“I do,” she said, shooing him toward the door. “But I really need that coffee if I’m going to dive into this list you gave me.”
“Be right back.”
Needing him to take his time so she could at least uncover her desk and get started on the schedule, she asked, “Would you see if Mary’s got any fresh strawberries and Greek yogurt?”
He paused in the doorway and looked over his shoulder at her. “You still hungry?”
“No,” she laughed. “I’m planning to work through lunch and can if you don’t mind stopping at Murphy’s Market for me.”
He smiled. “You’re a trouper, Gracie.”
“Wait until I get the schedule going for you before you say that,” she warned.
He waved and was gone.
Alone, she looked around her, wondering how things could go from streamlined and organized to disaster so quickly. Well, she thought, not that quickly. It had been a few months since she’d been inside the shop.
“The shop!” Scooting around the boxes, she opened the door to the back and sighed in relief. “At least the supplies in the back are organized.” Laughing to herself, she realized her sisters wouldn’t care about the office side of things, but mess with their carpentry and plumbing supplies and you’d be in trouble.
Bracing herself, she walked back into the office, wondering if maybe it was just her initial reaction and maybe it wasn’t that bad. “Holy crap!” It was.
Grace started by going to the closet and pulling out the folding table she kept for year-end file-sorting purposes. “I doubt anyone’s used this since me.” With a huge sigh, she leaned it against the front of her desk and went in search of paper towels to get rid of the dust on it.
Satisfied that it was clean, she set it up and started shifting the stacks of files off the top of her desk. Heading back to the supply closet, she pulled out the multisurface spray cleaner and shook it. “Still full.” With a glance around the office, she knew why. “Guess I’m the only one who cared about the office.”
Shaking her head, she got to work, cleaning and straightening until she had the piles of files looking organized. Although her hands itched with the need to sort through them, she left them for now. She had a clean place to get started on that schedule.
She fired the computer up and saw the antivirus warning. With a huge sigh, she picked up her cell phone and texted her dad: I need my laptop—office computer’s a disaster.
He texted her back right away: Got coffee and your lunch. Be right there.
Ignoring the computer, she spread the list out and started organizing the schedule the old-fashioned way—with paper and pen.
Her dad walked in a few minutes later. She looked up at him and saw the surprise on his face. “You were busy while I was gone.”
She agreed. “The office computer is in desperate need of a defragging—”
“Hold it right there,” he warned. “You know I have no idea what you’re talking about. Where’s your laptop?”
“In my bedroom.” His slow smile had her realizing how much she missed being home. “Don’t get any ideas, Pop—it’s just habit calling it my room.”
He lifted his coffee in toast to her, and in his best Schwarzenegger imitation said, “I’ll be back.”
She was laughing as she cross-checked her new list with the chicken scratch that passed for her father’s list. “We’re going to need to call for reinforcements to get to these customers.”
Taking matters in her own hands—after all, her father had just reminded her that he was retired—she hit the speed dial for Meg.
“Hey, Sis,” she said when Meg answered. “We’ve got a problem and I think I have the answer.”
“Where are you?” Meg asked.
“The office.”
There was a slight pause before her sister said, “I can explain—”
“I saw the shop too,” Grace told her, “and know where you and Cait have spent any spare time when you’re not on repair calls. I understand.”
“You’re not mad?”
“I was the one who left,” Grace told her. “But that’s not why I’m calling. We’ve got a big list of repair calls—”
“You fixed the computer?”
Grace snorted. “I’m not sure I can resurrect your database. I sent Pop home to get my laptop. I’ve got the templates saved on it and on memory sticks—but I’m not plugging them into the disaster that passes for your office computer.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve got a working list, and from the number of requests, we’ll need someone to give you and Cait a hand.”
“We’re working as fast as we can,” Meg began.
“I know. That’s not what this is about and you should realize that.”
“OK,” Meg said. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’m here for the next two weeks and will straighten things out in the office, but I think we should ask Charlie Doyle and Tommy Hawkins if they want to work for us again this summer.”
“They know how to patch a roof, change out broken hardware, hang a door—”
“That’s perfect,” Grace said. “Do you think they’d do it if you asked them?”
“Yeah,” Meg said. “I’ll call them now.”
“Great,” Grace said. “Gotta call Cait next.”
“Grace?” Meg said.
Her mind was already on what she wanted to say to her other sister. “Hmmm?”
“Thank you. This means a lot to us.”
Grace felt her throat tighten. “It’s the least I can do,” she said. “We’re family. Gotta call Cait, bye!”
“Bye.”
The phone call to Cait met with the same enthusiasm and thanks, leaving Grace to wonder why neither of her sisters bothered to call her when they knew they were desperate for her help. But she didn’t have time to think; she had work to do.
The list was finalized and summer help lined up by the time her father came back.
“Hey, Pop, I’ve got good news.”
He handed her the laptop and waited.
“I’ve got the list and talked to Meg and Cait. They’ve agreed to hire—”
“Anybody home?” The deep voice had Grace looking toward the door.
