The Firefighter's Family Secret

by Shirley Jump

  “There’s no way I can get a wedding pulled together in three months,” Rachel said, and tried not to let her own disappointment show through. This would have been the opportunity she’d needed, the big break that would breathe new life into her gasping business. “I’m still running this store full time. And the amount of work involved in such a short time frame...” She let out a long breath. “I’m sorry, Ginny.”

  “But you have to do it, Rachel. You are seriously the only one in the world I trust to handle my wedding. Can you please, pretty, pretty please, just think about it? Just for a day or two.” Ginny cocked a hip to the side and wagged a pink-tipped nail in Rachel’s direction. “You know, my wedding should make all the papers, and if my daddy has anything to say about it, it’ll end up on the local news, too. That should be great for your business! A bonanza, for sure!”

  It would be fantastic for her business. But Rachel couldn’t see a way to make it work. There simply weren’t enough hours in the day to do both. She couldn’t let her father down, couldn’t abandon his store. But instead of telling Ginny that straight out, Rachel found herself saying, “Yeah, sure, I’ll think about it.”

  Ginny squealed, then drew Rachel into a tight hug. “Awesomesauce. I’ll call you in a couple days or you call me. I’m so excited!”

  After waving as Ginny pulled away from the curb in her pink Mercedes, Rachel let her smile falter as she slowly walked back into the empty shop. There were no customers, and the full shelves and almost empty cash register seemed to mock her. She was spending her days here, trying to keep her father’s dream alive, while her own died a slow death.

  On the back wall hung a series of plaques and a small shelf of trophies. Best Fisherman, Biggest Catch, Good Neighbor Award. All the things that made up her dad and his life here in Stone Gap. It was like walking through her memories, remembering the fishing trips to the lake, perched in the back of the boat when he reeled in the biggest bass anyone had ever seen, sitting on a hard metal folding chair in the lobby of the town hall while the mayor of Stone Gap handed her father a plaque and a citation for his help the day after a hurricane whipped through Stone Gap and leveled half the town.

  That was the kind of guy her dad was. Hard-working, competitive, considerate to his neighbors, to everyone who knew him. She couldn’t abandon him.

  Couldn’t put his dreams on the shelf while she went after her own. Even if a part of her heart broke as she thought about letting her dream flutter away in a cloud of pink.

  Chapter Four

  Colton had never been the kind of guy that anyone would describe as romantic. He didn’t remember Valentine’s Day, rarely thought to bring flowers and stumbled over his words whenever he tried to say something poetic.

  Yet here he stood in the Garden of Eden flower shop in downtown Stone Gap a little after six in the evening, debating between roses and lilies. They all looked the same to him, a jumble of pinks and yellows and reds, and he realized he didn’t know enough about Rachel to tell which she liked best.

  God, this was a stupid idea. He could buy the wrong kind of flowers, or buy too many and make her wonder about his intentions. Maybe he should have picked up one of those solitary roses in the bucket on the counter at the gas station. Or nothing at all. Colton started to turn and leave when a familiar figure walked into the shop.

  His younger brother Luke. A very, very welcome sight.

  “If you ask me, roses are overrated. Women like something creative,” Luke said. He slipped into place beside Colton, the two of them squaring off against the colorful refrigerator case like two gunfighters. “Something that tells them you thought it through, or at least made a stab at thinking.”

  “Does staring at all these options for twenty minutes, too damned confused to pick anything out, count?”

  Luke chuckled. “Nope. Sorry.” He gestured toward the refrigerated case stuffed with fresh flowers. In the background, a saleslady in a green apron hovered, ready to jump in at any time. She’d already offered her help three times, but Colton had thought he could do this on his own.

  Ha-ha. Yeah, he pretty much sucked at this romance thing.

  “So,” Luke said, “I take it the agonizing over flowers is part of your campaign to impress the beautiful and intriguing Rachel Morris?”

