Love Inspired June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: The Cowboy's HomecomingThe Amish Widow's SecretSafe in the Fireman's Arms

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “I just had a tip.”

  “Can you hang on a second?” The phone clattered to the ground as Jake jumped to move a glass of water out of the cat’s path of destruction. It had nearly tipped over on one of Mack’s books.

  “What kind of tip?” He asked as he picked the receiver back up.

  “Anonymous.”

  Anonymous tip, huh? Paradise was fifteen miles of jurisdiction with approximately seventeen hundred citizens, give or take, in the winter and a transient summer population of another five hundred. Somehow it still managed to be a community more tightly knit than your grandmother’s shawl. Nothing much in Paradise could be done anonymously.

  He’d be willing to bet a month of chocolate-chip cookies, even cinnamon raisin oatmeal, which citizen was behind this so-called anonymous tip.

  “There’s something going on down on Mulberry Lane.”

  “Mulberry Lane?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where Maggie lives?” His voice rose an octave.

  He tried to listen to Bitsy’s response as he dove for a coffee mug before the cat pounced.

  “Will you cut that out?”

  “Jake MacLaughlin, do not take that tone with me,” Bitsy snapped back.

  “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the cat.”

  “You don’t have a cat.”

  “You’re right,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s Maggie’s cat.”

  “Maggie’s? Maggie doesn’t have a cat, either.”

  “She does now.” Jake cleared his throat. “Could you please update me on the situation on Mulberry Lane?”

  “I didn’t say there was a situation. The report was that there is a ruckus.”

  “Ruckus?”

  “Correct. I thought you might want to check things out.”

  “Ruckus falls under Sam’s jurisdiction. Not mine. I am the fire marshal.”

  “Ed is on duty and he isn’t answering.”

  “Did you try Sam’s cell phone?”

  “I thought you might do that.”

  “Me? He’s your boss.”

  “Fine. Forget it.”

  “Wait a minute. Wait just a doggone minute,” Jake said, holding a tight rein on a short fuse. “I’ll call Sam, then I’ll go out to Mulberry Lane, on your anonymous tip and evaluate for a code violation as the fire marshal. But you, the sheriff and I will be discussing protocol come Monday morning, Ms. Harmony.”

  “That would be fine, Chief.” The phone clicked in his ear.

  Jake hung up and shook his head. What was going on? More importantly, what was Bitsy up to this time?

  A ruckus out at Maggie’s.

  What kind of trouble was she into now?

  Jake prayed none of it involved matches or an open flame.

  He took his good old time getting ready. No need to rush just because Bitsy said so.

  Jake drove like a tourist and slowed down even more once he turned onto Maggie’s street. He stopped the truck in the middle of the road and simply stared in astonishment.

  Bumper-to-bumper automobiles lined the road for a quarter of a mile and filled the long driveway up to Maggie’s cottage. At rough count there were at least thirty vehicles. The area looked like a used-car dealership during a fire sale. People were coming and going everywhere.

  Jake had the fire-marshal truck and the kitten was in a carrier in the backseat.

  Glancing over his shoulder he noted the feline had finally run out of energy. Curled into a tight ball, she snoozed on top of an olive-drab wool blanket, a paw over her eyes as though to block out the world.

  He could relate. There were times he felt exactly the same way. Like right now.

  Backing the car down the road after an unsuccessful attempt to find a place to park, he pulled into his father’s driveway and rolled down the windows halfway for the benefit of Maggie’s new cat. He would walk from there.

  First he took a quick look at his father’s house. The damage was extensive. Once again it hit home how the Lord had His hand on both Mack and Maggie that night.

  He started a slow walk up the street to Maggie’s, counting the number of code violations as he went. Double parked. Parked in front of a fire hydrant. Blocking driveways. Cars parked on lawns without authorization.

  No way, no how could the Paradise Volunteer Fire Department get through this mess.

  Clearly a fire hazard.

  Hands in his pockets Jake strolled up to the front door. Glancing up, he inspected the heavy dark clouds, thankful the rain had eased for the time being.

