Saved by the Fireman

by Allie Pleiter

  Melba looked pleased the group had taken so quickly to Charlotte. “You all remember it was Charlotte who set us up when I began to teach you all how to knit.” Charlotte was pleased, too, feeling right at home in a matter of minutes. She’d always been that way with knitters—she could walk into a yarn shop anywhere in the world and feel as though she was among friends.

  Her new friends all narrowed their eyes, evidently feeling the injustice of Charlotte’s job loss as much as she did. “They shouldn’t have let you go,” Violet said. “It’s a crying shame, that’s what I say, even if Chicago’s loss is our gain. Still, you seem a smart cookie to me. You’ll land on your feet in no time.”

  Charlotte wondered whether she ought to admit she said something similar to herself in the bathroom mirror every morning, pep-talking herself into facing another day of unanswered queries and diminishing funds. Instead, she just quoted something Mima always said, “From your mouth to God’s ears.”

  “That’s right,” another woman, Abby Reed, chimed in. “You’ve got yourself one powerful posse of prayer warriors on your side now. These ladies know how to storm the gates of heaven, I tell you.”

  “Good thing,” Charlotte admitted as she began stitching. Stitch, she told herself. Don’t complain or whine, just stitch. Look confident and you’ll be confident.

  “I admire you.” Tina turned her knitting to start a new row. “Not too many folks your age would see the value in buying a home and setting down roots while you’re still single. Shows confidence, independence, common sense—all those good ‘ence’ words.”

  “You should talk to my Ben.” Abby groaned. “Since he graduated he hasn’t shown any of those words except nonsense. You’d think a job was going to land gift-wrapped in his lap the way he lollygags around the house. Frank has threatened to force him onto the fire department in another two weeks if the boy doesn’t step things up.”

  Violet held up the navy blue shawl she was working on, a textured piece with white stripes down the side. Melba had told her Violet was one of the newer knitters, but Charlotte would have never known it by the woman’s work—she was a natural. “Think we could pray some sense into this and give it to him?”

  Abby laughed. “You’d be better off praying some patience into one and wrapping it over my mouth. We keep fighting over this. I was so excited to have him back home from college, but I’ll tell you the novelty has worn off.”

  “You were saying you needed more staff at the shop,” Marge Bowers suggested. “Can’t he work there?” Abby ran the town gift shop, which also stocked a small selection of locally produced yarn. Charlotte had been in there numerous times—she wasn’t a parent, but it didn’t take a genius to know it wasn’t a place most young men would ever want to work.

  Jeannie Owens balked. “Can you see Ben making sales in Abby’s shop? The only thing worse would be having him selling my candy—he’d eat all my profits.”

  “I thought about sending him over to bag at Halverson’s Grocery just to get the employee discount—that boy eats enough for five people!”

  Violet pointed her free needle at Abby. “You should do that. The bag boys at Halverson’s don’t show a lick of sense these days. Might do them good to have a college graduate in their midst.”

  “I just hope they motivate Ben to find a job that actually uses that expensive accounting degree.” Abby looked up from her knitting. “Hey, this is sounding like a better idea every minute.”

  Charlotte let her gaze wander from face to friendly face. How often had she told Melba that this was what she loved about Gordon Falls? The people shared things, getting through life side by side, warts and all. These were the women who had held Melba up during the long, painful decline of her father’s Alzheimer’s. They’d held her friend close when he’d finally passed away, so much so that Charlotte never worried for Melba’s support when she couldn’t make it out to Gordon Falls. Why, then, did she resist telling them—and Melba—how frightening being jobless was to her? End this wait, Lord, Charlotte finished her row of stitching as she sent a silent prayer for God’s favor over the dozen electronic résumés she’d sent out earlier this morning. Send me a job.

  “Charlotte, if you could have any job in the world, what would it be?” Jeannie, who filled a room with sunny-eyed optimism wherever she went despite a host of personal challenges, posed the question as she poured herself a second cup of coffee.

