favored either Mom or Dad in personality as well as looks. Mary Kate, Terry and Ryan were as ebullient as Dad, while he and Seth had his mother’s reserve.
Ryan’s eyes sparked with mischief as Gabe joined them. “And here’s the brand-new citation for our latest hero, Gabriel Flanagan.”
Nolie studied the plaque with every indication of interest. Gabe averted his eyes from it and glared at his brother.
“Give it a rest, Ryan.”
“Hey, I will when you stop gold-bricking and get back on the job. I don’t want to have to uphold the family traditions single-handedly.”
“You’ve got Dad, Seth and Terry to do that.”
He could only hope they were also keeping Ryan in line. The kid had a tendency to take more risks than he needed to at times.
“They’re not the current hero.” Ryan, of course, knew exactly what buttons to push.
“Knock it off.” That came out with enough of a snarl in his voice that even his baby brother knew he meant it.
With another engaging grin for Nolie, Ryan moved away.
“We are proud of you,” his mother said softly. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Sure, Mom.” He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. “I understand, but Nolie didn’t come to hear the whole Flanagan saga.”
“Actually it’s quite helpful in deciding what kind of dog will work best for you,” Nolie said. “I’m finding it all very interesting.”
She was probably picturing the publicity she’d get for her program with him as her prized exhibit. Well, he wasn’t going to join her dog-and-pony show, not if he could help it.
A clatter of dishes from the kitchen diverted his mother. She murmured an apology and scurried in that direction.
; As soon as she’d gone, he squared off with Nolie. “I already told you. I don’t need a dog.”
Her level brows lifted. “I believe I heard you tell the chief that you’d cooperate.”
“What I told—” he began.
“Are you seeing all the family history?” This time the interruption came from a man new to the gathering, and he gritted his teeth before attempting introductions.
“Nolie Lang, this is my cousin, Brendan Flanagan. Come to scrounge some leftovers, no doubt.”
Brendan’s grin admitted the truth of that barb. “Only partly. I also wanted to meet Ms. Lang.”
“Nolie, please.” She extended her hand. “Are you another of the Flanagan firefighters?”
Brendan shook his head, probably used to explaining his story.
“I’m the one holdout—the only Flanagan who didn’t go into the family business. I’m the minister at Grace Church.”
Gabe couldn’t miss Nolie’s reaction to that. She snatched her hand back as if she’d touched hot metal, and her skin went pale under her tan.
Now what, exactly, was going on with the woman?
“Brendan keeps us in line,” Gabe said with deliberate casualness, watching her. “If all the Flanagans aren’t sitting in a row on Sunday morning, he wants to know why.”
“And I’m also the fire department chaplain, so they can’t get away from me at work, either,” Brendan added. “Which I guess means I didn’t completely reject the family business.”
He could tell by the way Brendan studied Nolie’s face that he’d noted her intense reaction, too.
“I see.” She gave a meaningless smile, and he sensed that only strong control kept her from bolting out the door. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a card. “Here’s my address,” she said, handing it to Gabe. “I’d like to meet at the farm tomorrow, if that’s possible for you.”
His jaw clenched. “I don’t think I can make it.”
Their gazes clashed, and he saw a determination in hers that matched his own. “I think you’d better find a way.”
