She lifted her chin. “The good news is if they take everything I have left I can declare bankruptcy and start over.”
Logan swore again.
The soccer team rounded the last turn on the field and descended on the coaches. Most of the youngsters were breathing hard. Logan figured conditioning should be high on the list of things to do. Winning a close game in the fourth quarter could depend on it.
Coolly, as if she hadn’t just announced a financial bombshell, Janice introduced Logan to the team. He tried to focus on remembering the kids’ names. No easy task when he was still trying to absorb the news that anyone could run up a debt as large as Ray’s.
With equal efficiency, she organized the boys into two relay teams and set them to dribbling the ball around Day-Glo-orange cones. Then she stood back to observe the action.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
She glanced up at him. Her eyes were clear though troubled, her lips pulled into a determined line. “There’s only one thing I can do. Well, two, actually. The only asset I have left is the house. There’s no way I can meet the monthly mortgage payments, so I’m going to sell it.” Her chin trembled ever so slightly. “And then I’m going to get a job and support my kids if I have to scrub floors seven days a week to do it.”
Unable to resist, he brushed his fingertips across her cheek, caressing her smooth, perfect complexion. “What about your family? Couldn’t they help?”
“They have their own problems. Besides, they’re all in Missouri. This is my home, where I want my children to grow up.”
“Then you’ll manage. I’m sure of it.”
She moved away from him as though unable to handle any show of sympathy at the moment. He gave her points for that. She was stronger than she realized, more determined. A hell of a woman.
“My biggest problem right now is that I hate to sell the house in its current condition. The exterior trim’s a mess, the interior walls haven’t had a coat of paint in years, the carpets could use a good cleaning—”
“We’ll have a work party.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“C-shift has a long weekend coming up. I’ll get everyone to pitch in.” He didn’t argue with her decision to sell the house. With only a small monthly income from Ray’s pension and few other resources, that sounded like a reasonable decision. “The guys can sandblast the outside, paint and redo the trim, while the wives are working on whatever needs doing inside.”
“I couldn’t ask—”
“Of course you can.”
“They were all so kind when Ray died—bringing casseroles, watching the children while I made arrangements. I can’t ask—”
“They’ll all be glad to help out now, too. They’ve probably been waiting to be asked to do something useful. You’ll see.” Logan couldn’t ask them directly. He was still afraid they’d see the truth about Ray’s fateful day in his eyes. But he could go to Chief Gray. When he found out Janice was in trouble, he’d get the men and their families to step forward. Logan could keep his distance. No one would realize he was trying to make amends for his lack of judgment.
One of the boys kicked the ball, and it came sailing full force right toward Janice’s head. Logan reached out to fist it away goalie-style.
She gasped, belatedly ducking.
“Easy, fellas. That’s a really important part of the lady’s anatomy.” He touched her arm gently in a reassuring gesture—both to tell her that she was safe and that she wasn’t alone—though he would have liked to do far more. Not a good idea, considering the circumstances and the youthful audience. But he couldn’t get the memory of holding her out of his mind. She’d felt so good, so right, snuggled up close to him. She’d fit in other ways too, ways he didn’t dare contemplate in specific detail, not in front of the same pre-adolescent audience.
“The guys are getting restless,” he said. “Let’s run them through some defensive drills.”
She nodded, gratitude in her eyes.
Damn, she was a strong woman. Not a lot of people—men or women—could take as many blows as she’d had to absorb lately and keep on standing. The fact that she kept fighting back was even more admirable.
As the practice progressed, Logan tried to focus on the kids’ skills, making mental notes of which positions they’d fill best. That was no easy task. Watching Janice encouraging the boys, giving them quick hugs, and being instinctively loving was a distraction.
So was the way her tank top bared her shoulders to the sun, providing a target he had a desperate urge to kiss. Just a quick brush of his lips to feel their softness. A tiny bite to taste the sweet-salty flavor of her skin.
When they sent the boys on a final lap of the playing field, Logan went with them. He needed to work off a mountain of tension. He doubted one lap would do it.