  Even though his brothers had teased him when he’d returned to their table in the diner that morning, he hadn’t told them he had asked Rachel out. He’d just changed the subject when the food arrived, and the two of them had let it drop. Colton thought maybe his conversation with Rachel—and his interest in her—had dropped below Luke and Mac’s radar. Yeah, not so much. “How did you know that?”

  “For one, you ditched us to talk to her—”

  “Sorry.” Luke was right. The time he had with his brothers was limited, and he should have stayed at the table instead of getting distracted so easily.

  “No need to apologize. Pretty women always take precedence. Though you should expect some serious teasing in the days ahead.” Luke grinned. “All part of the initiation.”

  “There’s an initiation?”

  “Of course. You didn’t expect us to just let you become a Barlow without one, did you?”

  Colton chuckled. “Guess not.” Then he glanced over at his brother, half his flesh and blood. When it came to his brothers, Colton already felt like he was part of the family. With his father...not so much. “Though I don’t think it’s quite that simple.”

  “You talking about Dad?” Luke let out a sigh. “I don’t think it’s anything personal. I think he’s just struggling with the whole thing. You being here, what that means in...”

  “In what?” Colton prompted.

  “In a town this size. People talk, you know, and most people talk more than they should. About crap they know nothing about.”

  That was what Colton had been afraid of. That even at his age, being an illegitimate son was mostly an embarrassment. What had he been thinking, just showing up here last week? At Jack’s wedding, at that?

  His uncle Tank had warned him that Bobby might be...difficult. It’s going to take some getting used to, Tank had said. My brother isn’t one to embrace change. He’s a stick who is very happy staying in the mud.

  Maybe this was how his relationship with Bobby would be going forward. Was that enough for Colton? If it never progressed beyond small talk and awkward pauses?

  “Maybe it would be best if I went back to Atlanta,” he said.

  Luke scoffed. “Best for who? Not for me and Mac. Not for you. And not for Dad. I love my—our—dad, don’t get me wrong, but he’s being an ass.” He put up a hand before Colton could argue. “Now, back to the top priority. The pretty woman. You need swoon-worthy flowers, and I need flowers that say, forgive me for being a Neanderthal.”

  Colton smirked. “They sell those here?”

  Luke laughed. “They better. Or I’m in trouble again tonight.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “I had a fight with Peyton.” Luke threw up his hands. “I know, I know. But in my defense, it was a busy day and I was a little tired. And missed lunch.”

  Colton chuckled. Even he knew an empty stomach wasn’t grounds for an argument with your fiancée. Luke was smart to be buying flowers.

  “I don’t even know what to tell you.”

  “Just help me pick out some flowers that say, I’m sorry I was an idiot.” A sheepish grin filled Luke’s face. “I love Peyton too much to argue with her for more than five seconds. All I want to do is see her smile again.”

  At the mention of the word, a slow smile curved across Luke’s face. Colton envied that look. That pure...joy on his brother’s face when he talked about the woman he loved. Colton had never felt that way about anyone before. Had come close a few times, but never opened his whole heart like his brothers had with the women they
clearly adored.

  “Now, for you,” Luke said, “I recommend the almost-deluxe bouquet. You get a little of this, a little of that, not so many you’re walking in there with a garden in your hands, but enough to say, Hey, I like you. An almost-deluxe bouquet is not so fancy that it screams trying too hard and not so casual that it says yanked off the highway median at the last second.” Luke put up his hands. “Been there, done that. The results were...unsatisfactory.”

  Colton laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  In the end, he settled on a midsize bouquet with white and yellow daisies, a few pink lilies and a bunch of dark purple flowers he didn’t recognize. The saleslady wrapped it in thick paper, giving him all kinds of instructions about water and trimming the stems and something about a packet of floral preservative that she tucked between the stems. He just nodded and said yes to everything. Luke did the same, and a few minutes later the two of them were standing on the sidewalk.

  “Good Lord. We look like Cupid’s minions,” Luke said.

