Her Firefighter Hero

by Leigh Bale

  “We do?”

  He nodded. “Yes, sweetheart. Because I love you. More than anything in this world.”

  “You do?”

  “Oh, yes. And I love Caleb and June, too. I feel like they’re my own children. When I thought I might lose all of you in that fire, I was beside myself with grief. I couldn’t stand it, Megan. I had to save you. And if changing jobs will convince you that we should be together, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  A rush of happiness filled her heart. “That’s good. Because we adore you, too. But I don’t think it’ll be necessary for you to get another job.”

  He stood and took hold of her arm, caressing her skin with his fingertips. “It won’t?”

  “No. It’s enough that you offered. But when we were surrounded by that fire, something occurred to me.”

  He leaned near, until his nose brushed hers. “And what’s that?”

  “We need men and women like you, who are brave enough to put out the fires. Without you, there are a lot of people who would be in a whole lot of trouble. Because of your work, you save their lives and property. Just like you saved me and the kids yesterday.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “What are you saying, sweetheart?”

  “I love you, too, Jared. I realize that now. I can’t help it. I think I loved you the first time you stepped into my restaurant. I just didn’t want to admit it. And I’ve been fighting it ever since. But now, I realize that life is too short to live in regret. That loving you makes me feel strong and fulfilled. It makes me a better mother. A better person. Like I can conquer any problem that comes my way. But only if you’re by my side.”

  He gave a low laugh, as though he couldn’t quite believe what she said. “I feel the same way. But do you really mean that, Meg?”

  “Oh, yes.” She didn’t even hesitate. And she realized loving Jared meant more to her than being safe and lonely.

  She loved him. With all her heart. And loving him chased away her fears. She wasn’t afraid anymore. Even after what they’d gone through yesterday. Where there’d once been pain and anguish, now all she felt was calm, smooth peace in her heart.

  “I thought the burnover would have pushed you even further away from me,” he said.

  “No, it’s brought me closer. When I realized I could have lost you, it brought me to my senses. It made me realize I’d lose much, much more if I walked away from you. And I want to stay. To be a permanent part of your life.”

  Yes, the fire had galvanized her love for Jared. Because she realized, if she wasn’t with him, life wasn’t worth living anyway. Jared’s love was worth any risk.

  “Are you really sure? I mean, I know you still love Blaine,” he said.

  “Of course I do. He was my husband and the father of my children. I’ll always have a place in my heart for him. But you’re there, too. And I’ve learned that love isn’t limited. It just grows and encompasses everyone I care about. My love for you is so powerful, Jared. I can’t imagine living without you now. Oh, yes, I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

  He laughed. “Then marry me. Be my wife and let’s be a real family. You, me and the kids.”

  Megan hesitated. “Are you sure you’re up to that? We’re kind of a ready-made family. Our lives aren’t always easy to manage.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Together, we can do anything. You’re already mine. We were meant for each other.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Life is too fleeting, and I don’t want to lose anymore. Please don’t quit your job. I want you to be happy, too. We’ve got a difficult road ahead of us now with losing Zach. Tessa and Sean are going to need our support. But managing fires makes you happy.”

  “But you make me happy, too. More than I can say. You’re the most important thing to me now. You and the kids.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him close. “I think we can have both. Just promise me you’ll be careful out there. Promise me you’ll come home safe every time. And after that, we’ll exercise our faith in God.”

  He lowered his head, his gaze locked with hers. “Yes, I like that. I promise, sweetheart. I promise you that and all my love. Forever more.”

  He kissed her. And no more words were needed. Not for a very long time. Not until they told the happy news of their engagement to the kids. Because love truly was worth any risk.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from COAST GUARD SWEETHEART by Lisa Carter.

  Dear Reader,

  I have a dear friend who is an ironworker and has walked the iron of numerous skyscrapers. My own father and other good friends have fought wildfires for a living. And I have a beloved son who is a Sergeant in the US Marine Corps. Brave souls, every one. They are my heroes. But I’ve often wondered how I might react if I were to lose one of them to their dangerous profession. Would I have hope and courage in the face of such adversity or fear? This is a question each of us must answer for ourselves.

