Violet pinched Max’s cheek as if he’d just become her eleventh grandchild. “My pleasure, Hot Wheels.”
“I may just have to learn to knit this summer when school’s out,” Heather offered.
“Why wait? Melba’s a great teacher, and we could use a few more of your age anyhow.” Violet raised an eyebrow at Max. “What about you? You could give knitting a whole new kind of style.”
Heather pictured Max with yarn and needles and burst out laughing just as Max vigorously shook his head. “I’ll pass,” he said. “I’m not ready for that kind of adventure.” He took Heather’s hand. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got some celebratory pie to eat. And thanks again. You’re one awesome grandma.”
Violet preened. “One awesome grandma. Maybe I can figure out a way to get that on my license plate like you do. Go on, hon. Go eat pie with your sweetheart.”
Heather felt as if her cheeks were burning as she sat at the table Karl had already cleared for Max. The whole restaurant was watching them. Max would always draw attention wherever he went. Was she ready for that? Could she ever grow accustomed to standing out like this with him? He took her hand across the table, his expression warm and encouraging as if he could read her worries. He nodded toward their audience, who were peering over menus or casting glances over coffee mugs or even flat-out staring. “Maybe I could learn not to stand out quite so much, huh?”
She shook her head. “You?”
He gave her a heart-melting look. “I’d do it. For you.”
Goodness, but the man could ooze charm. “Don’t change. Don’t you dare fade into the background.”
A little boy walked up to the table and pointed to Max’s wheels. “Are you a Transformer? Like on TV?”
His mom immediately planted her hands over the boy’s mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“Nah,” Max said, smiling. “It’s okay, really.” He angled out from under the table. “I’m just a guy like you, only my legs don’t work as well as yours, so they need a little help. But I can do a few neat tricks.” Max shifted his feet to make room on the footrest, the same as he had done for Heather that night. “Here—hop on for a second and I’ll show you.”
The boy looked up at his mom, who gave a cautious nod. “It’ll be fine,” Heather added, seeing the mom’s worry. “I’ve done it.”
Max told the boy where to hold on, then wheeled out into the aisle and did a series of spins that sent the little guy into a torrent of happy giggles. He has such a gift for this, Heather thought. How good it was to admire Max as much as she loved him.
“I can ride bikes like you.” Max’s voice held a tenderness she hadn’t seen in him before. She remembered the hurt in his eyes when the little girl had stared the last time they were in Karl’s. That edge was gone. “I like ice cream the same as you, and I have favorite TV shows just like you. We’re the same in more ways than we’re different. Don’t you think?”
“’Cept you gots a girlfriend. I’m too young for that.”
Max stared at Heather, holding her gaze with nothing short of a smolder as he spun the boy one last time. “I sure do. And don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get your chance one day with a smile like you’ve got. Hey, what’s your name, sport?”
“Theo.”
“You go to school here, Theo?”
Theo nodded. “Yep.”
“Well, maybe I can come to your class one of these days and show you all my cool wheel toys. Would you like that?”
Heather’s heart swelled when Theo’s eyes lit up. “Sure!”
“I’ve got another friend named Simon who is in a wheelchair, too. Okay if he comes along?”
The vision of Max and Simon visiting a kindergarten classroom practically reduced Heather to tears. She grabbed Max’s hand as he returned to the table. “Don’t you dare change. Don’t you dare tone it down, ever.” She swiped a tear from her burning cheek. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”
Max laced his fingers through hers. “Things? Plural? Good. Let’s get some pie and you can tell me all of them.”
Epilogue
“Why are we stopping at the firehouse?” Heather asked as JJ pulled into the station driveway after they’d had lunch after church one Sunday afternoon.
JJ undid her seat belt. “Max texted and I told him I’d swing by and drop you off.”
The February day was unseasonably warm, and Max had made plans to shoot hoops with some of the firemen off shift. The game they played wasn’t quite basketball, but some sort of game they’d dreamed up to accommodate Max’s sitting versus their standing. He’d explained it to her twice and she’d even sat and watched the day Simon joined in, but she still didn’t get it. It didn’t really matter—it was fun and Max had developed deeper friendships with several of the GFVFD force. Max’s Element in the corner of the drive now boasted an I Support GFVFD sticker on his back window like nearly every other car in town.
She knew the basketball hoop was out back, but that didn’t explain why the bay was empty. Usually there was always someone cleaning trucks or washing equipment, but no one could be seen.
“They’re probably in there somewhere. Let’s go find them.”
Heather and JJ pushed through the station doors, Heather wondering if they always kept the lights off like this. Wasn’t there supposed to be someone on-site all the time? “Max?” Heather called. “Are you in here?”
“Back here.” Max’s voice came from the dining room, but she still saw no lights on from over that way.
JJ began flicking light switches as they went until she finally reached the doorway and threw the switch that bathed the dining hall in light.