  Colton chuckled. “Might have to turn in our man cards.”

  “It’s all worth it, big brother, when she smiles that sweet smile of hers and says your name.” Luke clapped him on the shoulder. “Now I better get out of here before we both need some Kleenex.”

  Colton watched his brother walk away, Luke’s steps light and his smile wise. Colton never had been a romantic guy, but maybe it was time to change his ways—if doing so meant having the kind of happiness that hung around Luke like a ray of sunshine.

  * * *

  “You’re fidgety this evening,” her father said. He set his crossword puzzle to the side and laced his fingers together. “What’s going on?”

  “I...ah, just had too much coffee today.” If she told her father she had a date, there’d be all kinds of questions. She wasn’t sure this thing with Colton would go anywhere past an appetizer, so better not to say anything at all. It was just a dinner, nothing more.

  Her father peered at her over the bridge of his reading glasses. “And that’s why you’re wearing a new dress? And fancy shoes?”

  “How did you—”

  He leaned across the table then reached around her neck and pulled up a tag. “You forgot something.”

  That was what she got for being in a rush today and buying the dress in the few minutes she had between leaving the shop and going to her dad’s. It was a wonder she’d made it out of the store at all, given how nervous and rushed she’d been. Rachel scrambled to her feet and fished the scissors out of the junk drawer. She reached over her shoulder but couldn’t quite grasp the small tag. Her father got to his feet, crossed to her, lifted the tag then took the scissors from her hands. “Let me do that for you,” he said. “You’ve done more than enough for me.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  He pressed the small price tag into her palm. “You’re welcome.” Then his pale blue eyes met hers and his gaze softened. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? For what?”

  “For taking up every minute of your life with my...inertia.” He waved at the cluttered kitchen table, the dirty dishes in the sink, the pile of clean laundry waiting to be put away. “You deserve your own life. I’m glad you’re going out tonight. You don’t need to spend every night here, taking care of a tired old man.”

  She cupped his cheek, settling her palm against the rough stubble of his unshaven beard. “For the record, you are neither tired nor old. And I enjoy spending time with you.”

  His smile turned bittersweet and his eyes shone with unshed tears. “Get out of here. Go on your date. I’ll be fine.”

  “But what about dinner and—”

  “I know how to make a peanut butter sandwich. I’ll be fine.”

  She thought of all the meals her father had skipped. All the times he’d fallen asleep in this very kitchen chair, forgotten to take his daily heart medication...there were a thousand things he hadn’t done, a million ways he hadn’t been fine. “I should stay...”

  “You should go.” He waved her toward the door. “I mean it.”

  She started to argue again, but saw the determination in her father’s eyes. Maybe he was feeling better, and maybe he was going to start being more independent. Doubts clouded her thoughts, but in the end, she relented. “Okay, but if you need anything—”

  “I know how to dial a phone.” Her father smiled. It was a dimmer-watt smile than the one she knew and loved, but nevertheless, it was a start. “Have a good time, sweetheart.”

  She nearly turned back toward her dad’s house three times on her way to her apartment. Picked up her phone twice at a stop sign to call and check on him. She pulled under the carport, parked then stared at the phone in her hand and debated. He had said he would be okay. If she hovered too much, he’d never move forward. But if she didn’t hover enough...

  Surely her dad would be okay for a few hours. Besides, this date could be over before dessert. She might not like that hot single firefighter with the crooked smile.

  Uh-huh. That was a likely scenario.

  If she didn’t finish getting ready, he’d find her outside her apartment half assembled. Not that she probably wouldn’t look like that, anyway. Rachel was the complete opposite of a girlie-girl. She was happier in jeans than heels, and more comfortable in a faded T-shirt than a fancy dress.

  She turned off the car then headed inside. She had ten minutes until Colton arrived. Just enough time to check her makeup and hair for the thirtieth time.

