Small Town Girl

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Small Town Girl Page 20

by Linda Cunningham


  “I’m a lawyer in Boston,” he said. “I’m up here helping my aunt and uncle with their estate planning.”

  “Not that we plan on dying anytime soon.” Joan laughed.

  Lauren was beginning to relax. She liked Joan’s husband, and she liked Josh. He was easygoing and didn’t talk too much. By the time their food order had arrived, Lauren had finished her beer, as had Josh, so they ordered another round. Lauren was shocked to find herself actually laughing, and laughing because she thought something was funny, not out of sarcasm or bitterness at circumstance. She smiled at Josh and took a big bite out of her hamburger.

  Things were going so smoothly, but the stars were not aligned just yet. The evening was not what it appeared to be. The front door creaked, as it had all night long, as people came and went. Lauren, seemingly the only one to hear it this time, instinctively looked up. The little bubble of happiness within which she had found herself suddenly quivered and burst. Caleb Cochran walked in.

  Lauren felt her surroundings falling away from her in all directions with the speed of light. The second she saw him, she was alone in a vortex. Voices seemed far away. She could concentrate only on Caleb’s back as he made his way to the bar. With the greatest effort, she pulled herself back into the fold. He hasn’t seen me. Thank goodness for that. She could tell Josh was speaking to her, but she hadn’t heard a single word of it. Get a grip.

  Lauren leaned forward and said, “I’m sorry, Josh, what did you say? I didn’t hear. Some woman laughed out loud right in my ear just as you were speaking.”

  Josh pulled his chair closer to her, also leaning in. “I said, what are your plans when the house sells?”

  Lauren shook her head. “I don’t really know. I need to find a job. I was thinking of relocating from New York, at least temporarily.”

  “Your background would qualify you for a few things,” said Josh. The noise in the pub had escalated, so he moved in closer, his face inches from hers. “You should come to Boston. I could help you get your resume distributed to the right people.”

  “How kind!” said Lauren. Still gathering her wits, she concentrated her focus directly at Josh, listening intently to him. Perhaps Caleb would fade into the woodwork or leave, and she wouldn’t get caught staring at him.

  “I’m serious,” Josh continued. “Just let me know when you can come. I’ll line some people up for you to talk to.”

  All at once, Lauren couldn’t hold the temptation any longer. She took a quick look up at the bar. Caleb was standing, leaning on the corner of the bar, eating a sandwich. He set the sandwich down and looked around the room. Lauren, bent close to Josh, saw him move, but she couldn’t avert her gaze fast enough. Caleb saw her. Their eyes locked. It must have only been a couple of seconds, but it seemed as though they stared at each other for minutes. Time for them stopped. Then Caleb looked away. Lauren saw him leave money on the bar. He said something to a man on the bar stool next to him and then walked right past her. Lauren was ready to say something, even “hi,” but Caleb said nothing as he disappeared back out into the night.

  Unconsciously, Lauren watched him go. She felt Joan’s hand on her arm. “Are you all right, dear?” she asked.

  Lauren’s heart was fluttering. She thought it might stop altogether, but she smiled at Joan and said, “I’m fine. Probably just a little tired. I was sanding floors all day. I’m sorry, but I think I’ll excuse myself now. It’s been so nice to meet you, Roger, and you, Josh. Thank you so much for asking me.”

  They exchanged pleasantries. Josh gave her one of his business cards. As she smiled her goodbyes for the final time, she saw Joan looking at her intently.

  The outside air hit Lauren like cold water on her face. She took a deep breath of it and felt a little better, although her hands were still shaking. So much for trying to move on. Well, it wouldn’t be tonight, that’s for sure. Lauren pressed the “unlock” button on her key fob and climbed into her car. The sight of Caleb had rattled her confidence, as it always did. How could she overcome such an attraction? How could she leave such a love behind? And was it a love? Her resolve to deny it was destroyed by the sight of him. She sighed as she started the car. Yes, she admitted, it was love. Real love. Tonight, she wouldn’t fight it. She would concede. She would take her broken heart, go home, and crawl into bed — alone.