Revealing Max amid a dozen or so firefighters standing at attention in full dress uniforms behind him.
“Down!” came Chief Bradens’s command as he stood directly behind Max.
In perfect unison, the entire department removed their hats and got down on one knee. Heather grabbed the chair next to her for support.
“Since I lack the ability to do this the traditional way, I thought I’d make do with a few extra resources.”
He moved toward Heather just as JJ removed Heather’s hand from the chair and guided her down to sit in it.
“Max...”
“Hang on,” Max interrupted, his smile a mile wide and a bit nervous at the same time. “You’ll get your turn in a minute.” He reached behind him on the chair and produced a small black velvet box.
Heather tried to remember how breathing worked and Max moved up right next to her, picking up her left hand and smiling at the fact that she was shaking like a leaf.
“Heather Browning, I’d like very much to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?”
Her powers of speech left the building. She nodded once, then several times, finally choking out a “Yes!” that sent the firemen into thunderous applause and hoots of victory.
Suddenly, more faces appeared from out of the kitchen. Alex smiled and whooped as loud as the firemen. Melba—now fully showing with baby Maria—ran over to give Heather a hug. Heather’s mom came out of the kitchen already in full cry mode. Max’s mother kissed her son and then kissed Heather, too. Within seconds the room was filled with people she knew and loved—half of Gordon Falls had been in on this, it seemed. Simon—entering his second month back at school—was there, as were his parents. Margot, Violet, Pastor Allen and even Karl.
Tonight, she didn’t find she minded being the center of attention at all. Not with Max at her side, not even when Jesse Sykes began crooning the Motown song “Me and Mrs. Jones,” earning him a cuff from JJ.
“We’ve gotta get that boy a girl,” Clark Bradens moaned.
“I’m working on it,” Melba replied. “He’s a bit...outlandish, you know?”
“Sometimes,�
�� Heather offered, “those are the very best men of all.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from BLUE RIDGE REUNION by Mia Ross.
Dear Reader,
Max hounded me until I gave him his own story. This is one of the great experiences for writers—when a story chases you relentlessly until you give it life. The minute Max showed up in The Firefighter’s Match (Gordon Falls, book 3), I knew he’d never settle for his role as a secondary character. What fun it was to give him a love like Heather Browning! I hope the delight I had in writing this tale comes through for you, dear reader. If this is your first visit to Gordon Falls, make sure you go back and find Falling for the Fireman (book 1) and The Fireman’s Homecoming (book 2), as well as The Firefighter’s Match (book 3). If you want to know more about the prayer shawl ministry, please email me at [email protected]. As always, you can reach me at my website, www.alliepleiter.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/pages/Allie-Pleiter/97112313209, on Twitter at twitter.com/alliepleiter or P.O. Box 7026, Villa Park, IL 60181—I love to hear from you!
Questions for Discussion
Have you had your life turned upside down by a tragedy? What have you brought away from that experience?
Do you agree or disagree with how Simon’s parents are handling his entry into high school?
Is there a gathering place like Karl’s Koffee in your community? What do you like about it? What don’t you like about it?
Max escapes on the Sea Legs. Where and how do you escape?
Have you ever been to a “happy funeral”? How does faith make such a thing possible?
Do you know anyone with Max’s in-your-face personality? What’s good about it? What’s not so good?
Is there someone in your high school memories who cared about you as much as Heather cares about Simon? What did they add to your life at that time?
Max says “the timing is way off” in his relationship with Heather. Have you had a relationship where the timing was “way off”? What happened?
If Simon had shown up angry on your doorstep, what would you have done?
School bullies are a complex problem to solve. What has been your experience? What’s worked? What hasn’t?
Do you have a Violet Sharpton in your community? What’s she (or he) like? What gifts do they bring?
How has faith helped you overcome the present and past obstacles in your life?
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.
Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!
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Chapter One
Chelsea Barnes really hated Mondays.
Especially Mondays like this, when the July sunshine and warm breeze tempted her to stay home from work and enjoy the beautiful summer day. But her father had taught her that people who played hooky never amounted to anything, so she refocused on the narrow two-lane road. Following it as it meandered under the leafy canopy of oaks, she kept an eye out for the turnoff she needed. Around a bend, she located the weathered sign dangling from one rusty hook: Barrett’s Sawmill, est. 1866.
She drove slowly down the pitted track, avoiding the largest ruts and hoping the pinging gravel didn’t take too much paint off her darling convertible. At the other end, she pulled up alongside a beat-up red pickup with the sawmill’s faded logo stenciled on the driver’s door. It was so old she wouldn’t be surprised to discover it had rolled off the assembly line when Henry Ford was still in charge.
