“That’s it? Your reason? Or is there more?” A slow fury was building inside him. She was ready to jettison not only him, but worse than that, herself.
“Th . . . that’s it.”
“If you think that’s what I see when I look at you, you’re dreaming. I don’t see a failure or some kind of overconfident superwoman. I see a woman who I haven’t been able to forget for three years—a woman who doesn’t have to do anything but exist to make me want her. A woman who’s so beautiful my eyes hurt from staring. A woman I want to talk to, and make love to, and sleep next to. You’re not a failure. You’re a beautiful, smart, compassionate woman who’s taken some blows. Why does that mean you have to lock yourself in your little tower room and throw away the key?”
“I . . . I’m not throwing anything away.”
“You’re throwing us away.”
“But—”
“Take a look around you. We’re on a little fishing boat in the middle of an ocean that’s trying to drown us, in a rainstorm trying to do the same, with a woman who could give birth at any moment. Do you think this is safe?”
Melissa piped up with a sound of alarm, but Jeb barreled right over her. “No, it’s not safe. It’s life.”
Chapter Eleven
* * *
AS IF EMPHASIZING Jeb’s point, a curling wave swept across the deck, splashing a huge amount of shockingly cold water in Nita’s face. She squeezed her eyes shut and hunched her body against the force of it. When she opened them again, she saw Jeb braced protectively over Melissa. His back was completely drenched. Melissa shivered violently.
“Everyone okay back there?” Charlie called.
“Nita, can you crawl into the wheelhouse and ask if he has any extra gear we can use?”
Nita did as he suggested, making her way on hands and knees into the little wheelhouse. Standing up seemed much too risky. She came back with an extra rain jacket made from thick orange rubbery material. Jeb draped it over Melissa, and they spent the rest of the wild trip huddled together in the corner of the fishing boat. No more talking. That was fine with Nita; Jeb had already given her enough to think about.
When they reached the wharf, the boat riding up against the pilings, Melissa finally opened her eyes. Even though the harbor was much calmer than the wild open ocean, the waves still tossed them around like a bath toy.
“We made it,” Melissa gasped, as Nita and Jeb helped her to her feet. “Where’s Brody?”
“He’ll be here soon,” Nita told her, hoping to God it was true.
Melissa let out a wrenching sob. “I need him. I need Brody.” The words were like a primal cry ripped from her heart. Nita felt tears run down her own face.
Jeb steered Melissa toward the gunwales of the boat. His brisk tone acted like a tonic. “No losing it now, Melissa. Brody’s meeting us at the hospital. We have to get you off this boat so we can find him. Now say goodbye to Charlie.”
Charlie finished fastening the lines to cleats on the wharf, and hurried to join them. “Sorry it was a bit rough out there. On Santa Lucia we say it’s good luck to be born during a storm.”
Melissa’s face, drenched with tears and ocean spray, brightened. “We’ll name the baby Hurricane or something. Stormcloud.”
“Seasick’s a pretty word, if you don’t think about the meaning,” Nita threw in. Melissa laughed, which Nita considered a personal triumph. Jeb shot her a grateful smile, which made her feel like a million bucks.
An ambulance, lights flashing, swung into view. Two paramedics jumped out and dashed toward them. Jeb waved them over, and gave them a quick rundown in medical jargon while Nita supported Melissa.
Then they were whisking her off. Nita’s last glimpse of Melissa was of her white face and brave wave. “See you at the hospital,” she called to her. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Charlie shoved aside his oilskins and dug in his pocket. “Take my car,” he told them. “It’s the old yellow mustang parked around the corner.”
“Charlie,” Jeb began, then broke off as a powerful emotion gripped him. He swallowed, cleared his throat, then tried again. “You did good. Real good.”
“Yeah?” The kid’s face lit up. “Even compared to a real fireman?”
“You are real. Real as anyone. If you ever need anything, you call me. If you come to San Gabriel, first round’s on me. And the second. In fact, don’t even bother to bring your wallet.”
