Forged by Fire: A Small Town Second Chance Romance

by Cleveland, Eddie

  My chest swells with pride and I can’t stop this smile from kissing my lips.

  “Anyway, I should do some mingling”—Chris nods at me—“but think about it, okay? If you ever want the job, it’s yours.” He gives my arms a quick squeeze and slides off into the crowd.

  I’m still lost in a warm cloud of joy. Me, Karen Baker, once a junkyard Rapunzel is all grown up. For the first time I’m not being defined by my family name. For the first time people are seeing me for my own accomplishments.

  Karen Baker, artist. I like that. I like that a lot.

  33

  Luke

  Sitting behind the wheel of my car, I sullenly stare out my windshield over the edge of the cliff to our little town below. Compared to the last time I was up here, this is about as opposite of an experience as a person can have. Last time I was lost in a blaze of passion as Karen and I fucked on the hood of this car. Hell, even when we got busted, it was still invigorating. Like doing a polar bear dunk in the ocean on the first day of January, it made me feel alive.

  Now I’m sunken into the driver’s seat, feeling the pain people can only know when their lives and dreams crumble around them. I can’t believe she’s leaving for the East Coast tomorrow. How can she just walk away from what we have? I smash my fists into my steering wheel and yell at the empty sky. It seems like the radio is determined to play every sad song ever written tonight. Like some kind of depressing musical montage dedicated to losing the love of my life.

  I push my hands back on my head, threading my fingers through my hair, and sigh. Now what am I supposed to do? There’s no way Karen and I were supposed to rekindle our love only to watch it be snuffed out forever by some fancy job offer in New York, is there? When I lost my father, I learned better than anyone that life doesn’t always play fair, but this doesn’t just feel unfair. This is like life is playing dirty, kicking me in the balls when I was already down.

  A new song starts up and it physically hurts my heart. Less than a week ago, I was happy to throw caution and possibly my pride to the wind as I belted out these very lyrics to Karen. For a moment I listen to Ed Sheeran sing his hit song, “Perfect,” on my radio. The tears I’ve been struggling to keep at bay finally fall. I can’t hold them in anymore.

  Maybe Mother Nature has a soft spot for me, because the sky opens up and she starts crying too. Rain splatters over my windshield and thuds against my roof. I turn off the song, unable to listen for another second. All it’s doing is making me realize everything I’ve lost. What we had was perfect. Karen was perfect for me, and now she’s leaving.

  This time for good.

  I miss my father. This would’ve been a good time to get his advice. So many times since his death, I’ve realized how much I used to rely on my old man for guidance. I never knew just how much of my life he helped me figure out until he wasn’t here anymore. It forced me to grow from a boy to a man overnight. I couldn’t just let my mother crumble and let that gaping void Dad left in our lives destroy us.

  But like any kid still learning to be an adult, I made costly mistakes. I know I did the right thing by Mom to stay here when Dad passed, but who knows what my life would look like now if I hadn’t made that decision. Karen and I would probably be sharing a ridiculously small and outrageously overpriced apartment right now. And we’d probably love it.

  “It’s no person’s right on this earth to stand in the way of anyone’s dreams.”

  Some of the last words I ever heard come out of my father’s mouth echo in my ears. It’s what he said when I finally confessed that I planned to go with Karen to the Big Apple. I thought he would be angry or disappointed that I didn’t want to stay and follow in his footsteps with the fire department, but he wasn’t. He completely understood why I needed to go.

  Now look at me. Four years later and I’m only one rank away from the same one he held when he died. I’m barreling down the exact same path I told him I couldn’t take. Living in the same small town, I’m deputy chief of the same small fire department, and all it’s cost me is the love of my life.

  I stare down at Pine Grove. It’s a blur of light through my rain-soaked windshield. Even if the rain wasn’t falling, it would look the same through my tears anyway.

  “Why don’t you go with her?”

  I can hear his voice so clearly it startles me. I twist around in my seat, almost expecting to see him sitting beside me. Of course, he isn’t. It’s only in my mind.

