His father clapped him on the back. “Nice picture, huh?”
“Dad, how did they get this picture?”
Ever happy-go-lucky, Mack grinned and ran a hand through his thick, silver hair. “Me. I took it through the window of Bob’s shop. Told you that photography class would come in handy. Great publicity, huh? The election is coming up, after all.”
“I’m running unopposed.”
“No matter. This will hit home with the voters. You’re a hero, Jacob.”
“Burned eggs, Dad. It was a 10-35. Unnecessary alarm system activation.”
“Who’s that in the picture with you?” Mack asked.
“Maggie Jones. You’ll note that she doesn’t look real happy.”
Mack narrowed his eyes and pulled the paper close to his bifocals. “Can’t hardly see her face. Bob’s niece, right?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s a smart one, that girl. I brought that broken reel of mine to her and she figured out what was wrong with it before I even left the shop. You know, the one you’ve been working on?”
Jake gave a tight nod.
“I heard from Duffy that you two really hit it off.”
“Duffy said that?”
“Said it sure took you a long time to get her statement.”
Jake folded up the newspaper. “Don’t listen to Duffy, Dad. He’s a troublemaker.”
“He’s your best friend.”
“Not anymore.” Jake handed his father the paper.
Mack laughed and shot a glance at the big, stainless-steel wall clock. “Hey, I nearly forgot. Bitsy Harmony called. She said to remind you that you’ve got an appointment at the photographer’s.”
“Tell me again why I’m going to the photographers?”
“The fire department fund-raiser at the Paradise Fair.”
“The raffle.” Jake bit out the words.
“Right.”
“Bitsy says it’s going to bring in lots of revenue for the fire department as well as the auxiliary. A win-win for everyone.”
“Since when did you get so tight with Bitsy?”
“We’re friends. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
Jake grunted in response, as his mood moved south. Bitsy’s first idea had been a bachelor auction. He’d thought he’d effectively torched that notion, but when he hadn’t been looking the raffle had taken off like a bottle rocket.
He had to give the woman credit. This time the head of the Paradise Ladies Auxiliary had played it smart. She’d gotten a fire started on the raffle before he’d had a chance to snuff it out. The entire town, including Jake’s own men, had embraced the idea. All he could do now was smile and go along with it.
Because, yeah, it was an election year.
“Think you could watch the store while I go?” Jake asked.
“Sure. Glad to help you out. But come right back. I’ve got a meeting with our web guy at noon. He drove all the way up here from the Springs.”
“We have a web guy? I thought Duffy was doing the webpage.”
“Bitsy says it’s time for us to go pro, son.”
Bitsy again?
His father continued. “This guy is going to redesign the site and get the store some social media. Good for business. Might even get us Tweeter next.”
“Twitter.”
Mack released a hearty chuckle. “Is that what it’s called?”
Jake shook his head as he exited and walked across the blacktop to his truck.
He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, making a hard right at the last minute. Why not take the long way around to the photography studio, past Bob Jones’s shop? Make sure everything was okay with his fellow shopkeepers.
Or possibly, just one Maggie Jones.
He’d never admit it to anyone, but he’d been thinking about her a lot since yesterday. Maybe it was her jaunty ponytail the color of warm caramel. Or the way she chewed on her lower lip as she concentrated. Or the way she looked at him, with those owlish brown eyes that seemed to see...everything. Next to her cousin Susan, a man might overlook the mousy brunette.
That would be a mistake.
It was the strangest thing, he mused. The incident report paperwork should have taken five minutes, tops. But he couldn’t stop asking questions. Couldn’t say what had gotten into him, either. Except that Maggie Jones disturbed him. That concerned Jake, because he hadn’t been disturbed in a very long time.
At his age he had no energy to put into women. Generally he didn’t have to, either. Since his wife died, women naturally seemed to think he needed taking care of. He didn’t. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop them from trying to get his attention, though he’d never shown an interest before.
Thankfully things were slowing down. Of the twenty-two men on the Paradise Volunteer Fire Department, he was one of the oldest. Lately he’d started to feel his age.
Jake inhaled as he glanced out the window of his pickup toward the outline of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in the distance. The scent of pine and clean air, mixed with all that was Paradise, filled his senses.
Paradise had healed Jake more than he deserved. More than he could have ever hoped. He could never finish paying penance for his sins. For the life lost that day ten years ago. He knew it and he assumed God knew, as well. Still he managed to get through each day with a smile and a sense of humor. That was all a man could ask. Right?
Or maybe not. All he knew for sure was that in the last twenty-four hours he’d started thinking about things he never imagined he’d have a chance to ever consider again.
The wind shifted and Jake smelled something else in the breeze. Change. Yeah. He knew it was coming, yet he didn’t embrace the fact. No, these days he was only wary. Maybe a little scared, too.
“What lies ahead, Lord?” Jake murmured. “Prepare me. Whatever it is.”
Chapter Two
Maggie reached for her denim jacket and headed outside, where Susan waited at the curb in a gleaming, red convertible sports car. Her husband, Al, owned a new-car dealership in Monte Vista and humored his wife by letting her test-drive a vehicle every now and again. Maggie pulled open the door and slid in.