  Chapter Twelve

  THE HOUSE WAS CHILLY. Lauren thought about going directly to bed, but she was still too flustered at having seen Caleb to settle down. And why hadn’t he spoken to her? Why had he left in such a hurry when he saw her? If only he had just said something. Lauren tried to think of anything to distract her mind as thoughts of Caleb and their time together whirled in her brain like a hamster on a wheel. She went to the Welsh cupboard in the dining room, opened the bottom door, and took out the bottle of Jack Daniel’s. A little whiskey might help.

  Carefully, she took one of the crystal whiskey glasses down from the top shelf of the cupboard. Its weight felt good in her hand. She needed something solid. She poured a shot into the glass and held it up, absentmindedly swirling the amber liquid around the inside of the curved crystal. She took a sip. The warm liquid burned her lips, burned her mouth and throat in a most pleasing manner. She turned, and when she did, she saw the fireplace. She would light a fire.

  Lauren hadn’t lit a fire in the fireplace yet, and this would be the perfect night to do so. It would take the chill off and comfort her at the same time. She placed the glass of whiskey on the low table in front of the sofa and went outside to the woodpile. Shivering, she gathered as much wood and kindling in her arms as she could and struggled back inside. She knelt on the brick hearth, crumpling up newspaper and arranging the wood over it. Lauren was no stranger to starting fires. Often, as she was growing up, it was the only heat her parents allowed in their various homes.

  As Lauren struck the match and held it to the newspaper, a pang of nostalgia pierced her heart. The comfort of the fire would feel good, warming both bones and spirit. The fire caught immediately on the dry kindling, and the flames leaped and danced. Lauren sat back on the sofa, cupping her whiskey glass in her hands. She was surprised how much heat the fire threw. This could turn out to be her favorite spot if the house didn’t sell by winter.

  The fire calmed her, the whiskey relieved the tenseness in her, and she felt her shoulders relax. She read a few pages in her book and then began to feel tired. She glanced at the old clock on the mantel. It was eleven. Yawning, Lauren stood up and put the screen in front of the fire, checking to see that no sparks could escape. Then she climbed the stairs, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. In her bedroom, she undressed and slipped into her long white nightgown. Although made of gauzy see-through material, its long sleeves would keep her warmer than the black silk shift. She crawled beneath the covers. This time, instead of trying not to think of Caleb, she gave her thoughts over to her memories of the time they’d had together. It was oddly comforting to recall his touch on her body, awakening myriad feelings and emotions that she had previously only dreamed of. She remembered his lips on hers, his warm mouth seeking her capitulation. She drifted off to sleep imagining again the weight of his body on hers.

  How long she slept, Lauren had no idea, but she was suddenly aware of a heaviness in her chest, as though she could not take a deep breath. Slowly, she willed her mind out of the sleep that dulled and confused her senses. Her eyes burned as she opened them. The room seemed to be filled with fog. She took a gasping breath for air and felt a searing pain in her nose and throat. The realization exploded in her brain. Fire!

  It was not fog. It was smoke! Trying to control her panic, Lauren slipped out of bed, bending close to the floor. Her eyes watered so much she could hardly keep them open. Struggling for breath, she crawled along the floor, trying to reach the window or where she thought the window was. The swirling smoke obliterated all sense of direction. Lauren frantically felt around until her fingers closed around the flannel top she had worn the night
before, discarded carelessly over the chair of her vanity. She clapped it to her face. Now she couldn’t open her eyes at all. The smoke was suffocating. Blindly, she fought her way to the window. Holding the shirt to her face, she clutched at the windowsill with her other hand, exerting every ounce of effort she could muster to pull herself up. She must open the window. She must get air. Lauren hauled herself to her knees, but then she began to cough uncontrollably. The room was spinning around her. She clenched her teeth. The pain in her throat and chest was unbearable. Suddenly, all her strength left her. She fell to the floor, unable to move. Lauren felt her arms and legs tingling with a strange sensation. She fought to stay conscious, but she could not make her body move. Then a strange peace settled over her. Thoughts flitted in and out of her mind. She was dying, here in the old house. Should she struggle against death, or melt into the trap of the smoke, waiting for the relief death would bring? She could not move. Just before she lost consciousness, she thought she heard voices. She imagined someone was calling to her. Calling her name, over and over. She felt herself sinking into darkness.