  Through the door he could see the entire population of Paradise squeezed into the little house. The noise level confirmed his speculation. When his light knock failed to attract anyone’s attention, Jake opened the screen and stepped right in. Edging past several members of the auxiliary who were chatting in the front hall, he noted Maggie’s office door was closed, so he aimed for the general direction of the kitchen, squeezing past people as he inched forward. The living room table where Maggie worked on her projects was covered with a bright tablecloth and more food than even this party would be able to consume.

  Paradise’s deputy greeted him from his position guarding the desserts.

  “Nice party, huh?” Ed commented. He was in uniform, a glass of lemonade in one hand and two brownies in the other.

  Jake stared in surprise. “Ed, I thought you were on duty, doing the Friday-night Breathalyzer bust.”

  Ed’s face flamed red and he quickly chewed and swallowed. “I am. But, hey, I did a little traffic control downtown earlier. Even busted Junior Lawrence for jaywalking. Now I’m on my dinner break.”

  “How long has this party been going on?” Jake asked.

  “Started a few hours ago. You missed the first wave of folks.”

  “Did I? That’s too bad.” Jake frowned. “Where’s your patrol car?”

  “Off the road, so I don’t get blocked in.” Ed took another healthy bite of brownie and eyed the table for his next course.

  “Interesting parking configuration out there,” Jake commented. “What was your plan if we needed to get an emergency vehicle down the lane?”

  The lanky deputy squirmed. “I’m working on that, Jake. Give me a chance, would you?”

  “Just how long have you been here, Ed?”

  Ed glanced at his watch. “Not real long. Glad Bitsy got a hold of you. I told her I’d call you, but she said she’d rather invite you herself.”

  Jake nodded. His baloney radar was going off and registering well over the legal limit right now. So this was how Bitsy invited him to a party?

  From behind someone gently took his arm, tugging him into the kitchen. Susan.

  “Stop harassing Ed. He’s only following orders.”

  “Orders? Whose orders?”

  “Bitsy’s and mine,” Betty Jones said as she stood at the stove.

  Jake snorted.

  “Stew or mystery casserole?” Susan asked, wielding a spatula in front of his face

  “I recommend the stew, Jacob,” Mack said.

  “Dad. I see you’re having fun.” His father leaned against the counter in Maggie’s kitchen.

  “Oh, sure. I love a good party. I’m celebrating tonight.”

  “Celebrating being alive?” Jake questioned his father.

  Mack’s face lit up. He pulled Bitsy close and kissed her on the cheek. “That, too, but I asked Bitsy to marry me and she said yes.”

  “Whoa, Dad. That’s great.” Jake did his best to not show how stunned he really was. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks, son.”

  He stood and shook his father’s hand, and then turned and stared at Bitsy for a moment before embracing her in an awkward hug.

  “You look pretty happy, too,” Jake said to Susan.

  “I just love happy endings,” Susan said. “Besides, that means more business for my shop. I’m thinking of expanding to wedding planning.”

  Betty placed a large, steaming bowl of stew
and a side dish of fresh biscuits on the table.

  “Is that for me?”

  Jake turned. “Duffy?”

  “Chief, you made it.” Duffy slid into a chair at the table and pulled the bowl close. “I got here early so I wouldn’t miss the first round of the buffet. I thought for sure you were going to be a no-show. You’re not much of a party person these days, are you?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I, and who told you I’m not a party person?” he asked.

  “Everyone knows that, Chief.” Duffy slowly broke a biscuit in half and reached for the butter. “Looks like you’re in your element, Mrs. Jones,” Duffy said, admiring the meal. “You know, serving an army makes your cheeks glow.”

  “Oh, stop that sweet talk, you’ll get your pick of dessert without it.”

  Duffy grinned.

  The mayor of Paradise popped his head into the room. “Chief. Glad you finally made it to the party.”

  “I’m here in an official capacity, Mayor.”

  The mayor blustered and adjusted the collar of his shirt. “Why, so am I. I had to thank our newest citizen for her act of bravery. In fact, the town council has suggested naming her citizen of the year. We’ll put a picture of her up on a billboard. Right next to mine.”