She looked over at Susan, who wore a bright red halter sundress, the exact shade of her car, and a wide-brimmed straw hat. Then she glanced down at her own jeans and beige scoop-neck top. “I’m underdressed.” The words were a dour admission.
“No worries.” Susan smiled. “We’ll get you into my boutique this week and liven up your wardrobe.”
Maggie mustered a weak smile.
“Any problems with the house?” Susan asked.
“No. It’s perfect. I’ve already planted herbs. I’ve got a spot along the fence where I’m going to set up my hives, and next week I’ll start planning my garden.”
“Wait a minute. Back up. Hives? As in bees?”
“Yes. I’ve ordered two honey-bee boxes.”
“Bees. Okay.” Susan shook her head. “Bees aside, how is the house itself? There’s not much furniture in there.”
“Enough for me. Right now, I’m just grateful it was available.”
“Truly a God thing,” Susan said. “We nearly sold the place, but the deal fell through at the last minute.”
“I’m very grateful to you and Al for letting me rent it from you.”
“I don’t want your money. You’re family.”
“I need to pay my way, Susan.”
“Fine for now, Mags, I’m just thrilled to have you back in Paradise,” Susan said.
Maggie shook her head. “I didn’t realize how much I missed you and your folks and Paradise until this week.”
“Well, it’s awfully sweet of you to give Daddy the chance to go fishing. This is his best birthday present ever. Not many people would dare to take on a shop that fixes everything from bicycles to computers.”
“Eclectic. Not unlike me. It makes perfect sense for me to run the shop, and I really enjoy it.”
She did, and she loved
taking things apart and repairing them. In a perfect world she’d hang out at the shop on a regular basis. Unfortunately her bank account didn’t agree. A real job was her next priority.
She wasn’t going to think about the one she’d quit in Denver, nor her recent and depressing past. Not today. Today was Saturday and another day toward the future. A future she would choose. Not her parents.
They drove down the main drag of Paradise, toward the outskirts of town, where the ballpark and the new fairgrounds waited.
“Where am I volunteering?” Maggie asked, taking in the view of the tall conifers that lined the road.
“The bait shop.”
Maggie shot straight up in her seat. “The bait shop? Of all the places to volunteer, you pick the bait shop? I don’t know anything about fishing.”
“Think, Maggie. Where will all the men be? Where they sign up for their fishing license, of course.”
“Yes. Of course. No-brainer.” Maggie nodded. “What I don’t understand is why you think I care? I only just recently got rid of a man. I am not looking for another.”
“Margaret Jones, are you going to sit there and tell me you didn’t find Jake MacLaughlin to be the best-looking man you have ever set your eyes upon.”
“What does he have to do with this conversation?” Maggie sputtered.
“Answer my question.”
“Oh, he’s handsome, all right, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I thought so.” Susan released a satisfied smile.
“You’re married. Why are you looking?”
“I’m merely prescreening the field as my duty to you.”
Maggie released an unladylike snort.
“You never know,” Susan continued, “Jake could be your one.”
“One what?”
“The one.”
“Susan, I already met the one, and as it turned out he was only interested in me because of the potential for a tenure recommendation from my parents.”
“That man was one loser. You were smart to run.”
“Tell that to my parents, who are no doubt, right this moment, returning several dozen wedding presents.”
Susan shrugged. “So the timing wasn’t the best.”
An understatement. Maggie sighed, recalling the hefty check she’d sent her parents to cover the cost of the last-minute wedding cancellations.
“Let’s focus on the positive.” Susan reached over and patted Maggie on the arm. “Lucky for you, Al and Daddy won’t be back for another nineteen days. I can devote all my extra time to helping you.”
Maggie slouched down against the hand-stitched, leather bucket seats. “Save me, Lord,” she mumbled as Susan zipped the little red car into the fairgrounds parking lot.
The bright banner across the front entrance proclaimed Paradise’s annual Fair. In smaller print attendees were reminded that all proceeds supported the Paradise Volunteer Fire Department and the Paradise Ladies Auxiliary. Susan quickly located a spot dismissed as too small in the sea of monster pickup trucks and pulled in.
Maggie got out of the car and stretched while she waited for Susan to remove her stuff from the trunk. Barely holding back a huge grin she glanced around at all the families headed toward the fairgrounds. Tipping her head back she let the warm sun kiss her face. It didn’t get any better than this—small town, population seventeen hundred and four, unobstructed view of the San Juan Mountains to the west, the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to the east and brilliant powder-blue skies as far as she could see.
A thud from the trunk interrupted her musings. Maggie turned. “Susan, do you need help?”
“No, no, I’m just doing a quick check. One of my girls is manning a booth for the boutique. I brought along some extra inventory.” She popped her head up from the car’s trunk and waved a hand. “Go ahead. I don’t want to make you late... The bait-shop tent is right next to the information booth. I’ll come and get you for the big raffle. Remember, it’s in about two hours.”
Maggie set off, a silly grin on her face as she took in the sights. The smell of waffle cakes, sausages and barbecued turkey legs teased her senses. Barely eleven in the morning, and already lines were forming.