  The next thing Lauren was aware of was that voice in her ear, calling her name.

  “Lauren! Lauren!”

  She could not answer. She could not react physically. She could only listen to the voices. Hands were on her now. Strong hands. Strong arms were lifting her. The voices were frantic in the background.

  “Did you find her? Is she in there? Caleb, get out of there. The whole top floor is full of smoke!”

  Caleb. Her mind fixed on his name.

  “I’ve got her!” Lauren heard the familiar voice. That dear, familiar voice. “I found her. I’m coming out! Get that medical oxygen ready now! I gotta breathe through the mask.” Lauren heard him cough once. She was aware of being carried, and just before she lost consciousness again, she felt the exquisite sting of the cool night air.

  When she opened her eyes, she was lying on a blanket on the lawn. People were moving around her, and there were flashing lights everywhere. Something was over her face. She struggled up, up through the blackness, and pulled at it. A gentle hand closed over hers. A man’s hand. Caleb’s hand.

  He bent close and whispered to her, “Shh, don’t struggle. It’s the oxygen. You’re going to need fifteen liters before we even get you to the hospital. Breathe, Lauren, breathe for me.”

  She could see him now. She tried to focus her eyes on his face. Caleb had removed his helmet. His face was close to hers. He was smiling, but there was fear in his eyes. He still wore his firefighter’s jacket. The Scott Pack, that life-saving supply of oxygen that enabled the men to search through smoke and fire-filled buildings, was still strapped to his back. He was kneeling beside her, his soul in his eyes.

  She reached up and touched his cheek. Two tears ran down the sides of her face. Caleb bent and kissed her forehead.

  “It was a chimney fire,” he said. “The creosote build-up in the chimney caught fire. Must be a crack in the flue because the smoke got into all the upstairs rooms. You were lucky one of your neighbors was coming home late because he saw the flames coming out the top of the chimney and called nine-one-one.” Caleb’s voice caught just then, and he brought his hand to his eyes. When he lifted his head, he said, “You had a close call, Lauren. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to you. Lauren, I love you. Breathe for me. I have to go up on the roof now. The fire’s out. We’ve got to drop chains down the chimney and shake the rest of the creosote loose. We have to assess the damage. You go with these guys. They’ll take good care of you. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

  She could hear his voice, talking about the roof or something, but her mind was stuck on the words “Lauren, I love you.” It was all she could focus on. It was all she wanted to hear.

  It must have been several hours later when a nurse pulled back the curtain that cordoned off her bed in the emergency room at the regional hospital. Lauren had been sleeping, and the nurse’s voice woke her.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Smith. There’s someone here to see you.”

  “It’s me, Lauren,” said Caleb, stepping past the nurse.

  “Oh, Caleb!”

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” said the nurse, closing the curtain.

  “Don’t talk if it hurts,” said Caleb. He sat on the edge of the bed. Lauren could tell he had come directly from the firehouse. He was unshaven and his hazel eyes were tired, but he was the most wonderful sight Lauren could imagine.

  “I’m all right,” she said, smiling at him. She pushed herself up on her pillows. “I was sleeping, I guess. What time is it?”

  “It’s nine o’clock in the morning. How does your throat feel?” He spoke a little awkwardly, as if unsure of her reaction.

  “I feel pretty good, actually,” she said. “I’m glad you came, Caleb. Thank you for saving my life.”

  “Lauren, I — I…” He stumbled on his words and was silent for a moment.

  Lauren looked into his eyes, searching his face. Then, unexpectedly, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. It was that same, warm sensual kiss that had burned its way into Lauren’s memory, firing her desire. Her own lips softened and pressed into his. She felt the moist warmth of his mouth. The tip of his tongue touched her lips, and she parted them, letting him in to explore her. Too soon, though, she felt him draw back. She gazed up and saw his brow slightly furrowed. He enfolded her then, in his arms, cradling her against his chest, her face under his chin, against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. Lauren felt him sigh, a deep, shuddering sigh.