Seeing it here was odd, she thought as she stepped from her car. While reading through the loan application file, she’d gotten the impression the property had been abandoned since the Barretts closed down their bankrupt company ten years ago. She surveyed the place with a glance but didn’t notice anyone. What she did see was the millhouse, stubbornly clinging to the bank of the creek that once powered its waterwheel and looking every minute of its considerable age.
Deciding it was best to get this over with quickly, she shouted, “Hello? Is anyone here?”
Her greeting unleashed an unmistakable baying, and a huge red bloodhound came bounding from a nearby grove of trees, ears flapping as he made a beeline for Chelsea.
He wasn’t snarling or showing his teeth, but she’d rather not find out the hard way that he wasn’t friendly. Keeping her eyes fixed on him, she retreated to her car and fumbled behind her for the door handle.
Unable to locate it, she scrambled onto the hood. “Hello? A little help out here!”
No one appeared, but a commanding voice boomed from inside. “Boyd, that’s enough!”
Instantly, he dropped to a sitting position, wagging his tail on the ground while his tongue lolled from his mouth in a sloppy welcome. Reassured, Chelsea eased herself to the ground and looked up to find the dog’s owner strolling down the rickety porch steps toward the driveway. No, she groaned inwardly. She hadn’t seen him in ages, but she instantly recognized that cocky walk, those long, powerful legs and impossibly broad shoulders.
Paul Barrett. Valedictorian, captain of any team he played on, dream date of every cheerleader at Barrett’s Mill High School. In other words, the bane of her teenage existence.
What on earth was he doing here? Last she knew, he was in Kansas somewhere, doing whatever appealed to him at the time. It had never occurred to her that when her father had said his bank was doing a favor for the Barretts, Paul would be involved. Arrogant and unpredictable as a summer storm, here he was, smiling at her as though they were old friends. Which, of course, they weren’t.
But standing here in front of the rustic building, surrounded by acres of trees, she grudgingly admitted he’d gotten better looking over the years. When he smiled, that opinion only deepened. Then he started talking.
“Chelsea Lynn Barnes,” he drawled, his dark eyes crinkling as he squinted into the sun. “What’s a classy girl like you doin’ out here in the sticks?”
Just like that, her earlier annoyance returned, and she had to bite her tongue to keep back a sharp response. The fact that she’d been wondering the exact same thing had nothing whatsoever to do with her reaction. While her father had framed this trip as a personal favor to him, she couldn’t quite shake the suspicion that she’d drawn this assignment for no reason other than that she was the only one on his staff who knew how to get to this map-dot town buried in Virginia’s Blue Ridge mountains. Taking a calming breath, she reminded herself this was business and she had to maintain a professional demeanor. Even if it killed her.
Sliding a business card from the outside pocket of her slim briefcase, she replied, “I’m a commercial loan officer for Shenandoah Bank and Trust in Roanoke. I’m doing the property appraisal for the loan you requested.”
Next time, she vowed silently, she’d read a prospective client’s file more carefully. If she’d done that this morning, she could’ve braced herself to see Paul instead of getting blindsided like this.
He took the card and eyed her skeptically, then grinned. “What’s the punch line?”
People frequently did this to her, assuming she was too young to handle so much responsibility. With anyone else, she’d have taken the slight in stride. But Paul had rubbed her the wrong way from the day they’d been tossed into the same kindergarten class, seeming to delight in pushing her buttons.
She pulled herself up to her full height and gave him her coolest look. “I assure you, I’m well qualified to make financial recommendations to the bank.”
“Daddy’s bank.” Plunging grease-stained hands into the front pockets of jeans that had seen better days, he rocked back on the heels of his battered work boots. “How do you like working for him?”
No one had ever asked her that, probably because they assumed her current position was a cakewalk. Having known Theo Barnes all her life, she was better acquainted with his impossibly high standards than anyone. There were days when she wondered if she’d ever meet them, as either his daughter or his employee.
Shunting that grim thought aside, she said simply, “It’s going well.” Of course, her answer depended on which day you asked her. Today, for instance, she wasn’t all that crazy about it, but there was no way she was sharing that with Paul.
He gave her a long, assessing look that told her absolutely nothing about what was going through his mind. Not that she cared on a personal level, of course. It would just be nice to know so she could plan her next move and keep ahead of him. That was the mistake she’d made all through high school, she’d realized over the years. She’d never had the upper hand, and he’d beaten her out of more awards—twelve, to be precise—than he should have.
While they stared at each other, the wind ruffled his unruly brown hair, and she couldn’t help noticing the lighter streaks running through it. Judging by his tanned face, he still spent a lot of time outside, and he probably felt totally at home in these untamed acres of woods surrounding the mill. While she preferred well-groomed men with a sense of style, she couldn’t deny that Paul had his own raw appeal.
For other women, she amended quickly, yanking her errant thoughts back from where they had no business going. “Are you the new owner of the property?”
“Yup.”
Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2 Page 41