She dodged a teenage couple with arms looped around each other, and then stopped midstep at a huge poster tacked to the side of the information booth.
Jake MacLaughlin, his strong profile set against a background of muted red, white and blue. The sign read Reelect the Chief.
The man was everywhere. She hurried her steps, navigating around people to get to the large bait-shop tent set up by the chamber of commerce. There was a crowd gathered outside, waiting to get licenses. Fishing was one of the biggest tourist draws to Paradise in the summer months.
Maggie grabbed a carpenter’s apron and an instruction sheet from the cashier and got to work. It took less than thirty minutes for Maggie to get through the first deluge of customers. She turned her attention to stocking a table with applications for fishing licenses and entry forms for the upcoming midsummer fishing tournament on Paradise Lake.
Suddenly goose bumps danced over her arms. She looked up. Jake MacLaughlin had walked into the tent. Maggie slipped her glasses into her pocket and adjusted her ponytail. When Jake’s glance met hers she knew exactly what he was thinking.
Trouble.
She read the words on his face. The man thought she was trouble. He turned slightly as though to leave, then he suddenly did an about-face, and walked over.
“Don’t say it,” she said.
“Say what?” he asked. His jungle-cat eyes twinkled and it was clear he had failed at all attempts to keep a straight face.
“‘Burned any eggs, lately?’”
“You got it all wrong. I was going to ask if you’d seen your picture in the newspaper,” he said.
“Could we not talk about that, either?”
“Fine by me.”
She willed herself to concentrate on dividing up the supply of pens.
Jake cleared his throat. “Mind if I fill out an application?”
Maggie’s face warmed. “Sorry. Fishing license or tournament application?”
“Both.”
Of course he was an overachiever. She handed him the forms and tried not to stare as he filled them out. Maggie was used to tall, wiry academics with pale skin. Jake MacLaughlin was larger than life, with the build of a football player. Yet, he seemed keenly intelligent. A puzzle. She liked puzzles.
He lifted his head and met her gaze.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She glanced away, her face heated yet again.
When she turned back he held out two twenty-dollar bills.
“May I see some ID?” she asked.
“You’re kidding, right?
She shrugged. “No ID, no entry.”
“Turnabout, huh?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Right.” He flipped out his billfold and Maggie took her time reading the birth date on the license. It was exactly as she suspected. Midlife crisis waiting to happen.
“Here you go,” she said. “Your entry ticket, plus a coupon for a free cupcake from Patti Jo’s Café and Bakery.”
“You keep the coupon.” He patted his stomach. “I’m watching my calories.”
Her gaze was drawn to his flat abdomen, broad muscular chest and biceps. Oh, he looked good in the navy T-shirt with the fire-company logo on it, the cotton fabric stretched taut against his muscles. And he knew it. She barely managed to maintain her “I am not impressed” stance.
They both turned as a crowd of people entered the tent. When the group moved toward the registration table, Jake was effectively trapped behind the table with Maggie.
“Hey, Chief. Working hard?” A young man with a navy shirt that matched Jake’s smiled and winked at Maggie.
“You know it,” Jake returned.
To Maggie’s surprise he didn’t leave her side but began to hand out forms and pens.
“You don’t have to stay,” Maggie murmured.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Jake asked with a wry grin.
“No. I’m simply saying that I’m sure you probably have other places you need to be.”
“Nope.”
As the license lines grew, they developed a companionable and efficient pattern. Maggie collected the money, slipping it into her apron pockets, and Jake took the completed forms. She noted he didn’t check ID as she had. Apparently he knew everyone in Paradise.
She remained acutely aware of his presence, especially the occasional moments their hands collided.
“Sorry,” she said, drawing back quickly.
He mumbled an apology in return.
“Do you need to be somewhere?” she asked when there was a momentary lull.
“Trying to get rid of me yet again, huh? You know, a guy could get a complex around you.”
“I’m trying to be polite. I appreciate your help. I don’t think I could have handled that crowd alone.”
Jake smiled. “Anytime.”
“Anytime, what?” Susan interrupted as she walked into the tent.
“Anytime is a good time for fishing.” Jake grinned. “Right, Maggie?”
“Yes. Correct.” The brochures in her hand slipped to the table and she carefully collected them.
“Well, ladies,” Jake said, “I guess I’ll be off.” He gave Maggie a quick wink.
Embarrassed, she only nodded, while Susan scrutinized them both.
“We should go,” Susan said. “They’re closing the tents for an hour during the raffle. I’ve already gotten us seats up close and personal.”
Maggie took off her apron, turned her money in to the cashier and followed an impatient Susan.
“Hurry, hurry,” her cousin urged, linking her arm through Maggie’s. “We don’t want to miss a thing.”
“Isn’t your mom here today?” Maggie asked, looking around.
“She’s backstage helping the Paradise Ladies Auxiliary with the pies.”
“Pies? Some sort of blue-ribbon thing?”
“Sort of. They raffle pies and cakes that were awarded ribbons earlier this morning. Then they’ll start raffling all sorts of other delectable things.”
Safe in the Fireman's Arms Page 2