  “Oh, naturally, I’ve always thought about opening a yarn shop. I might do it someday, but I know enough to realize how much work it is.”

  Jeannie and Abby, both small business owners, nodded in agreement.

  “I’m still looking to work for someone, to let all the managerial headaches be on someone else’s plate for a while longer,” Charlotte added.

  She thought about Jesse. After they wrestled the bathtub free, she’d managed to get him to open up about his plans to launch his own business. He seemed pretty autonomous as it was, despite working for Mondale Construction, but was bursting with the urge to work for himself and call his own shots. She admired his ambition, but she could also see the dark edge of it. Jesse wanted success to show the world that he could do it, to prove himself worthy. From a few side comments he’d made, she suspected his father had a lot to do with that drive—and not in a good way. She was so fortunate to have Mom and Dad, who believed in her no matter what she did. When she owned her own business, it would be for all the right reasons. For now, it was enough that she owned her own cottage.

  Chapter Six

  “You’ve made quite an impression,” Charlotte’s cousin JJ announced when they ran into each other a few days later at Halverson’s Grocery. This was another small-town phenomenon that still startled Charlotte—a trip to the grocery store turned into a social event every time. She’d yet to fill her basket without running into six or seven people she knew—not to mention being introduced to half a dozen new “neighbors.” That certainly never happened at the city convenience mart.

  “Jesse’s account of your powerhouse sink demolition was the talk of the firehouse,” JJ went on, as the two of them wandered down the frozen-food aisle. “As if your first-day kitchen fire hadn’t endeared you to the guys already.”

  “I think I was hoping for less fanfare tied to my entrance into Gordon Falls,” Charlotte admitted. “The past few months have been a bit more dramatic than I’d like.”

  “Well, if you’re not into drama, you’ve hired the wrong guy. Jesse Sykes is as Hollywood as they come. You remember him singing at our wedding, don’t you?”

  Just the other afternoon she was upstairs measuring windows when Jesse either forgot she was home or didn’t care that she heard him. His voice echoed stunningly throughout the empty house, and she’d stopped to lean against the wall and just listen. Smooth as silk and soulful to boot. Mima would have declared Jesse to have “a set of pipes” and Charlotte had to agree. “He’s amusing, and he’s got a great voice, that’s for sure.”

  JJ’s voice softened. “He’s a great guy. A bit of a loose cannon sometimes, but a heart of gold.” She grinned. “Mostly.” When Charlotte narrowed one eye at her she added, “You could do worse.”

  She really didn’t want to get into this with JJ again. Her cousin knew her concerns about getting involved with a first responder without them arguing it out for the umpteenth time. Anyway, it felt wrong to tell one firefighter that you didn’t think you could do life alongside another firefighter. “Sure, he’s got personality. He’s not for me, though.”

  Was there anyone out there for her? She liked to think so, though she was getting frustrated waiting for him to show up. In any case, now wasn’t the time for a new relationship. Now should be about being her own person, stepping confidently—if not smoothly—into the future God had for her. Dating would just muck up her thinking and add to her anxiety. And really, the last thing she needed right
now was the prospect of any more rejection.

  “I thought you just said he was amusing.” JJ selected a bag of frozen peas and placed them in her cart.

  “Amusement is not the same thing as attraction.” That felt dishonest, because she did feel an attraction to Jesse. She just knew better than to act on it. “I’ll admit, we’re having a bit of fun with this renovation project, and I could sure use a bit of fun right now, but that’s all. Besides, from the little I heard, he’s got all kinds of family baggage and I don’t need anyone like that.”

  “Who’s got family baggage?” Melba and Maria came up the aisle, waving hello. Here we go again, a party in the frozen-food aisle. It had its fun side, but Charlotte fretted her days of throwing on sweats and a baseball hat to duck into the grocery store were over.

  “Sykes,” JJ replied.