After the players had left the practice field, and Logan was stuffing the soccer balls in their bags, he felt a tug on his shorts. Maddie’s tiny, muddy hand, had grabbed hold of the hem.
“Hey, sprite, what’s going on?”
“Can you bring Buttons to kenner-garden when you visit?”
“Uh, I don’t know. You’re sure it’s okay?”
“Miss Sebastian said so. Charlie Greene is bringing his iguana. Buttons is lots prettier.”
“I guess I’d have to agree with that.” Fortunately, taking Buttons into a classroom wouldn’t be a problem. The dalmatian often went along on fire-prevention visits to local schools and got far more attention from the students than the firefighter who accompanied the dog. “I’ll check with the chief, okay?”
She beamed him a smile as if she’d known all along he’d do anything she asked of him. When she grew up, she was going to drive the boys crazy.
THE NEXT DAY at the fire station, Logan showered following the morning physical training session, then dressed and headed toward the chief’s office. Councilwoman Evie Anderson waylaid him in the hallway. An attractive widow in her sixties, she showed up more frequently at the station than her position on the city council would warrant. Logan and the other firefighters figured she had a thing going for the chief, who was also widowed. They weren’t equally convinced Harlan Gray reciprocated the councilwoman’s feelings.
She extended a plate of homemade date-nut squares toward him. “Try one of these, dear boy. They tell me you’re the best cook in the department. I’d value your opinion. It’s a new recipe I’m trying. Harlan mentioned he liked dates.”
Logan swallowed hard. Based on past experience, he suspected Mrs. Anderson’s recipe book had been written by the authors of Arsenic and Old Lace. “Gosh, Mrs. Anderson, I’ve been trying to watch my sugar intake—”
“Oh, nonsense. That’s what Harlan is forever telling me. You boys are all in such good shape, a little sugar won’t hurt you. Besides, these are sugar-free.” Selecting a cookie, she pressed him to take it. “One bite, just to see if it’s all right. Ever since I hit my head slipping on the city hall steps, I feel like I’m leaving ingredients out of my recipes. And my taste buds just aren’t as reliable as they used to be.”
With a sigh, he took the cookie. Sacrifice was supposed to be good for the soul, he reminded himself grimly.
He took the tiniest bite he thought he could get away with. It stuck to the roof of his mouth. “Chewy,” he commented.
“But how does it taste?”
With a heroic effort, he swallowed and stopped himself from wincing at the bitter aftertaste. “Ma’am, is it possible you substituted baking powder for baking soda?”
“Well, I don’t know…they did seem to puff up a bit. Maybe I read the recipe incorrectly.” Her pale-blue eyes widened. “Oh, dear, if I did they’d taste terrible.”
Honesty was not necessarily a virtue, in this case, but he didn’t know how to avoid it. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her eager expression crumbled, the deep creases around her mouth formed by her perpetual smile vanished. “I’ve been thinking about having my eyes checked, but
I’ve always been so vain about wearing glasses.”
“You’d look very attractive in glasses, ma’am. Distinguished.”
“Truth is, I’d rather be thought of as alluring by a certain gentleman. I haven’t managed that little trick yet.” She struggled to smile again. “At least you saved me the embarrassment of forcing these cookies on Harlan and the rest of you boys. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am. I’m sure if you try again using baking powder they’ll be fine.”
She patted his arm, blue veins mapping the back of her hand. “Such a sweet boy. It’s reassuring for the city to know brave young men like you are on the job protecting us.”
“All part of the job, ma’am.” He edged away from her. “If you’ll excuse me…” Giving her a wave of his hand, he hurried down the corridor, glad to have escaped without hurting Mrs. Anderson’s feelings too much…and without getting himself poisoned.
He rapped on the chief’s door, entering when he heard the command, “Come in.”
“Got a minute, chief?”
“Sure.” Harlan looked past Logan’s shoulder. “Unless you’re delivering a plate of cookies,” he said under his breath.