  I think it over. Why am I letting her go? All this time I’ve wanted her to stay here with me, but why can’t I go out there with her? I sit up straight and mull over the details. Mom isn’t doing perfect, but she’s not the lost, grief-stricken widow she was then. She definitely doesn’t need me to help her navigate through the murky, black waters of loss like she did then.

  Why don’t I go?

  The more I try to come up with reasons I can’t, the more I realize that, really, nothing is stopping me. I might not have been passionate about firefighting back when Dad was alive, but I am now. But New York must have a ton of departments I can work at. Mom will be fine without me here. I mean, I couldn’t just up and leave tomorrow, but if I took off in a month, Pine Grove would be fine without me.

  The world would keep turning.

  And if I was with Karen, my heart would keep beating too. Not like this dull, endless ache, it radiates through me now.

  “I’m going to New York,” I whisper as the realization sweeps over me. “I’m fucking going to New York!” I yell, and a grin eats my face.

  I turn the keys in my ignition. I’ve got to go track down Karen. She’s supposed to be at the art show in town. I’ll surprise her with my good news. This is going to be amazing.

  Except my car won’t start. “Fuck!” I must have killed the battery by listening to the radio.

  Well, I can’t just sit here. I look out at the rain. It’s still dropping steadily in heavy streaks. “Oh well, suck it up, buttercup,” I chide myself, pulling up the hood on my jacket. I don’t care if it’s raining or that my car crapped out on me or anything else. All I care about is Karen. I slam the door shut behind me and my feet grind against the muddy rocks as I run down the hill in the downpour.

  It’s dark, but I keep running.

  The rain is cold, but I keep running.

  My lungs burn in my chest, but I keep running.

  I run down toward Pine Grove. Down to Karen. And I won’t stop until I find her.

  34

  Karen

  Is this my third glass of champagne? Or fourth? I giggle as the tiny bubbles tickle my nose. Whatever number it is, it should probably be my last. I laugh along with the small crowd surrounding Chris at the joke he told. It’s strange to look around at the artists and cool kids I grew up admiring and realizing that I’m one of them now. I’ve seamlessly been stitched into their group, like I’ve always been a part of the tightly woven fabric that makes up the artist community here.

  I remember when I still lived here how bleak and confining this town felt. Even though I knew there were artists and creative souls in Pine Grove, they never seemed like a community to me. This street didn’t have even half the businesses that line this street now. There was only a liquor store, a gas station, a bakery, and a grocery store. Everything else was fancy and frivolous according to the farmers and old families who ran things around here.

  Now King Street radiates with a vibrant buzz of hopeful, young business owners who see what a gem this place really is. Maybe it didn’t exist before, or maybe I had to leave to see it. When your house is bombarded by trash, both inside and out, it’s hard to see that everything isn’t stained with the same filth. But the village was never the problem. My family is the problem.

  I look through the oversized windows out onto the dark street. It’s raining outside, and the streetlights are reflecting off the puddles forming on the ground. I wish and pray and hope, but it doesn’t change the fact there are no headlights bouncing off the slick roads out there. Luk
e isn’t coming to see me tonight. He probably hates me.

  The crowd disperses to examine the haunting paintings. I start to shuffle off to do the same when Chris walks up to me with a tall, lean man with warm nutmeg skin and chocolate brown eyes. “Hey, just a sec, Karen. I want to introduce you to someone,” he calls out and I stop.

  “Sure.” I smile.

  “So, Karen Baker, this is Darryl Jackson,” he formally introduces us. We shake hands and I can’t place where, but I know I’ve seen this guy before. “Darryl owns the yoga studio down the street.”

  “Ahhh, that’s where I know you from!” I nod.

  “Oh, I don’t think I’ve seen you in the studio, have I?” His black eyebrows knit together.

  “No, I just walked by one day and saw you, um, conducting a class.” I leave out the part where I spied Mildred shaking her booty at him like a cat in heat.