  Melba sighed. “Everyone’s got family baggage of some kind.”

  “Maybe, but your family baggage is adorable.” JJ wiggled one of Maria’s irresistible tiny pink toes, making the baby girl giggle.

  “What would Mima have thought of Jesse?” JJ asked, surrendering the toe as, with the astounding flexibility of babies, Maria pulled it up to stuff it in her mouth. All three women laughed. Even though JJ and Max were Charlotte’s cousins on her father’s side, Mima left a big enough impression that both sides of Charlotte’s relatives knew and loved the woman. Max and JJ had come to Mima’s funeral, and not just because they wanted to support Charlotte and her parents.

  Mima’s opinion of Jesse—or what it would have been—was an interesting point to consider. Charlotte had to think for a moment, biding her time as she filled her own handbasket with a box of frozen breakfast sandwiches. “Hard to say. She’d like his sense of humor, but I doubt she’d have found him artistic enough.”

  “Your grandmother always was a pushover for the poetic types, judging from the way your grandfather won her over,” Melba offered, gently removing the toe from Maria’s drool-soaked mouth. “It’s got to be too early for teething, doesn’t it?”

  JJ and Charlotte shrugged. Charlotte noticed a new weariness in Melba’s voice and eyes.

  “I still think you should publish all those love letters as a book,” Melba went on. “Your grandfather was a heart slayer on the page in his day.” The new mother sighed. “Nobody does that sort of romantic stuff anymore.”

  Charlotte leaned over and tickled Maria. “Is my darling goddaughter cutting into Mommy’s love life?”

  Melba’s sigh turned into a yawn. “Right behind the firehouse. Between Clark’s days and Maria’s nights, I’m stretched to the limit. This parenting stuff is hard.”

  “The chief has been wound pretty tight these days, too,” JJ added.

  Charlotte eyed her friend. “When’s the last time you and Clark had an evening to yourselves?”

  Melba’s only response was a sad smile. “It’s worth it.”

  JJ put a hand on Melba’s sagging shoulder. “You two deserve to be off duty. No offense, but you look exhausted. And honestly I could use a less grumpy boss.”

  “That’s it, I’m babysitting.” Charlotte pulled out her smartphone to check her calendar. There was nothing like helping others to get her mind off her own problems. And she adored Maria. This should be a fun task. “When is the next night Clark has free?”

  Melba rolled her eyes. “Who knows?”

  “Clark does,” said JJ. “Text him right now and ask him.”

  “Right now?” Melba seemed more interested in the choice of green beans, and that was bad news in the romance department.

  Charlotte shut the freezer cabinet door in front of Melba’s face. “This instant. You’re outnumbered three to one.”

  “Three?”

  “Maria agrees with me.”

  Two minutes and a package of ground turkey later, Melba peered at her phone and declared, “Thursday night.”

  “Mission accomplished. Okay, ladies, I have to get going.” JJ’s face took on a glow. “Alex is heading out of town again, and I promised him one home-cooked meal before he gets on another plane.”

  Melba gazed after the lovestruck firefighter and then pushed out a breath as she deposited a box of biscuit mix into her cart. “I’m pretty sure Clark and I looked that smitten once.”

  “Exactly my point,” Charlotte replied. “I’m babysitting next Thursday night so you and Chief Bradens can have some time to rekindle your flame.”

  “I’m likely to fall asleep at the restaurant table,” Melba admitted. “I can’t remember the last time I sat down for a whole meal. They don’t call 5:00 p.m. ‘the fussing hour’ for nothing. By the time Clark pulls in the driveway I’m ready to take a hot bath and tell the world good-night. At least until Maria wakes up again.”

  The strain in her friend’s eyes tugged at Charlotte’s heart. Melba had been through so much since moving to Gordon Falls—the long, hard struggle to care for her father, his eventual death—she’d thanked God for sending Clark to Melba a million times over the past year. And now baby Maria added more joy to their lives, but they were both clearly tired. While Melba never complained, Charlotte knew being married to the fire chief wasn’t the easiest job in the world. Dad had been only a police captain, and it had taken a lot out of Mom. She touched Melba’s elbow. “You need this. Let me do this for you. It’s one night. Even if Maria screams the entire time, I can handle it.”