Charlie grinned. “Who are you kidding? You won’t be able to stay away from San-L. You can buy me a shot at Old Mort’s. I gotta get back out and see what kind of mess the guys are dealing with. Leave my car keys with the harbormaster if you aren’t coming back.”
With a last wave, he jumped back on his boat. Nita watched him go, blinking away her own tears. That cheerful young sprig of a man had saved them. But Jeb had made it possible. Without Jeb . . . she shuddered. She didn’t even want to think about that.
“Come on,” he said now, grabbing her hand. “I don’t know when Brody’s going to get here, and Melissa needs familiar faces. You ready?”
She nodded. Maybe she ought to feel awkward, since she didn’t really know where they stood, she and Jeb, after that conversation on the boat. But she didn’t feel awkward. The only thing she felt was gratitude for his quick-thinking, rock-solid presence, and pure happiness to be holding his hand.
He didn’t let go much at all during the drive to the County Hospital. Only when he had to shift gears or make an extreme turn. They stayed latched together, unwilling to lose contact, as they located the hospital, parked, and made their way into the emergency room. The charge nurse directed them to the maternity ward.
“That means it’s really happening,” Jeb murmured. “The baby’s coming. Brody better get here soon.”
AN HOUR LATER, Brody burst into the waiting room of the maternity ward, waking Nita from her exhausted slumber against Jeb’s shoulder. Anchored by Jeb’s arm, surrounded by the scent of his leather jacket and the ocean salt drying on his body, she’d slipped into a delicious sleep. But the wild-eyed man who careened into the hospital lounge changed all that.
“Stone!” He practically leaped across the room. His hair stood up from his head in all directions. Nita had always known Brody as a powerfully contained, calm sort of man. She’d never seen this side of him. “Where is she? How’s she doing? What did the doctor say?”
“She’s fine. Premature membrane rupture, she’s been in labor for about two hours. They said you should go in as soon as you get here. She’s been asking for you every two minutes.”
“Thank God. I’m going.” He turned, then spun back around and yanked Jeb into a hard hug. “I owe you, man.”
“No you don’t. What are brothers for?”
“I’ll never forget this.”
Then it was Nita’s turn. Brody hugged her too, then speared her with that intense charcoal-gray gaze. Suddenly she felt like a bedraggled duckling with her damp hair hanging down her back. “Thanks for taking care of my heart,” he said seriously. Then he was gone, leaving Nita to sink back into the chair next to Jeb and ponder his phrasing.
His heart. Melissa was his heart, his core. He must have been terrified of losing her. Melissa must feel something similar every time she watched Brody head to the fire station. Storms, fires, accidents . . . anything could happen. But that didn’t keep Brody and Melissa from loving each other with all their hearts.
Jeb was right. Avoiding love might keep her safe. But was that the life she wanted?
She stole a sidelong glance at him. His legs were stretched to their full length, his head tilted back. His eyes were closed, those thick black eyelashes vulnerable against his cheeks. Soft snores riffled his nostrils. He’d worked so hard to get them here, to stand in for Brody, to keep Melissa safe and her spirits high. No wonder he was exhausted.
She curled up against him, even though the armrest between their two seats dug into her ribs. Her desire to be close to him kept growing with every second she spen
t with him. The shocking truth was . . . the shocking truth was . . . she’d fallen for him.
Maybe he didn’t want what she wanted. Maybe it was too soon for him to be in a relationship. But that was her overactive brain talking. Ask her heart, and none of that mattered. She’d fallen for him, and she’d have to take her chances.
As soon as they both woke up.
BUT WHEN SHE finally opened her eyes, there was a new baby boy to meet. She and Jeb, holding hands, stepped into the room where Melissa lay with a tiny bundle nestled on her shoulder. Brody had practically climbed into the hospital bed with her, and seemed completely unable to tear his eyes off his brand new son.
Melissa looked surprisingly chipper. “I’m going to recommend to all my friends that they take a boat ride through a storm right before they have their babies. It was such a relief not to be rocking around anymore, labor was almost a piece of cake. Almost,” she emphasized. She’d always been a very accurate reporter.
