by Lee McKenzie
On the ride back to the house, he realized he hadn’t tried to contact his mother and he didn’t know the number of the community center. Maybe he could get Rory to run over there and tell her what had happened. But when they reached the house, the flower-painted van wasn’t there. He had no idea where Rory had gone, but she hadn’t gone home.
“Would you mind running us over to the community center?” he asked the police officer. “I need to drop off my daughter with my mother.”
THE MORNING AFTER the fire, Rory was back on Annie’s sofa. Buick was sound asleep by her feet, as unfazed by the fire and their dramatic third-floor rescue as she was rattled by them. And Mitch had rescued him twice.
If Rory had slept at all, it had been badly. She was distressed about the fire and felt sick for not doing a better job of protecting Miranda, but mostly she was devastated by Mitch’s anger. In spite of Annie’s assurances that he would calm down once he realized this wasn’t her fault, she was overwhelmed by the feeling that their relationship was over.
To add insult to injury, a neighbor had filmed the rescue, including her descent in the green bridesmaid’s dress, and had sent it to a local television station. Her phone had started ringing soon after it aired.
Jess had caught it on the TV at the bar and had called Nicola, Paige and Maria. They’d all called Rory, as had several of the teachers she worked with. Then the school principal phoned to say he had already arranged a substitute so Rory could take off as much time as she needed. Just as well, since all her clothes were still in her apartment and all she had here were her jeans, the undergarments she’d been wearing, and the stupid green satin dress.
Later that evening, Betsy had called Annie, who relayed the information that other than the smoke that had filled the house, the damage was pretty much restricted to her studio in the basement. They wouldn’t know until today when the house would be habitable again, but Rory would be able to retrieve some of her things. Betsy’s insurance would pay for the clean-up.
Do you want to live there? Not if Mitch wanted to end things. From the day she’d moved in, she should have listened to her own advice. They lived in the same house, he was the father of one her students and he was still grieving the loss of his wife. She had known that a relationship with him would get complicated, and she had been right. After Annie had gone to bed, Rory had indulged in a good old-fashioned sob fest. Now, between that and lack of sleep, her eyelids felt puffy and gritty.
Her cell phone rang and she grabbed it from under a pile of balled-up tissues on the floor, hoping it wouldn’t wake Annie. It was her father.
Her throat tightened and her eyes went watery. “Hi, Dad.”
“Your mother called me last night to tell me about the fire. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
His concern reminded her of being a kid who was finding out that her parents were on the road to divorce—again. “It’s good to hear your voice, Dad. I’m so glad you called.”
“So, are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“You sure, sugar? You sound pretty shaky.”
She felt more like a tremor on the San Andreas Fault. “I’ll be fine.”
“Do you know how the fire started?”
“In the basement.” She told him how she’d been taking care of Miranda and that Betsy had asked her to check the kiln, and then the floodgates opened and the whole story poured out. She and Mitch had gone to the wedding together, spent the next day with Miranda, she had loved being part of a family. But he blamed her for the fire, and she didn’t know how she could possibly face him again. Her perfect life had turned into a complete disaster.
“The poor guy was probably in shock, Rory, especially after having to rescue his daughter from a burning building. He’ll come around once he’s had a chance to think things through.”
“I don’t know. Even if he does, I don’t think I can deal with this. We only dated for two days and we ended up having a big fight, with him accusing me of things that weren’t my fault. Sound familiar?” That last question had been a cheap shot. “Sorry, Dad. I shouldn’t be taking this out on you.”
“Rory, there’s no such thing as a perfect relationship. No matter how much people love each other, they’re going to fight from time to time.”
She didn’t respond.
“So tell me, do you love him?”
She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears.
“Rory?”
“I think so.”
“Then you owe it to yourself and to him, and to that little girl, to give this a chance.”
“You know I hate it when you’re right, don’t you?”
He laughed. “Trust me. I know a thing or two about how these things work.”
“While we’re on the subject of doing the right thing, have you talked to Mom?”
This time it was his turn to be at a loss for words.
“Like you said, you owe it to yourself and her to—”
“You’ve made your point,” he said. “I’ll talk to her when the time is right.”
“Thanks, Dad. I love you.”
“I’ll talk to you soon, sugar.”
She set her phone on the coffee table and picked up Miranda’s baby tooth. She’d put it there last night after she undressed and found it in her pocket. She rolled the small, smooth object between her thumb and forefinger, and she knew what she needed to do.
MITCH’S CAR WAS PARKED on the street when she pulled up in front of the house later that morning. She had borrowed a few clothes from Annie, but she really wanted to pick up some of her own things, and she had to talk to Mitch. She climbed the front steps and went inside. The smell of smoke and wet charred wood was overpowering.
Mitch met her in the foyer.
“I heard you drive up,” he said.
She took that as a good sign. She took a little pink satin pillow out of her bag and handed it to him.
“What’s this?”
“A tooth fairy pillow.”
His eyebrows shot up. “A…what?”
His confusion made her smile. “For Miranda. She lost a tooth yesterday when we were in my apartment. It’s inside the pillow.”
He stared at it for a moment. “Thanks. She’s going to love this, but she isn’t here right now. We’re staying at Thomas’s place till things get sorted out here. She and my mother are there now.”
“I’m staying at Annie’s.”
“I know. My mother told me.”
“I’m so sorry she was put in danger. I might have noticed the smoke sooner if we had stayed at your place, and I wish I had taken her down the stairs when the alarm went off instead of going out onto the balcony.”
Mitch shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You did the right thing, and none of this was your fault.”
