CHAPTER THIRTEEN
KIMBERLY SLAMMED ONE drawer closed and yanked open another. It was here. It had to be here—
A rap on the door interrupted her frenzied search. Pushing her hair back from her eyes, she went to the door and peered through the peephole.
Daniel... Here already, and she wasn’t even finished packing. She swung open the door. “Hi, there. I’m not ready—”
Daniel’s glance zoomed past her. “Wow. That—that looks like an explosion in a Laundromat.”
“Oh.” Her face heated up the way it did whenever she was embarrassed. “I—I lost something, and I’ve been pulling everything out trying to find it.”
“Can I help?”
She hesitated, then with a shrug of her shoulders stood back and let him in. “I sure haven’t had any luck, and I can’t leave without it. I can’t believe I’ve lost it.”
“What?”
“Marissa’s bracelet—the bracelet her birth mother gave her.” Her heart ached at the loss. How would she ever explain to Marissa that the one link she had to her birth mother was gone?
Daniel frowned. “Bracelet?”
“You know, the gold ID bracelet, the one with her name engraved on it. The one I showed you? Her birth mother gave it to her—well, that’s what the social worker told me anyway.”
The confusion on his face cleared. “Oh. That one. I thought, well... You’ll want to find it, then.”
“Yes. And I’ve looked everywhere. The last time I had it was when we went to the fire station. You know, we talked to you at the farm, and then we showed you the bracelet? And then you took us back to the station.”
Daniel nodded. He slowly turned around the room and surveyed the mess. Kimberly was embarrassed all over again. She started stuffing things back into her and Marissa’s suitcases, but he halted her with a wave of his hand.
“You checked your pocket?” he asked.
“Yeah, first thing I did. And my makeup bag, where I usually keep the jewelry I take with me on a trip. And Marissa’s toiletries bag. When I couldn’t find it, that’s when I started tearing the place apart.”
He closed his eyes and stood stock-still. Frustration rose within Kimberly. He was wasting time. How could a man who hardly knew her or her habits even presume to think he could imagine where she’d put a baby bracelet?
Then he nodded with a measure of satisfaction and opened his eyes again. “If it’s not on the floor of the closet, then it’s with your keys.”
“What?” Kimberly gawked at him. “I checked the closet—what do you mean, my keys?”
“Yeah—what’s the one thing you’d need right away? That you wouldn’t want to leave in a strange hotel room? Your keys, right?”
And suddenly it came to her—the bracelet was with her keys. She sprang to the dresser where her purse was perched haphazardly amongst a pile of books and notepads she’d tossed out of her suitcase during the hunt. She stuck her fingers down deep into the pocket where she usually kept her keys...and felt the tiny links of the bracelet, trapped in the bottom crease.
Kimberly pulled it out and gasped. “How did you do that?” she asked. “I’d even forgotten.”
Daniel shrugged. “It comes from being a firefighter, I guess. You have to find things, or people, in a hurry in the middle of zero visibility, when the roof may crash in on you at any minute. And anyway, that’s where I would have put something that important to me.”
“Thank you. If I’d lost this...” Kimberly clasped the bracelet in her hand. Swallowing hard, she opened her palm and stared at the shining gold nameplate. Simple and plain, the only decoration it had was the beautiful engraved script that spelled out Marissa’s name. On the back, it had her date of birth and even her birth weight and length.
The birth mother had gone to extraordinary lengths to have this done and get the piece of jewelry to the social worker. Over the years, for Kimberly, the bracelet had come to symbolize all the love and affection the birth mother must have had for Marissa. She had to love her, to be thinking of her, to want her child to have something from her.
Something lasting, something that would never tarnish or turn.
And Kimberly had almost lost it. A careless tug of her keys might have yanked the bracelet free and landed it on the street. It would have likely ended up on a pawnshop shelf or been melted down for quick cash. She closed her fingers around it again. “Thank you. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Daniel seemed flummoxed by her gratitude, uncomfortable even. “It was nothing. Really. But I’m glad I could help.”