Nita drew close, marveling at the tiny creature’s deep, trusting sleep and miniature body parts. “Wow. Just look at him. He’s perfect.”
“He’s tough. Chip off the block, no doubt. He came a month early for no particular reason, and everything’s fine. No problems at all.” Her eyes swam with sudden tears. “Darn, I thought once the baby came I’d stop getting so emotional. No such luck. Sorry, Brody.”
“That’s all right. I think it’s catching.” Seemingly hypnotized, Brody lifted the tiny boy’s little finger with his own large one. The sight made Nita’s heart clench. This was one lucky baby, to have a father like Brody. She glanced at Jeb, and drew in a breath. His usually hard face had relaxed, his tiger eyes held a quiet, happy glow. And she realized that, in at least one respect, she was completely wrong about him. This man wouldn’t object to more children. Family was everything to him. Even when his wife discovered her attraction to women and divorced him, he still considered her family.
Suddenly tears began spilling down her cheeks in unstoppable streams. She swiped at them, caught Melissa’s concerned look, tried to speak, couldn’t. Finally she gasped, “Be right back,” and dashed for the hallway. She stumbled to the ladies’ room, shut herself in a stall, buried her head in her hands, and surrendered to the wrenching sobs.
The tears had finally caught up with her. She’d stayed one step ahead of them—using work, the senator’s crisis, Angie’s need for help, anything that came along. They’d dogged her all the way to Santa Lucia Island and back, through a media storm and a real one, until they cornered her in a county hospital bathroom.
So . . . fine.
She cried, and cried. She let the tears wash away her grief, her sadness. Let them honor her loss. Let them bear witness to her pain. Let them drown her need to succeed under a waterfall of emotion. Losing a baby didn’t make her a failure. Losing Bradford didn’t make her a failure. She’d never be perfect . . . and yet she was already perfect. Perfect as that little baby boy in there. Perfect as the baby who was never born. Perfect as the exhaustion on Melissa’s face, the love in Brody’s eyes. Perfect as the care of all the strangers who helped bring their child safely into the world.
Wounds and flaws didn’t make her less perfect. They made her more perfectly human.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom, eyes still puffy from tears, Jeb was waiting for her.
“Better?” he asked, after a long, thoughtful moment of scrutiny.
She nodded. And it was true. She did feel a bit better. Maybe it was thanks to the release of that storm of tears. Maybe helping Melissa bring her baby safely into the world had helped heal some of her own pain. Or maybe . . . slowly, softly, she raised a hand to Jeb’s cheek, and watched his eyes darken . . . maybe it was thanks to the magical presence of Jeb Stone. Blunt, honest Jeb, who knew how to face things head on.
Realizing she was staring at him with, very likely, an embarrassing amount of adoration, she tried to pull her gaze away. Then she stopped. No sense in hiding her feelings. And looking at him felt so good—like something she could do for a very long time.
He held her gaze without hesitation, which made her heart melt even more. Jeb would never back away, never leave her hanging. It wasn’t in his nature. A smile spread across her face. It felt like the sun breaking through after a long rainy season.
Jeb turned his head sideways to press a kiss into her palm. “I had a thought,” he told her in a gruff voice.
“What’s that?”
“I was thinking that, after the dust settles and we get Melissa and Brody and the little guy squared away, we could continue our date.”
“Continue our date?” For a moment, she had no idea what he was talking about. The time when she didn’t know Jeb Stone seemed like a million years ago.
“Sure. And I know exactly where we can go.”
Chapter Twelve
* * *
Pacific Ocean—Two months later
SANTA LUCIA ISLAND spread across the horizon like an enormous sage-green whale. Jeb sheltered Nita within the circle of his arms as they leaned on the railing of the Danny B. The scent of her hair, sweet as orange blossoms, mingled with the brisk saltiness of the ocean breeze. The flat Pacific sported an innocent air, as if to say, Who me? I had nothing to do with that crazy storm. Don’t blame me.