“Your mother did ask me to check her kiln, to make sure it had shut off. I might have lost track of the time and—”
Mitch wouldn’t let her finish. “You didn’t, and that’s not what started the fire. The kiln wasn’t installed properly—the basement has a low ceiling and the kiln was too close to the walls and rafters.”
“How long has she had it?”
“She bought it this summer and had it installed just before Miranda and I moved in.”
“Poor Betsy. She must feel sick about this.”
Mitch gave her a grim smile. “You obviously don’t know my mother. She hired someone to install it, and she’s furious that he didn’t follow regulations. When she tracks him down, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.”
“You’re sure it wasn’t my fault?”
“You’re off the hook,” he said. “If anyone needs to shoulder some of the blame, I have to.”
“How is this your fault?”
“I knew there was a problem with the kiln’s automatic shut-off. I should have taken a look at it.”
“But you said that’s not what caused the fire.”
“It didn’t, but if I’d checked it, I might have noticed that
it hadn’t been installed properly.”
Typical, she thought. Classic Mitch Donovan thinking. According to Betsy, he thought his wife’s accident was his fault because he’d had to work overtime and she had gone to pick up Miranda instead. “Do you know anything about kiln installation?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
“Then how can this be your fault?”
She watched him shift his weight from one foot to the other. “Making sure Miranda has a safe place to live is my responsibility.”
“Sometimes accidents just happen and we don’t have any control over them.”
Mitch looked startled.
“I’m sorry,” she said hastily. “I wasn’t talking about your…about Miranda’s mother.”
“I know. But ever since the accident, it’s been hard not to be a little overprotective.”
She moved closer to him. “A little?”
He smiled and put his arms around her. “Okay, a lot. Can you live with that?”
“Are you asking me to?”
“I am.”
“Then I accept.”
He kissed her then, and she kissed him back, and she knew without a doubt that Mitch and his daughter were exactly what she’d been searching for. A family.
Epilogue
Six months later…
Mitch stood in the school playground, watching Rory and Miranda on the hopscotch court. The heels of Miranda’s running shoes lit up every time they hit the pavement. He’d thought the shoes were a bit over the top, but he was no match for those two, and they’d talked him into buying them. They were safer than shoes with wheels in the soles, they’d told him, and he couldn’t argue with that.
“Your turn,” Miranda said to Rory after she hopped off the court.
Mitch’s daughter tugged on his sleeve, one hand cupped beside her mouth, indicating she wanted to whisper something to him.
He leaned down to her level.
“When are we going to ask her?”
He quickly glanced at Rory, but she didn’t seem to have heard. There were still times when he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found someone who loved his daughter as much as she loved him. Since they’d moved back into the house after the fire, the boundaries between upstairs and downstairs had become blurred and he was ready to do away with them altogether.
Today she was wearing a flouncy canary-yellow skirt and a heavy midnight-blue sweater. She’d used a yellow, white and blue scarf to tie her hair into a ponytail, and her huge yellow-and-blue paisley bag sat beside the hopscotch court. He was always intrigued by her sense of style, today especially, and as he watched her, he knew he was completely and totally in love.
“Ssshhh,” he whispered back to his daughter. “We don’t want to spoil the surprise.” But he was just as excited as she was, and nervous as hell. Scared witless was more like it.
Miranda did her best to whisper more quietly. “Okay. But when?”
Maybe letting her in on the plan hadn’t been such a good idea. But then he’d never done anything like this before.
“You have to make sure she wins the game. Can you do that?”
“Yup.” That satisfied her, for the moment at least, but she couldn’t stand still.
“Your turn,” Rory said.
Miranda tossed a quarter onto the court and jumped in.
Rory casually linked her arm with his, and he found himself wishing he could kiss her. And he could, of course. Miranda had caught them several times and she didn’t seem to mind, but kissing Rory right now would remind his daughter why they were here.
Miranda wobbled on one foot and faked a fall. “Oh, no! You win.” She picked up the quarter they’d been using for a marker and put it in her pocket. “Dad, where’s Rory’s prize?”
“Right here in my pocket.”
Miranda stood beside him and when he winked at her, they both got down on one knee.
For a few seconds, Rory looked baffled. Then she grinned.
Mitch took the jeweler’s box out of his pocket. “Rory…Sonora Sunshine Pennington-Borland,” he said, fighting back a smile.
“Will you marry us?” he and Miranda said in unison.
He opened the box and she stared at the ring. The few seconds that ticked by while they waited for her answer felt like forever.
“Yes, I will. Of course I will!”
He slipped the ring on Rory’s finger, and then she flung herself into his arms, laughing and wiping away tears, and dragging Miranda into their embrace.
“I love you,” he said.
“Me, too,” Miranda said. “Do you like the ring? I helped pick it out.”
Rory held out her hand and looked at it. “It’s the most beautiful ring in the world.”
“Where are we going on a honeymoon?”
“Rory wants to visit one of the national parks this summer, remember?”
But Rory was shaking her head. “I think we should go to Disneyland.”
Miranda squealed with delight. “For real? Are you serious?”
“Totally serious.”
With Rory’s help, Mitch had come to realize that he was a good father and she was a good mother. Together, they’d be great parents. But that didn’t mean they had to be parents while they were on their honeymoon. “You and I can go someplace alone if you’d like.”
“A family honeymoon sounds perfect. I can’t imagine it any other way.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6062-1
FIREFIGHTER DADDY
Copyright © 2010 by Lee McKenzie McAnally.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at [email protected]
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.eHarlequin.com