“Oh, you did! And you can help me out by reminding me I’m putting it in the zipper compartment of my purse.” Carefully she tucked the bracelet into a secure pocket. She looked up. “But—” Kimberly swept her hand around the room. “Now I’ve got to straighten everything and repack. And Marissa’s not going to know what on earth has kept me.”
“I don’t pretend to know how to fold girl clothes to suit you, but...”
“Really, I mean, it’s so late that I’ll be charged another day anyway—”
“No.” Daniel shook his head and shoved his fingers into the front pockets of his dark uniform pants. “I talked with Annie, the night clerk, and she said if you vacated the room by five-thirty, she’d put you down as a late checkout. She does that for the county sometimes when we have instructors come in for a training seminar. It lets them have the room to store their stuff so they don’t have to pack it up that last morning.”
Kimberly glanced at the bedside clock. “Oh, wow! Fifteen minutes! I’d better get a move on, because that’s seventy dollars plus tax.”
Now she began tossing things in the suitcases pell-mell, making circles around the room and the adjoining bathroom to be sure she hadn’t left anything. It was the quickest, dirtiest packing job she’d ever done, and it felt even weirder to be doing it under the watchful eye of Daniel.
“I swear,” she gasped as she sat on the overstuffed bag, “I never pack like this.” She tried and failed to zip up the bag.
Daniel walked over to her. “Here. That’s going to take a little more muscle, I think.” He leaned down, and she caught a whiff of soap and water and a hint of lime. It made her think of beaches in the tropics. His hand closed over hers, and together, they zipped the bag shut.
For a moment she stood there, her back against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body pour into hers, his breath on her cheek. She hadn’t been this close to a man in a very long time—and it had been even longer since she’d actually wanted to be this close.
But just when she was summoning the nerve to turn into his embrace, he released her and stepped back, leaving her feeling cold and alone in the over-air-conditioned room.
With impeccable smoothness, he gripped the suitcase. “I’ll take this one to the car for you. You can get that other one?”
“S-sure,” Kimberly whispered.
Alone in the room, she sank to the bed and sat on it, the edge of the too-firm mattress biting into the backs of her thighs.
Maybe taking up Ma on her invitation was the wrong move. Maybe, if Daniel could make her feel weak in the knees by simply standing too close to her, she’d lose her focus in her hunt for Marissa’s birth mother. Right now, single-mindedness was what she needed more than anything.
Single-mindedness would be hard to have with Daniel distracting her every other moment.
Logic fought back. It wasn’t, she reminded herself, as if Daniel would always be around. He had to work, after all, and she would use these precious few days to the max, so she’d be gone, as well. And having a home to stay in had even more advantages than saving on hotel bills; no, she’d have access to a kitchen, so they wouldn’t have to spend money eating out, and maybe Ma would let her use the washer and dryer.
Plus, Marissa would be happier with space and kids her own age to hang out with.
Kimberly put her hand to her face, considering, and discovered that Daniel’s scent still lingered on her
palm. It buzzed through her, jangling her nerves.
Clomping footsteps on the breezeway outside grabbed her attention. Daniel’s voice and a woman’s filtered through the thin door to the unit. Kimberly popped up, surveyed the room and satisfied herself she’d left nothing behind.
She slung her purse over her shoulder and grabbed the remaining bag as Daniel tapped on the door.
Yes. For better or worse, she’d accept Ma’s hospitality. She’d simply have to use good common sense.
Who knows? she thought to herself as she opened the door to find Daniel and presumably Annie waiting for her. Maybe being around Daniel more will help me convince him to share whatever secrets he’s keeping about Marissa’s birth mother.
* * *
THE ONLY LIGHT on in the house was the one over the kitchen sink when Daniel arrived back at Ma’s later that night. He was careful not to slam his truck door, mindful of guests who were probably sleeping.
His breath caught as he realized he could form a clearer mental image of Kimberly sleeping than he should have been able to. He could picture her snuggled up in billowy white sheets, her dark curls spread out against the pillow.