Logan swallowed a smile. “No, sir. I believe the plate went back home again for a second try. Seems she didn’t quite have the ingredients right.”
With a sigh, the chief leaned back in his chair. Except for a file folder, a yellow pad of paper, some pencils and a photo of his family, his walnut desk top was clear of clutter.
“Thank goodness,” he said. “Evie is the best-intentioned woman I’ve ever known, but I swear she’s determined to give us all food poisoning.”
“The men are pretty well onto her. I think we’re safe.”
“But am I?” he muttered under his breath.
“You might consider, if she shows up wearing glasses one of these days, uh, saying something nice about how they look on her. I think it might improve her cooking.”
“Really?” His brows shot up, and he laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, what can I do for you, Strong?”
“It’s about Janice Gainer, Ray’s wife.”
Chief Gray immediately sobered. “Hell of a tragedy. I don’t like losing my men.” He leaned forward again, picked up a pencil and toyed with it. His graying brows pulled together and he looked directly into Logan’s eyes. “How are you coping since the accident?”
“Fine, sir. Just fine.”
The chief’s eyes narrowed. “We can get you some counseling, Strong, if you’re still having—”
“I’m not having any problems. I’m just concerned that Janice, Mrs. Gainer, is facing some difficulties. I thought the men would like to help.”
“Why don’t you ask them yourself?”
“It’d be better if it came from you, sir.”
“Listen, Logan, I know you’re planning to take the engineers’ test, and you’re well qualified. But lately you’ve been distancing yourself from the other men. That’s not good if you want to move up in the ranks—and it could have an impact on the promotion list.”
Logan struggled not to flinch—or argue. Damn it! He wanted that promotion. Needed it. His father didn’t want anyone to know, but his retirement hadn’t been all that voluntary. He had cancer. Big time. More than anything, Logan wanted that engineer’s badge before his father died. He wanted his dad to know another member of the Strong family was moving up the departmental ranks in Paseo. Logan’s brother felt the same way about his promotion in Merced. A family tradition.
But he couldn’t tell anyone—not even the chief—what had happened that day on the roof.
When Logan remained quiet, the chief said, “During the debriefing you didn’t shed much light on what caused the incident. Have you remembered anything since?”
“Everything was moving pretty fast.” And what Logan did know would destroy Ray’s image as a hero in the eyes of the department—and in the eyes of his children. Logan wasn’t going to do that. Though knowing what a mess Ray had left his wife in, Logan figured that was more than the man deserved.
Not looking entirely pleased with Logan’s evasive response, the chief nodded. “What seems to be Mrs. Gainer’s problem?”
“She’s going to have to sell her house.” He went on to explain a few of Janice’s problems as well as the need to spruce up the house.
“The death benefits ought to have covered—”
“They weren’t enough to handle the debts.”
The chief’s scowl deepened. Swiveling, he checked the calendar on the wall behind his desk with the color-coded indication of what days which shift was on duty, then swung back. “C-shift and A-shift are off next weekend. I’ll spread the word Mrs. Gainer needs help. Tell her I’ll pick up the tab for paint, whatever it costs.”
“I’d already planned to handle that personally, sir.”
Harlan’s brows slowly rose. “Are you two—”
“Ray was a fellow firefighter. That makes her a member of the family.”
Logan wasn’t sure the chief bought that line; he appeared to suspect something more was going on.
There wasn’t, Logan told himself a few minutes later as he went upstairs for lunch. He didn’t dare allow there to be.
The rest of C-shift parted for him like the Red Sea as he walked into the kitchen to scoop up what was left of a pasta chicken salad and find himself a roll. He’d been keeping his distance for so long, the men had begun to do the same. So much so, it might cost him the promotion he coveted. He tried not to worry about that.
The important thing was to get Janice some help fixing up the house so she could get a decent price for the place.
“MOM? Are you busy?”