  * * *

  Jesse set down the nozzles he was cleaning a few days later and stared at Chief Bradens. “Really?”

  Chief nodded. “With your background, you never thought about taking the inspector’s training?”

  “Well, no.” Fire inspectors were career guys. The Gordon Falls department had only two paid employees, Chief Bradens himself and the fire inspector, Chad Owens. While some volunteer guys looked to shift to a paid professional post, Jesse never counted himself among them. As his father never missed a chance to point out, this job asked enough of him on a volunteer basis. He wasn’t eager to expand that. “Chad’s not retiring or anything, is he?”

  “Not that he’s told me. It’s just that I see the potential in you.”

  “I don’t know. Sounds like a whole lot of paper pushing to me.” Chad spent more time at a desk than on a truck, and Jesse knew enough of the Gordon Falls building codes to know they could tax a guy’s patience. “I’m allergic to administrative tasks.”

  The chief leaned up against the truck that sat parked behind where Jesse was working. “I thought you wanted to own your own business someday.”

  “I do.”

  “You’ll have to get over your allergic reaction to paperwork.”

  Jesse gave a grunt. “Mondale doesn’t do paperwork.”

  “That’s because his wife does his billing and filing. You planning to marry into an administrative family anytime soon?”

  Jesse tried to scowl, but his brain went straight to Charlotte’s thick, color-coded files of renovation ideas. “No.”

  Too late. Chief Bradens leaned in. “And what was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “That look.”

  “What look?” Jesse turned his attention to the box of nozzles, only to have the chief kick them out from under his grasp.

  “Melba tells me you’ve been spending a lot of time at Charlotte Taylor’s cottage.”

  Jesse knew the connection between Charlotte and the Bradens was going to tangle him up soon, but he hadn’t counted on it wrapping around him quite this fast. “It’s a big job. I’m glad for the work.”

  “Melba thinks you might be glad for the client.”

  How was he supposed to answer that? “She’s nice.”

  Clark leaned down to meet Jesse’s eyes. “She is. Charlotte is a great person. She’s Melba’s best friend and they’ve been through a lot together. She
’s Maria’s godmother.”

  “I know she’s a friend of yours. I’ve been trying to do right by her because of it. I told you that.”

  “And I appreciate it. I do. I just want to be sure you know to tread carefully here.”

  Jesse raised himself up from the box. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I’d want the department’s most confirmed bachelor not to stomp on the heart of my wife’s best friend. She’s in a vulnerable spot, and subtlety isn’t your strong suit.”

  Jesse chose his words carefully. “Is that a command to steer clear, Chief?” While Clark Bradens was a caring leader and Jesse considered him something of a mentor, he usually kept a clean line between personal and firehouse business.

  Bradens’s expression softened. “I can’t tell you how to spend your personal time. But I know you and I know Charlotte. I’m asking you, as a friend and as chief, to be careful. Charlotte doesn’t do halfway or casual—and I’ve never known you to do anything but. If you choose to go after her, I’d want to know you really mean it.”

  “Hey, no worries there. I’m not going after her.” She did intrigue him, but there were lots of reasons to leave that alone for now. Like Chief said, he needed to keep his relationships halfway and casual right now. Charlotte was a client. She was a bit too artsy for his taste. And then there was the subject of Sunday mornings. “I don’t think I spend enough time in church to be her type anyhow.”

  The chief’s expression made Jesse regret his choice of reply. “You can change that if you want. The congregation talent show is soon, and we’re still looking for an emcee.”

  That made Jesse laugh. “Me? Master of ceremonies at the GFCC talent night? Don’t you think that’s a bit ridiculous?”