This was exactly what he didn’t need—and exactly why he’d made himself scarce and headed to town once he’d hoisted Kimberly and Marissa’s luggage into two empty bedrooms. He’d wanted to avoid sharing supper with Kimberly after what had happened in that hotel room.
Nothing happened, he tried to convince himself.
Yeah, but you wanted it to.
Putting it out of his mind for about the ninety-ninth time, he crunched across the pea gravel Ma had spread out as a turnaround and mounted the steps.
A shadow moved on the back porch swing.
Daniel’s pulse ratcheted up, slowed to a more reasonable pace, then sped up again when he realized it was Kimberly.
“Sorry if I scared you,” she said. Her words were quiet, barely above a whisper, but her voice had such a crystal clear quality that he was sure he could hear it over a roaring structure fire.
“I wasn’t expecting— I thought you’d be asleep.” He came to a stop at the top of the steps and grabbed hold of the cap topping the deck post.
“Oh, so you were trying to avoid me?” she teased.
His silence was his confession. Daniel made a clumsy attempt to recover, saying, “I figured you’d want time to get settled in—and I did have that inspection to do.”
That inspection wasn’t due for another week, but he’d grabbed on to the excuse like a lifeline.
Because whenever she stared up into his eyes, he had to bite his tongue not to blurt out everything he knew about Miriam.
She patted the porch swing. “Want to know what Randy—excuse me, Pax—told me?”
He could hardly resist. His work boots echoed off the deck boards. The swing dipped a bit under his weight as he sat down on one end, and he had to shift toward her to equal out the load.
“Was he helpful?”
“Oh, he got your message loud and clear,” Kimberly told him in a dry voice.
Daniel gave her a sharp glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What is it that’s so terrible you don’t want me to know, Daniel? I mean, if you gave me the girl’s name, I’d be gone, out of your hair.”
Daniel swiped at his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose. He stared down at the scuffed toes of his work boots and saw that the deck boards needed a good staining before the fall. “I don’t want you gone,” he admitted, and he realized with a start that he meant that with every fiber of his being.
“Obviously not,” she retorted, “because if you do, you’re going about it in all the wrong ways. I don’t need chapter and verse about Marissa’s birth mother. I need to ask her one question. Or not even ask her—I’d settle for anyone who knew the answer to it.”
“You say that now,” Daniel muttered.
“What?”
“I said, you say that now. But if I did give you her name—mind you, I’m not saying I even know it—but if I did, then it would be something else you’d want to know. And then after you had that question answered, it would be just one more thing. I grew up with sisters. I know about how women’s minds work.”
“Well, I never!” Kimberly drew back as if she’d been stung. “That’s a sexist remark if I ever heard one.”
“Okay, fair enough. I know how people’s minds work. Curiosity gets the better of us. Look, if I pay the money for Marissa to go to Indiana, would you take her?”
She chuckled. “And you said you didn’t want me to leave.”
Frustrated, he leaped from the swing, causing it to gyrate wildly. He reached out a hand to steady it, only to find his fingers gripping Kimberly’s knee.
She put a hand over his and pulled him back down. “Don’t march off. Talk to me. Surely if we discuss this, we can come up with some sort of resolution.”
“I offered you one not thirty seconds ago,” he growled. “And for the record, I’m not trying to run you off. I’m... I need to keep my word, Kimberly. I made a promise to her. Okay? And a man is only as good as his word.”
She let go of his hand. “So you do know more than you’re telling.”
“Of course I do, but I can’t tell you. Don’t you get it? This girl put her faith in the laws of the State of Georgia. It took a tremendous amount of courage to do what she did, and the only reason she could make that leap was to know—to absolutely know—that her identity would remain a secret. There are reasons that I can’t tell you—good reasons. It’s not... What’s the word? You’re the English teacher. When it’s just your willfulness, the mood you happen to be in at the moment?”
“Caprice,” Kimberly whispered.