  In this book, Megan Rocklin’s husband was a hotshot wildfire fighter who was killed in the line of duty. Suffering from a broken heart, Megan has vowed never to love another wildfire fighter, or any man who works in a dangerous profession. But I wonder if this is a realistic goal. Are any of us ever safe, no matter what we do for a living? Do we really know the day or hour when we might lose someone we love? For me, living by faith is the answer. Trusting in God and handing my fears over to Him brings me a great deal of peace.

  I hope you enjoy reading this story, and I invite you to visit my website at LeighBale.com to learn more about my books.

  May you find peace in the Lord’s words!

  Leigh Bale

  Coast Guard Sweetheart

  by Lisa Carter

  Chapter One

  “What are you doing here, Sawyer Kole?”

  Honey Duer’s heart stuttered. Irrational gladness surged through her nerve endings until she tamped her feelings down to that secret place where she contained everything concerning the Coast Guard petty officer. Perched on a stool at the Sandpiper Cafe counter, he stiffened at the sound of her voice.

  Kiptohanock life ebbed and flowed around them. The hearty scent of eggs and bacon permeated the diner. Weather-beaten watermen packed the green vinyl booths and sopped their buttermilk biscuits in redeye gravy while trading fish stories.

  Placing his palms flat against the counter, Sawyer rose and faced her. He let his arms drop to his side.

  Much against her will, Honey’s gaze locked onto Sawyer’s hands—strong, work-roughened and capable. A distant memory flashed of those hands cupping one of Blackie’s pups.

  The clinking of glasses and murmur of voices in the crowded diner faded into a distant, droning buzz as the image of Sawyer’s face that long ago Kiptohanock spring welled in her mind. He’d cradled the black Labrador puppies, the lines fanning out from his eyes as he smiled. At her.

  Her stomach knotted. And with her reverie broken, she found his crystal blue gaze fixed on her. In his eyes, she beheld pain, regret, sadness. And a question?

  She recalled her crusty waterman father’s oft-quoted saying, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

  Honey quelled the traitorous feelings Sawyer’s presence evoked. She’d believed—hoped—after three long years, she’d be immune. But apparently not.

  She’d learned the hard way not to trust a Coastie. Especially not this one. So with deliberate effort, she schooled her features and reined in her pulse.

  The summer tourist season remained at fever pitch with the upcoming Labor Day weekend and Duck Decoy Festival. And with the Duer family’s century-old lodge booked to the rafters, she didn’t need this—or him—distracting her.

  “Why are you here, Kole?”

  Eyelids drooping, he p
ut the stool between them. “Reassigned back to the Shore. Thought the chief would’ve warned you.”

  Honey propped her hands on her hips—mainly to give her hands something to do. Anything but allow her hands to shake and betray their utter unreliability. “The chief? Braeden Scott knew you were here?”

  Of course as Officer in Charge her brother-in-law knew. Which meant her big sister Amelia knew, too. She growled low in her throat. “How long, Kole? How long have you been skulking around Kiptohanock without me knowing?”

  “A week.”

  Sawyer’s eyes, the blue of a winter sky over the blue-green waters of the Delmarva Peninsula, darted toward her again. “I was told you didn’t work at the cafe anymore. That you wouldn’t be hard to...” His gaze slid away to the diner’s plate glass window overlooking the cupola-topped gazebo on the square.

  And she extinguished the tiny spark of hope that had surfaced upon spotting his broad uniformed shoulders hunched over a cup of coffee and a plate of Long Johns. As if time had rewound back to that spring when she’d dared to dream, to hope...

  She grimaced.

  When he left her looking like a fool in front of the fishing hamlet of Kiptohanock, Virginia.