  “I was so scared,” he whispered. “So terrified. When I went into the house and it was full of smoke…I could only think — ”

  Lauren pulled gently back from his embrace and put a finger on his lips. “I’m fine,” she said softly. “You came in time. Here I am.”

  He smiled. “We got everything under control at the house. The damage isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, considering the amount of smoke. No flames broke through, so it’ll only be some cleaning and repainting. Drapes will have to be cleaned. Get rid of the smoky smell. The downstairs is pretty much untouched. The fire started up high, or, at least, that’s where the crack was.”

  “I can’t believe I forgot to have the chimneys cleaned. Joan told me to do that, too!”

  “Did someone say my name? Is someone talking about me?” The curtain was whipped back, and there was Joan. “Oh, you poor girl! You could have died!” she exclaimed, sitting down in the chair next to the bed.

  “That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” said Lauren, ruefully. She leaned against Caleb, loath to pull away from that warm, muscular safety.

  Joan held up a canvas tote. “I brought you some clothing,” she said. “I went to the house and rifled through and found some jeans, underwear, and this shirt. You can’t be going home in your nightie!”

  “Oh, thank you,” said Lauren, truly touched. “How thoughtful of you.”

  “Do you have a ride home?” asked Joan.

  “Yes, she has a ride home.” Caleb answered the question.

  “I see,” said Joan, smiling. “Do you know when they’ll release you?”

  “I can remember the nurse saying after I woke up from my nap,” said Lauren. “So I guess any time.”

  Joan stood up. “You take care of yourself. Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll see to the damage in the house, and I’ll keep those buyers interested until everything is cleaned up. I didn’t get Realtor of the Year for nothing!” She bent forward and kissed the top of Lauren’s head. “See you both later.” Then she left them.

  Lauren and Caleb walked out of the hospital hand-in-hand. They crossed the parking lot and climbed into the big white pickup truck. Lauren pulled the seat belt around her and settled back, closing her eyes for a second.

  “Are you okay?” asked Caleb.

  “Yes,” Lauren assured him. “Will you go into the house with me when we get there? I’m kind of freaked out to see it alo
ne.”

  “Of course,” said Caleb, turning onto the main road. “I don’t plan on being very far away from you ever again.”

  Lauren said nothing. She did not want to break the magic.

  They swung into the driveway of the old house. The lawn was trampled, as were some of the shrubs and lilacs that grew close to the house. Shingles littered the grass. Caleb followed Lauren as she went through the gate and into the house.

  She was thankful that the kitchen and the rest of the downstairs, where the bulk of her work had been done, were largely spared. There was a slight acrid smell of smoke in the air, but a good airing out would take care of that, she reasoned. She went into the hallway and looked up. Smoke stains smeared the ceiling and sooty patches blackened the corners of the walls. She took a deep breath and started up the stairs. She went into the bedroom where she had slept. Where she had almost died. Where Caleb had found her. The smell of smoke was strong here, and the soot was thick on the ceiling. Lauren threw open each of the windows. A breeze wafted in, doing its best to clear the odor.

  Caleb stood in the doorway. Finally, he said, “It won’t take as long as you think to clean this up. We can get ahead of it in no time.”

  Lauren caught the “we,” but she was afraid to acknowledge it, afraid to have her dreams dashed yet again. “I can see I have a lot of work cut out for me. Well, I planned on repainting and papering this room anyway. I guess it’ll postpone the sale, though.”

  Caleb coughed. “The first thing to do is to get those chimneys cleaned and relined. These days, they drop a metal liner down them and, with proper care, they’re safe for a long, long time. Let’s go back downstairs. I’ll give you the number of a guy I know who works on chimneys. I work with him a lot when we install heating systems. He’ll come right away. Come on, you’re looking a little depressed.”

  She gave him a grateful smile. He seemed to know everything about her. She followed him downstairs into the kitchen. Caleb wrote the name and number on her notepad. Then he turned and took her hands in his.

 

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