“That’s it. It’s not caprice. I’ve told you what I can. I swear to you. And rest assured, it’s killing me to know Marissa needs help and I can’t give it to her. You realize that, right?” Now it was Daniel staring at Kimberly earnestly.
He was gratified to see her head dip a fraction of an inch. “I know you’re a good man, and you don’t want to break the law.” Her concession was shot through with fatigue and resignation.
She stood up and without saying so much as a good-night, crossed in front of him and made for the back door. As she put her hand to the knob, she stopped and turned back. “You’ll be glad to know, then, that Pax didn’t really tell me anything.”
With that, she slipped inside and closed the door with a quiet thud.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IF KIMBERLY HAD thought that she’d avoid Daniel by getting up extra early for her breakfast, she’d been sorely mistaken. As she walked into Ma’s kitchen, there he was, pouring a steaming mug of coffee.
The gray light of early morning shone through the window and lit his uniformed figure, touching the planes of his face. Even with something as simple as pouring coffee, Daniel Monroe was all concentration.
“Can I pour you one?” he asked, not turning to face her.
She jumped, unaware that he’d been aware of her presence. “You have ears like a cat,” she observed.
“Need to, if you’re fighting a fire.”
“Is it...” She stretched out to accept the mug he’d poured for her. “Is it as dangerous as it seems? Firefighting, I mean?”
Daniel shrugged. He peeked into the toaster oven. “I’ve got two pieces of raisin toast. Care for one? I can make some more.”
“Sure. That would be good.” Kimberly couldn’t understand why his niceness made her feel embarrassed about the night before. She’d been right. Okay, so she’d been more than a little short on tact, but this was about her daughter.
Again, with that silent air of focus, he pulled the butter from the refrigerator and sliced two pats. She noticed how he put each one precisely in the center of the raisin bread.
“It’s not if you know what you’re doing,” Daniel said suddenly.
His words bewildered her—but then she realized he was giving her a delayed response to her earl
ier question. “Firefighting?” she prompted.
“Yeah.” He shut the toaster-oven door and propped himself against the kitchen counter. “If you’re properly trained, and you have the right equipment, and everybody keeps their word and does what they need to do, then even in the worst fire, you’ll get the job done safely.”
“That’s a lot of ifs.” Kimberly slid down into a ladder-back chair at the kitchen table. “Any one of them can go wrong.”
Daniel shrugged again. “The only thing you really have no control over is whether the firefighter beside you is going to keep his word, do what he says. I make sure my crews are trained and have the right equipment. That mitigates a lot of the risk. Besides, somebody’s gotta do it. What are we supposed to do? Let a person’s whole life burn down because somebody might get hurt? We can’t let that happen.”
Kimberly traced the lip of her mug, letting her finger linger over a tiny chip in the otherwise glossy finish. “Your attitude is kind of surprising. I mean...Pax said your dad died in a fire.”
Daniel’s scowl cut deeply into his face. He took a gulp of his coffee. “Pax says too much.”
“It didn’t happen that way?” She knew she was pushing too hard, but maybe if she understood Daniel—Pax had said she had to get to know him, to see what made him tick—then she could figure out how to convince him to tell her what he knew.
Daniel’s jaw worked, the muscles taut. “Yes, my dad was killed in a fire. It was...” He trailed off.
“Don’t say a freak accident. Because that blows what you said a while ago about mitigating risk right out of the water.”
“No, it most certainly wasn’t a freak accident,” he said grimly. He lifted an index finger. “One guy. One arrogant firefighter who thought he knew better. That’s why my dad died.”
Kimberly held her breath. She waited to see if he would tell her more.
Her patience paid off. He set the mug down with a thud, so hard that a rivulet of black coffee dribbled down the side. “He wasn’t where he was supposed to be, that guy. And he didn’t respond to my dad’s radio calls to evacuate the structure. So my dad...my dad went back in to find him. See, that was my dad’s promise, that he’d never leave a firefighter behind. And he kept his end of the bargain.”
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