  Just as she was about to dial her father’s number, Rachel’s cell rang. Melissa’s smiling face popped up on the caller ID. “Before you ask,” Rachel said when she answered the call, a knowing laugh in her voice, “yes, I did go with the black heels.”

  “Those strappy ones with the silver buckle?”

  “The very ones.” Melissa had been the first one Rachel had called after she’d agreed to the date with Colton. Her friend had cast the deciding vote among the three dresses Rachel had found in a little shop downtown between work and her dad’s. She’d been the one to talk Rachel into a pair of shoes she never expected to wear again, though she had to admit they looked really cute. “My feet have totally forgotten what it feels like to wear heels, and I think they’re going to stage a coup very soon.”

  Melissa laughed. “If you’re lucky, the heels won’t be on for long.”

  “It’s just dinner,” Rachel said, reminding herself as much as Melissa.

  “Who says you can’t have an appetizer first? Or dessert after?” Melissa let out a throaty laugh. “Preferably both, if you get lucky.”

  The thought of ending up in bed with Colton sent electricity through her veins. A man like that, with a rock-hard body and a ready smile, was the kind who would leave her breathless at the end of the night. And it had been so long—way too long—since she’d been with anyone that just the mere thought of curling around him in her queen-size bed was almost too much. “I hardly know the man.”

  “Trust me, that’s a good thing. Once you know them well, they start leaving their socks on the floor and belching at the dinner table. Better to go with a stranger who at least has a semblance of manners. And mystery.”

  “You love Jason.” Rachel had always envied Melissa and Jason’s marriage. They still shared secret smiles and private jokes, and nearly every opportunity they got they were either holding hands or leaving a little touch on the other’s shoulder. It was a nice relationship, the kind Rachel dreamed of having for herself someday. When she had more than a couple hours on a weekday evening to devote to dating.

  “I do love my husband. I just don’t love all his man-ness.” Melissa laughed. “Who am I kidding? Of course I do. But sometimes I wish he would go back to being the guy I dated. The one who tried so hard to impress me with his chivalry that he broke a toe opening the door to The Chalet restaurant too fa
st.”

  Rachel laughed. “I remember that. And then he spent the rest of the night trying to pretend it didn’t hurt.”

  “Until I insisted on taking him to the emergency room, and spending our first date between a guy who had been stabbed in the thigh and a woman with the flu. Hold on a sec.” Melissa’s voice moved farther from the phone. “Jason, Jr., you cannot feed your little sister your peas. And no, you can’t give them to the dog, either.” She came back to the phone with a sigh. “Want some kids? Free of charge.”

  “Not tonight, but I promise to babysit Friday night so you and Jason can get a night out. Maybe you’ll get lucky,” Rachel said.

  “Right now my version of getting lucky is him remembering to see if I’m in the car before he pulls away,” Melissa laughed. “Anyway, have a great time tonight with that hunk of burning love. And don’t disappoint me by being home before midnight.”

  Rachel said goodbye then peeked in the mirror yet again. She debated the dress and shoes for the thirtieth time—too much? Too fancy? Too sexy?—then decided if she changed, Melissa would never let her hear the end of it. Then the doorbell rang, which meant she was out of time to stall.

  She let out a deep breath then pulled open the door. “Hi.”

  Colton smiled. It was the kind of smile that washed over her and sent a little thrill through her veins. “Hi yourself. You look...amazing.”

  Just to see that look in his eyes made the purchase a total win. Her gaze took in the rest of him, the clean-shaven chin, the pale blue button-down shirt open at his neck, the dress pants that outlined a very trim, very nice, body. The conversation with Melissa—and Rachel’s fantasy about ending up in her bed with Colton—rushed back to her mind, complete with images of unbuttoning his shirt, and tugging those pants down his legs. Good Lord. She was going to have to start fanning herself any second. “Thank you. I’m not normally dressed up like this,” she said, waving a hand over the outfit. “I feel like a fish in an evening gown.”