  “Oh, Maggie will love that,” Jake mumbled. “Where is she anyhow?”

  Bitsy opened the oven and checked a casserole inside. “Maggie is in her office with a reporter from the Paradise Gazette.”

  “What’s going on?” Jake asked.

  “He’s been here for an hour or two getting an interview for a big article that will be in the Sunday Denver Chronicle as well as the Gazette. Even brought a photographer and all.” She deposited a stack of dirty plates into the sink and turned on the water.

  “I thought Maggie was allergic to newspapers.”

  “Ask her,” Bitsy said.

  The back door of the kitchen opened and Beck Hollander stepped inside.

  “Beck?” Jake said.

  Bitsy turned around. “I invited Beck. He’s spoken to Maggie already. We set up a meeting to discuss the summer fire-safety day. Beck will be going door-to-door for us per your instructions. In fact, he’s promised to work for the auxiliary until school starts. Whatever we need him to do. Right, Beck?”

  Beck mumbled and stared at his sneakers.

  “Excuse me, son?” She nudged him along.

  “Yes, Ms. Harmony.”

  “Isn’t that nice?” Bitsy asked.

  “If you run out of things for Beck to do, send him over to the firehouse.”

  “I’ll do that, Jake.” Bitsy winked at Jake and grinned, pleased with herself.

  Sam Lawson wedged his way into the kitchen.

  He glanced from Duffy to Jake and then to the stew. “I thought you said there was a ruckus here. Looks like a party to me. But that can’t be. You don’t do parties, do you, Jake?”

  ”Who started that rumor?” Jake muttered.

  “A ruckus?” Betty Jones asked.

  “I don’t see any ruckus here,” Mack chimed in.

  “I’m not sure,” Sam said. “Maybe that wasn’t what Jake said that Bitsy said. It was third-party information, which is highly unreliable to start with. It’s entirely possible that I might have gotten everything wrong.”

  Bitsy turned to Jake. “I was simply giving him the report.”

  “Whose report?” Jake asked.

  “I told you it was called in anonymously.”

  Jake’s gaze pinned Bitsy. “You could have just asked me to come over.”

  “Already tried that.” Her expression clearly said he should have been there a week ago.

  “I’ll have you know that I planned to come out tonight. In fact I brought Maggie something,” Jake said.

  “Oh?”

  “It’s in the truck.”

  Bitsy gave a half smile as she assessed him. “I’m sorry, Jake,” she said. “Then I guess I underestimated you.”

  “Happens often enough around here,” he mumbled.

  “Ready to eat?” Sam asked.

  Jake looked to Sam. “Yeah, let’s grab a plate. I’m not seeing any ruckus and if I close my eyes, I don’t even see any code violations.”

  Sam grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that. Ed called me and told me that he’d saved me a brownie.”

  The door to Maggie’s office opened, and all heads turned. The reporter stood back as Maggie walked out.

  Maggie never looked so lovely. There was still a small bandage on her temple and she sported a shiner that covered most of the area around her right eye, as Jake had predicted. Her hair floated around her face, causing him to readily remember removing glass from the light brown strands. The long-sleeved blouse she wore hid most of the dressing on her arm.

  The reporter said something close to her ear and Maggie laughed; the effect lighting up her face. Without warning, a stab of jealousy sliced though Jake. It was much more painful than he could have ever anticipated.

  Maggie had come out of this whole ordeal changed, as evidenced by the peace and confidence she radiated. “Jake,” Maggie said, surprise and pleasure in her voice.

  “I’ll call you, Maggie,” the reporter said as he left.

  Maggie nodded vaguely, her eyes still on Jake.

  Looking at the strapping younger man, Jake suddenly felt very old. Too old to be playing games of the heart. Way too old to be experiencing jealousy.

  “Hello, Sam, Duffy,” Maggie said. “Sam, you need to grab a plate.”

  “I agree,” Sam said. “Maybe even two.”

  Maggie laughed. “Multitasking. Good idea. Jake, aren’t you going to eat?” she asked.