  And the startling fact that hope somehow persisted—despite her best efforts to eradicate it—angered Honey. Angered her more than the gall of this here-today, gone-tomorrow Coastie, who had the nerve to show up in her town at her cafe again.

  The anger, with three long years to simmer, boiled in her veins. ’Cause Sawyer Kole hadn’t come looking for her. He’d come thinking to avoid her.

  Eating Long Johns and drinking coffee at her counter as if nothing had changed. Some things never did change. Some men never did, either.

  Like how you couldn’t trust a Coastie as far as you could throw him.

  “Honey, I—” His mouth pulled downward.

  The anger percolated in her gut, rising. Someone tugged at her hand.

  She glanced down to find her eight-year-old nephew, Max. With whom she’d come searching for a midmorning treat once the inn’s guests cleared out after breakfast. Max—whom she’d completely forgotten in her sudden awareness of Sawyer.

  “Is that the Coastie who made you cry, Aunt Honey?”

  She flinched at the foghorn decibel of Max’s voice.

  Conversation ground to an abrupt silence.

  Sawyer’s face constricted and he swallowed. Hard.

  “I’m sorry, Honey.” Sawyer pivoted on his heel toward the exit.

  Her nostrils flared. That was it? After all this time, that was all he had to say for himself?

  If he thought he was going to walk away from her again, Sawyer Kole had another thought coming. No longer able to contain the molten lava of three years of unanswered questions, her anger erupted and exploded.

  “That’d be Beatrice Duer to you, Coastie.”

  She reached across the counter and seized the uneaten Long John on his plate. She hurled the cinnamon donut across the room where it collided with a shower of powdery sugar against the back of Sawyer Kole’s hard head.

  The dozen or so cafe patrons, including Max, gave a collective gasp.

  Sawyer whipped around. The disbelief on his features almost made her laugh.

  Almost. ’Cause laughing wasn’t something she’d done much since that bittersweet spring.

  “Honey...” Her waitress friend, Dixie, lowered a platter of fresh baked Long Johns to the countertop. “Before you go off half-cocked...”

  Sawyer just...stared at her. Which only made Honey crazier. She snatched another Long John off Dixie’s tray.

  This time, he made a gesture with his hand like a stop sign. “Honey...” His mouth tightened.

  Honey raised her arm in an arc over her head. “I told you to call me Beatrice. Be-a-trice. Better yet, don’t call me anything at all.” She drew back.

  Sawyer’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t...”

  Honey lobbed the donut at him.

  Zapping him square between the eyes, the Long John bounced and landed at his regulation black shoes on the cafe’s linoleum floor.

  “Hah!” She jutted her chin. “I just did.”

  Max nudged her with his elbow. “Mimi says it’s not nice to throw things, Aunt Honey.”

  “He deserves it.” She palpitated another Long John. “This one, too.”

  And she flung the donut in Sawyer’s direction again. But her aim was a trifle off. The Long John only grazed his tropical blue Coastie uniform, leaving a trail of sugar across his chest.

  His rugged profile remained stoic. The arctic blue of his eyes smoldered. But otherwise, no reaction.

  Maddened, she palmed another pastry, which she let fly in a curveball worthy of the Kiptohanock church league champions. “And another. And—”

  It ricocheted off his jaw.

  A muscle ticked in his cheek. But he said nothing. Only opened his stance to hip’s width and folded his hands behind his back. He lifted his face as if bracing for the next onslaught. Preparing to take whatever she pitched his way.

  “Tough guy, huh? I’ll show you—”

  Max laughed. “This looks like a fun game, Aunt Honey.”

  Grabbing a Long John for himself, he propelled it across the length of the cafe. It landed with a plop into the cereal bowl of a redheaded girl from his Sunday school class. She screamed as the milk cascaded over the rim and onto her Girl Scout uniform.

  Honey made a futile grab for her nephew as he appropriated two fistfuls of fried dough. “Max! Don’t—”

  But too late.

  The little girl yanked a Long John off a fellow scout’s plate and chucked it toward Max. But instead of Max, it hit a grungy waterman in the nose.