With a sense of relief, Janice turned from the daunting task of cleaning out Ray’s side of the closet to find out what her son wanted. She knew her reprieve wouldn’t last long. With the necessity of selling the house soon, she’d have to box up a lot of her past. It wasn’t going to be easy, and she wasn’t looking forward to any new discoveries of Ray’s infidelity.
“I thought you were getting ready for bed,” she said, noting Kevin was still fully dressed. She’d tucked Maddie under the covers an hour ago.
“I was, but I had a question I wanted to ask.”
That sounded serious since nine-year-old boys sought most of their answers from their peers. Or maybe their fathers.
Sitting on the edge of her king-size bed, she patted a spot beside her. He plopped down, letting his legs swing free.
“What did you want to know?” Mentally she ran through her store of knowledge on male anatomy and puberty. Wasn’t Kevin too young for—
“Logan and Dad were friends, weren’t they?”
Her brain skidded to a halt as she changed directions. “They rode together on the ladder truck for the past couple of years,” she answered cautiously, unsure where this conversation might lead.
“Then do you think Dad would mind if I started to like Logan? You know, as a guy?”
Her heart did an unexpected tumble. She hadn’t realized how eager her son was to have a masculine role model in his life. “I’m sure your father would be very pleased for you to have another man to look up to.”
“He’s pretty cool. Logan, I mean.”
She smiled. “Yes, he is.”
“You like him?”
More than she ought to. “He’s been very kind to us,” she hedged.
“Yeah.” The boy hopped off the bed. “I just didn’t want to do anything that would make Dad mad, you know?”
She snared him by the hand before he could leave. “Honey, you can’t make your father angry no matter what you do. He’s gone. What you have to do now is listen to your own heart. If you like Logan and want to look up to him, then that’s exactly what you do. He’s a fine man.”
Kevin gave her an embarrassed, little-boy smile and shrugged. “I guess.”
“Come here, young man.” Tugging him closer, she hugged him. “I love you, Ke
vin.”
“Love you, too, Mom.” Quickly getting his fill of maternal affection, he squirmed away and ran from the room. His footsteps pounded heavily down the hallway, then his bedroom door slammed behind him.
Janice winced. It was so easy to give her son advice. Not so easy to listen to it herself.
She pressed her fist against her midsection as a mixture of grief, anger and confusion welled up in her. To her dismay, the grief she felt was more because of the loss of her dreams than the death of her husband, her anger more for her children than herself.
The other emotions she’d been experiencing of late were far more difficult to define—her feminine awareness of Logan on every level from lust to admiration. Her need to be independent at exactly the same moment she wanted to throw herself into his arms and weep.
Her fear that she wouldn’t be able to support and protect her children.
This was not the time in her life to develop a relationship with a man, even assuming Logan would be interested. She was too vulnerable. Too much was changing too fast.
But dear heaven, it would be so much easier if she, like Kevin, could take her own advice and simply listen to her heart.
MADDIE’S SMALL HAND slid into Logan’s as they stood in front of the kindergarten class, Buttons beside him, tail wagging. The rest of the students were sitting on the floor, most of them cross-legged, looking up at them. A few couldn’t manage to sit still for two seconds.
“This is Logan Strong,” Maddie said in a big, five-year-old voice. “He’s special ’cause he’s a firemens. Buttons is special, too, and I’m gonna get one of his wife’s babies.”
“Puppies,” Logan corrected. He and Janice had explained to Maddie that Buttons and Suzie were “married” lest she start asking questions that were too difficult to answer.
Maddie jutted out her chin in a stubborn gesture not unlike her mother’s. “It’s the same thing.”
“Thank you, Maddie,” Miss Sebastian said. “We appreciate having Firefighter Strong and Buttons visit our class. Now who else would like to introduce their special person?”
So much for Daddy show-and-tell, Logan thought with a grin. He resumed his seat next to Maddie, the low chair forcing him to pull his knees up practically to his chin. Buttons curled up comfortably beside him. Despite Logan’s awkward position, he couldn’t remember feeling so proud. He liked the idea of being Maddie’s daddy, if only for an hour or so.
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