Jeb dropped a kiss on the top of Nita’s head. He could do that sort of thing now. Over the past two months they’d talked on the phone every day, often several times a day. He’d followed her job-hunting process, which she was conducting in a desultory manner that gave him some hope. If she wanted to stay in Los Angeles, he could live with that. He’d have to put in a transfer request, and probably drop back a level, but he’d made his peace with that possibility.
On the other hand, she’d visited him several times in San Gabriel, and loved it. But there wasn’t much demand for press secretaries in a little town like that. He recognized that she needed something to pour her energy and skills into. She could run the whole town, as far as he was concerned, though she didn’t seem inclined to stay in politics. But he’d be thrilled if she came to live in San Gabriel, as long as that’s what she wanted. So would Alison, who seemed to look at their relationship as her personal achievement. The words “prayer flag” and “chant” had come up a bit too much for Jeb’s comfort.
In his opinion, this miraculous new relationship had nothing to do with supernatural forces. It belonged to him and Nita. Well, maybe Melissa had something to do with it, since he’d followed her to Santa Lucia. And Brody, since he’d asked Jeb to follow her. Hell, maybe even Senator Stryker ought to be thanked for causing a scandal.
For sure, Melissa and Brody’s little boy, named Lucius, had been essential. He and Nita, as godparents, would never forget it.
Charlie, practically bouncing with excitement, met them at the wharf. “Guess what just happened. Seriously, guess.”
“Senator Stryker’s running for president,” suggested Nita.
“What?” He did a double take. “No. The fire chief quit! Well, he went into rehab and then wrote on his Facebook page that San-L has too many triggers and he’s not coming back.”
“Good,” said Jeb, shouldering his bag and following Charlie up the ramp. “You guys deserve a good chief.”
“We sure do.” He sent Jeb a significant look, then when he got no response, tried it again.
Jeb gave him a severe frown. “No.”
“All we ask is that you think—”
“No.”
“But why—”
“I’m on a date. I don’t like to think about work when I’m on a date.”
“But we’re desperate.” Charlie opened the Enchanted Garden’s Suburban and heaved their bags in the back. “The town council put an ad in the Help Wanted section and we’ve got nothing but wackos applying. Even Old Mort said he’d do it in a pinch.”
“They’re desperate,” Nita teased Jeb after they’d all settled into their seats. “They’re desperately seeking a fire chief. How can you
resist?”
“I can’t resist anything Nita says,” Jeb told Charlie. “Maybe I’ll come by the station later.”
The kid let out a wolf howl of delight. As they rattled up the road that led to the Enchanted Garden, he added, “When I heard you were coming, I thought it was for the job.”
“No. Melissa and her husband gave us this trip,” explained Nita. “They wanted us to come back to the island where it all began.”
“Interesting,” mused Charlie. “Very interesting.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see. I’m not saying anything else. Just that I bet Melissa’s been talking to a certain someone around here.”
Jeb and Nita shared a mystified glance. Charlie snapped his mouth shut and refused to say another word until they reached the Enchanted Garden. And then the sign posted on the lawn spoke for him. It could barely be read through the profusion of dahlias, a neon mélange of orange and yellow. But there it was: For Sale by Owner.
Nita’s eyes went wide as the flowers. “Angie’s selling the place?” She burst out of the van and ran to the front lawn. Angie emerged from the front door with a big soup pot. Just as she was about to ladle vegetable soup onto the marigolds, Nita stopped her with a gentle touch and said something Jeb couldn’t hear.
He grabbed their bags, waved goodbye to Charlie, and joined Angie and Nita. Angie didn’t seem to remember them. “Are you here about the ad I put in the paper? ‘Enchanted Garden Seeks Queen of the Flowers’?”
“I didn’t see it, but I have a feeling my friend did,” Nita told her. “I’m very interested, though. We’re staying for a few days, so we can talk more about it.”
So Nita was “very interested,” was she? Was she interested in knowing what he thought about it?
Desperately Seeking Fireman Page 10