  “Hey!” The boat captain jumped to his feet. His reactionary winged donut walloped the troop leader, Mrs. Francis, upside the head.

  Mrs. Francis rose with battle fury in her eyes. “How dare you, you crazy ole—”

  “Boys against girls!” Max scrambled atop Sawyer’s vacated stool. Using the stool as a shield, with machine-gun rapid fire, he launched the doughy projectiles at the rest of the Girl Scouts.

  Who returned fire with targeted accuracy.

  Max retreated toward a table of his granddad’s contemporaries. Who, when the barrage sailed their way, responded with a volley of catapulted sugar and cinnamon. Ducking behind the padded booths, Mrs. Francis, the Kiptohanock postmistress and the town librarian, directed the Girl Scouts’ cannon assault.

  “Score!” Max fist-pumped as another donut grenade connected with the little redheaded girl.

  Her answering shot left Max with a mouthful of pastry. Spitting and coughing, Max retreated behind the counter.

  Donuts a-flying, Sawyer and Honey gaped at the ensuing melee taking place around them. An island of calm in the midst of mayhem.

  “Your turn, Aunt Honey.”

  She dodged too late as the Long John smacked her in the forehead.

  Max clenched another pastry in his right hand. “Bull’s—”

  “Don’t do it, Max... Drop it...” Sawyer stepped in front of her and scooped a mangled Long John off the floor. “Don’t you dare hit your aunt Honey again, Max.”

  Max chuckled and took aim. As did Sawyer. Peeping through her fingers, she covered her face with her hands.

  The bells jingled as the door whooshed open.

  “Executive Petty Officer Kole! What is going on in here? You will cease and desist immediately.”

  Sawyer groaned at the sight of his boss, Senior Chief Braeden Scott, framed in the doorway of the cafe.

  “Max Duer Scott! Honey!”

  Honey lowered her hands. Her older sister, Amelia, glared. Max dropped the donut and shuffled his feet.

  The surreptitious th
ud of twenty other donuts hit the floor as the townspeople came to their senses and surveyed the sugary wreckage of Kiptohanock’s favorite hangout.

  “Storm’s a-coming.” Seth Duer, her father, crossed his arms across his flannel plaid shirt. “But what in the name of fried oysters is going on in here?”

  * * *

  “What were you thinking, Kole?” Sawyer’s superior—and Honey’s brother-in-law—stared at him. “We’ve got a tropical depression barreling up the East Coast and you’ve started a war in Kiptohanock?”

  “I’m sorry, Chief.” Sawyer scanned the deserted and wrecked diner. “I accidentally ran into Honey and we sort of...collided.”

  “Do you think this is a laughing matter, Executive Petty Officer Kole? Do you think this is any way for the second in command at Station Kiptohanock to treat the local populace? Represent the United States Coast Guard? Provide an example to the station crew?”

  Sawyer wiped the emerging smile off his face. He went into a rigid salute, feet clamped together. “No. Not at all, Chief Scott.”

  Braeden glowered. “I should hope not, BMC Kole. Or I might have to rethink requesting your reassignment here on the Delmarva Peninsula.”

  “Permission to speak freely, Chief?”

  Braeden narrowed his eyes. “Ankle deep in powdered sugar, I’d speak carefully if I were you, Kole.”

  Sawyer cut his eyes around his thirtysomething commander toward the kitchen where the chief’s pregnant wife, Amelia, reamed out a much-subdued Honey. A firm hand clamped on her orphaned nephew and adopted son, Amelia kept Max affixed in place. Fixed like a bug on a pin until his turn for her strawberry blonde wrath.

  “This was a bad idea, me being reassigned to the Eastern Shore again, Chief.”

  Braeden’s eyebrow arched. “Oh, really?”

  Sawyer nodded. “I thought after what happened three years ago...after our last conversation that night...” He slumped. “That you understood... It was better for everyone, especially Honey, for me to never—”