“Come in, guys,” she said. “I was just about to tell Pop about you two.”
Charlie and Tommy walked in.
“When Meg called, it was like a dream come true,” Charlie told them.
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “We’ve always wanted to work for Mulcahys.”
Her father shook their outstretched hands. “Welcome aboard, boys.”
“Pop,” Grace admonished. “They’re not boys anymore.”
He grunted. “To me they are—they’re younger than you!”
She smiled. “I’m glad you came so quickly. We have two calls that I need you to handle right away.”
After sending Charlie and Tommy on their way, the rest of the day was spent sorting and filing while the desktop ran through the cleanup programs Grace initiated.
Lunchtime came and went, and it wasn’t until she noticed the ache in her empty stomach that she stopped to eat the fruit and yogurt her dad had brought her earlier.
The phone hadn’t stopped ringing with calls to welcome her back interspersed with service calls. Grace’s geeky side was delighted down to her toes to be able to add their names and repair requests to her color-coded spreadsheet.
With a sigh, she got up to stretch the kink between her shoulder blades. Satisfaction filled her as she glanced around the room. She’d made a good-sized dent in the work that needed to be done. Granted, there was still a ton of work to do—probably more than she’d have time to do in the two weeks she’d be in Apple Grove—but the most important tasks had been checked off her list: organizing and prioritizing the repair schedule and hiring help.
When her cell phone rang, she answered it without looking at the screen. “Hello?”
“Hey, gorgeous.” Patrick’s deep voice sent a shiver up
her spine and sparks of awareness to the tips of her fingers.
“Hey yourself.”
“Just got back from a call and had five minutes to myself and all I could think of was hearing the sound of your voice.”
She was toast. “I could use a break,” she told him.
“Been busy?”
“Actually, I have. My dad asked me to help out at the shop—it looked like a bomb went off inside here.”
“But not now?” He sounded as tired as she felt.
“Nope, I got a handle on things, but I’ll have my work cut out for me while I’m here.”
“You sound pleased with yourself.”
She laughed. “Wait until you see the before and after pics I took.”
He chuckled. “What time can you get here?”
“When do you get off shift?”
“At six o’clock, but there’s some cleanup that I have to do before I leave tonight.”
She didn’t want him to think she was desperate, so she asked, “Do you want me to wait until you get home before I head out?”
Patrick’s answer surprised her. “I can’t wait to get my hands—er, see you.”
She chuckled. “Should I bring food?”
“I haven’t even thought about what’s in my fridge,” he confided. “With Mike out on the injured list, I haven’t had time to think about what I’ll feed you when you get here.”
“Tell you what,” Grace said. “I’ll bring dinner with me and you can pour the wine while you tell me how your day was.”
“Sounds amazing.” There was a brief pause before he said, “I can’t wait to be with you again, Grace, but I’m dead on my feet.”
Feeling bold, she suggested, “Maybe I should stay over—and drive back in the morning.”
“Pretty, smart, and a mind reader,” Patrick quipped. “What are you bringing to feed me?”
“Something easy,” she warned, “so don’t expect anything gourmet after the full day I’ve put in here at the office.”
“I’m an easy man to please,” he rumbled, sending pinpricks of awareness to some very intimate places.
She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth. “I’ll need directions.”
He gave them to her and then said, “Oh, and don’t worry, I stopped at the pharmacy on my way home last night.”
“I, uh—” Grace’s mind went on a side trip to last night’s lovemaking. “Good.”
His laughter was just this side of wicked as he told her good-bye and disconnected.
She was still staring at her phone when her father walked back in the shop.
“Wow!” His face lit up like a kid at Christmas as his gaze swept the room. Grace realized that for this reason alone, she’d nearly killed herself today straightening up and getting their database up and running. She couldn’t handle looking at the lost and overwhelmed expression he’d had on his face that morning again.
“It’s better,” she said, glancing around her. “Isn’t it?”
He cleared his throat. “Thanks, baby girl.”
She blinked back the moisture in her eyes and smiled back at him.
“Had a couple of calls from Charlie and Tommy earlier.” As quickly as that, he was back to business.
“Oh? I didn’t realize they would be calling you.” She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Not a problem. They needed some quick advice and knew that Meg and Cait had their hands full at their repair calls.”
She could tell there was something else on his mind, so she waited him out while she powered down her laptop and the desktop.
He finally admitted, “I should have hired help long before now.”
She walked over to put her arms around him. “It’s gonna work, Pop,” she told him. She realized how big a step this was for him, to have someone other than a Mulcahy going out to fix what was broken in Apple Grove. “We’re still on the job,” she reassured him. “The fact that you’re training two of Apple Grove’s own, trusting them to uphold our family tradition and name, will mean so much more to the town—and Charlie and Tommy—than I think you know.”
He hugged her tight before releasing her. “Funny thing,” he told her. “Mary said the same thing about an hour ago when I stopped in to complain.”
Grace laughed. “I love you, Pop.”
“I love you back, baby girl.” He hesitated before adding, “I, uh, have plans for dinner.”