  “You know what? I am hungry,” Jake said. “I guess I could hang around a while.” He smiled at Maggie, suddenly realizing that once again, Bitsy was right. He should have been here a week ago.

  * * *

  By the time Jake downed his second helping of stew with at least four more biscuits, the first bolts of lightning streaked across the night sky. Bitsy had insisted Maggie sit down and eat with Jake. A wave of exhaustion rolled over her as she pushed back her partially eaten meal.

  The guests had made a significant dent in the bounty spread across the counters and three tables. As the sound of thunder boomed overhead, several of her Paradise neighbors had begun to slowly gravitate toward the front door.

  It had been a pleasant day, but now as the hours stretched into evening, Maggie found she was more than ready for the party to end. Being an extrovert, even if only for the day, was draining. She hated to admit it, but she wasn’t up to par physically yet. She was tired and aching.

  What she longed for was to sit on the porch with a cup of tea, relax and listen to the quiet noises of the country.

  She said nothing, however, because if the party ended, Jake would also leave, and for the moment she simply wanted to enjoy his presence.

  As though reading her mind, Jake’s gaze connected with hers across the kitchen table. When she attempted to hide a yawn, he smiled and winked.

  “Bitsy,” he said, standing to clear the table.

  Bitsy turned from the sink where her hands were immersed in suds.

  “Maggie’s looking worn-out.” He scooped up Maggie’s plate as he cleared his own.

  Bitsy looked from Jake over to Maggie.

  “What do you want me to do, Jake?”

  “You could mention that ticketing of the vehicles might commence in thirty minutes.”

  “Roger that, Chief.”

  An hour later Maggie sat alone on her porch, tea in hand. Bitsy had done an amazing job of orchestrating the retreat.

  The sky truly opened up then and large drops of water pelted the last guest’s car as taillights faded into the distance. After a few minutes the rain became steady and rhythmic. Now this was a welcome guest.

  A beacon in his yellow rain slicker, Ed gave a final salute to the sheriff as he drove away. Sam backed the patrol car off the lawn and gave a friendly toot of the horn to
signal his own departure.

  Jake? She didn’t even know where his vehicle was. He had apparently already disappeared. They hadn’t even had a chance to talk. Deep disappointment pricked Maggie.

  Then she noticed the red fire-marshal truck pull up the drive closer to the house. When its door opened Jake dodged puddles and rain as he raced to the porch, a jacket over his head. He shook the water from his broad form and stood grinning down at her. He’d never looked so good.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” she returned. “Bitsy sure knows how to clear a room.”

  “A rare talent, huh?”

  Maggie nodded. “For which I am very grateful.”

  For moments they simply stared at each other.

  “Come back for pie?” Maggie asked.

  “Oh, something like that.”

  “Bitsy left me two.”

  “Two pies?” He looked her up and down. “I get one a year if I am really lucky and this is your third in what? Five weeks? A month? I’m telling you, ever since you hit town the pies have been running fast and loose.”

  “Must be my winning personality.”

  He snorted. “Or maybe the bandage on your head, your bruised face and the gauze on your arm.”

  Maggie glared.

  Jake only chuckled. “I need a favor.”

  “You’re supposed to sweeten someone up when you want a favor. Not insult them.”

  He shook his head and made a sound of disgust. “I’ll get it right one of these days.”

  “What’s the favor?” Maggie asked.

  Lifting his jacket he revealed a damp bundle of pale orange fur cowering in the crook of his arm.

  “A kitten. He’s shivering.”

  “She. Can you keep her?”

  “We’ve already discussed this.”

  “Is that your final answer?”

  Maggie put her cup on the ground and stood, reaching for the kitten. “I don’t do cats.”

  “This is not a cat. It’s a kitten.”

  She shook her head and opened the screen with the animal in her arms. Jake followed.

  “Where’d you find her?” Maggie asked, opening the hall closet. She pulled out a fluffy bath towel and gently rubbed the fur dry. The animal stopped shivering and began purring like a small motor.

  “In the woods by my house. She’s already been to the vet. All that’s left is to pick out a name.”