  “Oh, okay.” His smile is so inviting and sweet. I can see what Mildred likes about him. Who am I kidding? Knowing that woman it’s not his smile she’s staring at. His long, tight muscles? Yes. His tight, V-shaped frame? You betcha. The way his yoga pants rest against his package? Most definitely.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I smile.

  “Yeah, Chris was telling me you’re going to remodel his art studio. He said you were giving him a fantastic deal too.” Darryl looks hopeful.

  I look over at Chris and he shrugs comically. “Oh, did he?” I tilt my head.

  “Yeah, and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind stopping by the studio to give me a quote? I’ve been wanting to revamp the space to make it more peaceful and airy, you know? But I don’t think there’s anyone around here who does that kind of work and I knew I couldn’t take on those kinds of renovations myself,” he explains, “so I’d love to hear what you think that would look like.”

  “Umm.” I pause. I have no idea what to say. My brain is nagging me to tell him that I’m leaving tomorrow, but my heart is whispering to stay and check out the studio. “Well, do you have a card or any—”

  “Karen!” A deep voice booms across the room.

  Everyone in here turns toward the door Luke just burst in through. He’s drenched to the bone. Water is running down his face. His hair is flattened against his head. His clothes are dripping a puddle on the floor.

  “What the hell?” Chris whispers.

  Other people murmur around us, but I don’t care. I never thought I’d see Luke again. Not after how angry he was with me. I’m frozen to the spot, my entire focus transfixed to only him. “Yes?” My voice is soft as a summer breeze.

  “Listen to me”—he trudges in, leaving little slicks of water on the floor with each step—“I told you before that I won’t stand in the way of your dreams. I’m not here to take anything away from you, I never was. But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna watch you get on that plane tomorrow and fly out of my life for the last time. The last time I lost you for four years I’ll never get back. This time could be forever.”

  “No, Luke, it’s okay.” I hold up my hands, trying to interrupt him, but he steamrolls over my words.

  “No, let me finish.” He shrugs off my protest. “All this time, I wanted you to stay here with me. I got so stuck on that idea that I couldn’t see the simple solution in front of my face this whole time. I’m coming with you, Karen. I don’t have to lose you, to lose this love. Because I can’t take another heartbreak, babe. I love you so much. I need you. So, I’m going to start again in New York. With you.”

  “Wow,” I hear someone whisper and a ripple of quiet murmuring rushes through the crowd.

  “No, Luke, you’re not coming with me,” I answer quietly.

  Gasps and sniffles surround me, almost drowning me out. I ignore them. I ignore the opinions and the crowd. I close the space between Luke and me, never taking my eyes from his. “You’re not coming with me to New York because I’m not going there tomorrow. I changed my mind. I’m staying here, with you.”

  I can hear the chorus of “awwws” and a few people clapping as Luke sweeps me up in his arms and kisses me deep. Water wicks up into my dress, but I don’t care. None of that is important. The only thing that matters is us. Together. Forever.

  “I’m putting this in my next novel.” Mildred wipes her eyes with a napkin and I can’t help but chuckle. I can’t say I blame her. Luke and I have the kind of love that most people dream about. And now, I’m finally going to live my dreams.

  Epilogue

  Karen

  “Rise and shine.” Luke gives my shoulder a gentle shake.

  I groan and slowly lift one heavy eyelid, peering out into the land of the living. “It can’t be time to get up already.” My voice creaks like a bullfrog.

  “You’re right. It’s not time to get up.”

  “Good.” I roll over, squeezing out the morning sun as I close my eyes.

  “It’s later than that. The alarm went off a half hour ago.”

  “What?” I jolt up in bed and grab my phone from the end table. “Crap, why did you let me sleep in?”

  Throwing the blankets back, a million spinning thoughts race in my brain. I was going to wear my cute chevron dress today, but I don’t have time to braid my hair and do a full face of makeup. It’ll have to be a messy bun and my skinny jeans with my knee-high boots and my plaid shirt instead.

  “Relax. You still have plenty of time,” he smiles.

  “No, I don’t. You know I can’t function without coffee. And I don’t have time to eat.” I start stressing.