Grace giggled. “Me too. Patrick’s expecting me to feed him.”
Without missing a beat, he said, “I worry about you driving back home after such a long day. Those roads are dark. Will Patrick let you stay over?”
Grace’s mouth hung open a heartbeat before closing. “Who are you and what did you do with my father?”
Joe’s laughter was rich and deep. “A man can change, you know.”
She could hardly wrap her brain around the two major changes Joe Mulcahy had endured today: hiring outsiders to work for the family and his all but pushing her to spend the night with Patrick.
She finally found her voice. “Change is good for us, Pop.”
“Amen to that. Mary’s fixing to close. Do you need anything from the market?”
“I haven’t had time to figure it out yet.” What could she feed a tired, hungry firefighter that would fill the hole in his belly and knock his taste buds for a loop?
“Maybe I could make Grandma’s cheddar cheese fondue? It’s quick, tasty, and not what he’ll be expecting.”
Her father laughed. “Better bring some burgers for backup.”
“You’re right. Let me get my purse.”
“I’ll meet you across the street and have Mary start setting aside what you need.”
“You remember what’s in it?”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “Cheddar cheese!”
Grace was smiling while she finished packing up and headed for the door. “Men.”
***
“Are you going to talk to her about today?” Mike asked as Pat eased back against the kitchen chair.
The firehouse kitchen was empty, save for the two of them. “No. We’ve only just started seeing each other. I don’t want to scare her away.”
“Even if I have my doubts about her, she might surprise you,” Mike told him. “Didn’t you always say that you wished you’d met Meg before Dan did?”
Patrick shrugged and pushed to his feet. “Hey, our job’s a tough one. Sometimes there’s good things that we can’t wait to tell people about, and then…” His voice trailed off. It had been rough arriving at the scene of an accident too late to do anything to help the senior citizen who’d had a heart attack and driven into a telephone pole.
Mike groaned when he stood up, calling Patrick’s attention back to him. “You shouldn’t be standing on that knee yet.”
His friend grinned. “It’s not as bad as we thought yesterday. The swelling’s down. Besides, I got a special dispensation if I showed up for work today.”
Patrick shook his head. “We need you one hundred percent, my friend. That won’t happen if you don’t let that knee heal.”
“You sound like my mother,” Mike grumbled.
“Yeah?” Patrick asked. “I like your mom.” He finished straightening up the kitchen from the late lunch the guys had just finished because of that last emergency call.
Mike loaded the last of the dishes into the dishwasher and shut the door. “I hope the rest of our shift is quiet.”
Pat was about to agree when the alarm sounded. His friend shrugged while Pat ran down the hall, toward the lockers. “Suit up, Garahan,” his lieutenant ordered.
“What do we have?” He stepped into his pants and tugged the suspenders up, shrugging into his turnout gear.
“Duplex fire—over on Kennedy.”
Patrick’s gut clenched, but he showed no emotion on the outside; he’d trained himself to do the job at all costs—and keep the memories bundled tight inside him, praying this next fire wouldn’t leave him raw and bleeding as the memory
of that night threatened to rip free.
Focused on the job, he was ready when they arrived at the burning building and did what he did so well—walked straight into hell.
Chapter 15
Grace pulled into the lot right behind him. “Hey!” She waved and got out of her car. “I thought you were going to be late?”
He dragged his sorry butt out of his truck, digging deep past the body aches and soul-deep tiredness. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” He walked over to her car, tugged on her hand, and twirled her into his arms.
“Mmmm,” he murmured, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent he was coming to crave. “Are you supper?”
She chuckled and stroked a hand up and down his back as if she sensed he needed soothing. “Rough day?”
He eased back and captured her lips in a kiss that wouldn’t satisfy the need churning inside him but would have to do until he could get her inside. “Yeah. Can we talk later? I’m starved.”
She reached into her backseat and pulled out an overstuffed grocery bag. “I’ve got just the cure.”
“Hell, we don’t need groceries for that.”
She closed the car door and frowned up at him. “I’m hungry too, so everything else will just have to wait.”
His groan had her shaking her head at him. “Why don’t you take a nice hot shower while I make dinner?”
“Already took one at the firehouse—do I smell like smoke?”
She leaned close and gave an exaggerated sniff. “No. I thought it might help relax your sore muscles.”
“Mind reader, eh?” He led the way upstairs, unlocking the door to his apartment. Holding the door open for her, he said, “Come on in.”
The sun was bright in his kitchen, his favorite room. “What kind of pots and pans do you need?”
She set her bag in the middle of the table and started to unpack it. “Do you have a double boiler?”
He opened his cabinets, knowing he had the top of one somewhere; he used the bottom pan all the time. “Here it is.” He handed it to her and watched as she filled the bottom with hot tap water, before going back to the cabinet to find the top pan for the double boiler.
“It’ll heat up faster than using cold water.” She hummed as she took out two blocks of cheddar cheese, a can of crushed tomatoes, some garlic, basil, Italian bread, butter, and a bottle of red wine.
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