  “Good thing you’ve got a handsome man with a plan who’s got you covered then.” He holds up a vanilla latte and brown paper bag. “I’ve got the breakfast of champions right here, the muffin you love and your favorite drink. Well, let’s be honest, your favorite non-alcoholic drink.” He winks.

  “Oh, that’s so sweet.” I clasp the steaming, warm cup in my hands and inhale the delicious mix of spices and vanilla. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I figured you could use the sleep. I know you’ve been burning the candle with all the work you’re putting in on Lentz’s gallery.

  He’s right. This is my first time heading an interior design job and I’m working myself hard to get it right. Every single detail needs to be my very best.

  The latte stirs my senses, giving me the warm, comforting shot of caffeine I need to face the busy day ahead. Luke eases down on the edge of the bed beside me. It’s impossible to look away from him. My eyes graze the morning scruff on his jaw and travel over his face to his blue eyes. I see a familiar glint shining in them that I try to ignore. I force myself to look away because when he gives me that look, I become putty.

  “What?” His tone is all innocent and sweet, but he knows perfectly well what.

  “I want to, babe.” The shiver of desire trembles through me, weakening my resolve. “But I can’t be late for this job. I’ll ruin my reputation in this town if I start showing up whenever I feel like it.”

  “Here’s the thing,” his voice rumbles, “Lentz isn’t expecting you this morning.”

  “Wait a minute, why not?” That frantic panic begins to rise up in me again. I don’t want to get blacklisted around here as unreliable. People don’t hire flakes. And it’s important to me to make this work.

  “Because,” I notice the tension in his voice for the first time, “I called him and explained you needed a few hours today.

  “I don’t understand.” I search his face for an answer, but he’s playing his cards close to his chest.

  “You will.” Luke gives me a half-cocked smile. “Eat your muffin, it was the last orange cranberry one in Naomi’s bakery.

  I’m so happy Naomi’s place is fixed up and back open to the public. Not just because of my muffin obsession, I mean, that’s a small part of it, sure. The bigger part is that she’s woven into the fabric of this town now and I know I wasn’t alone in feeling like there was no way we were going to let some arsonist coward tear a hole in that fabric.

  It
sucks that the entire town thinks my brother is the one who started that fire. Part of me wants to defend him. I mean, he’s awful at the best of times, but an arsonist? I don’t want to believe it. I guess time will tell since a special investigator has been called in from the city. In the meantime, I just hope Todd stops blowing up all the time and making himself look like not only the prime suspect but also the biggest asshole in Pine Grove.

  I open the rolled up bag and pull out my muffin. All of my worries about my family and fires disappear when an unexpected sparkle gleams from the top and I gasp, dropping it in my lap with surprise. My hands both fly up to cover the squeal coming out of my mouth, “Oh my! Really?”

  Luke slides off the edge of the bed, and down onto one knee. He plucks the muffin free from my lap and holds it up to me like an open jewelry box. Topping my favorite treat is a modest but beautiful diamond ring.

  “Really. Karen, I met you when we were both small children and I’ve spent every day of my life loving you ever since. The only regret I have in this life is the time I didn’t have with you when you went to school. When you were gone, that heartbreak made me understand how deeply I love you.”

  Tears line my eyes. I spent those years feeling that same ache for him. I can’t count the lonely nights that I cried into my pillow, trying to muffle the undying longing I had to just feel his arms around me.

  “I love you too,” I whisper, my voice full of the swirling emotions inside me.

  “And, I knew that, if I ever had a chance to make this right again, I would do everything in my power to make sure I never knew what it felt like to miss you again. I could spend every single day with you until I die, and on my deathbed, I’d be praying for more time. For just one more day. I know the pain of long days without you, and I hope that you’ll let me put this ring on your finger and promise me that we’ll never feel that pain again. That we’ll spend the rest of our days as happy and in love as we’ve been our entire lives. Karen Baker, will you be my wife?” Luke draws in a jagged breath and searches my eyes.