The Firefighter's Christmas Reunion

by Christy Jeffries

  “Yes, but just the shows,” Sammy said in his soft voice. “I didn’t have the cards.”

  Choogie hooked an arm around the headrest and Hannah had to remind him to face forward. But sixty seconds later, the boy was turned around again. “You speak English really good. How long did it take you to learn it after you got here?”

  A dull ache started in her chest and she was about to tell Choogie to face forward again, but her son’s voice stopped her.

  “English is the official language of Ghana and that’s what we spoke at the children’s home where I used to live.” Sammy was used to having to give this response and he usually just left it at that. However, today he added, “I can also speak Akan, though, because most of the people in our village use it at the market and stuff.”

  “That’s cool. I was born in China and came to America when I was still a baby so I grew up learning English. One of my moms speaks Vietnamese and she taught me some words, but we don’t really speak it at home. Unless my grandpa comes to visit.”

  Hannah felt her shoulders relax against the driver’s seat. She was so on edge lately, expecting the worst from everyone, she’d totally forgotten that Choogie was adopted. His situation wasn’t exactly the same as Sammy’s, and the boy was a few years older, but maybe it would be good for Sammy to know that he wasn’t the only one in town with a unique family.

  “Do you guys know any bad words in a different language?” Aiden asked a bit too eagerly as they pulled into the parking lot behind the public safety building next to City Hall. “Our new mom speaks Spanish and one time I heard her say—”

  “No bad words,” Hannah interrupted, then pointed at all four boys, making sure she got a solemn nod of understanding from each. Although Sammy’s expression was more puzzled than anything else, and she made a mental note to have a separate talk with him about it tonight when they got home. The last thing she needed was for some parents to complain that their children were learning profanities from her son at school. Or from her nephews, for that matter.

  “Now, when we go inside the fire station, how are we going to behave?”

  “Like gentlemen,” the boys all repeated in unison. She’d given them this lecture before they’d even left the school grounds.

  “Are we going to ask a million questions?”

  “No,” they said.

  “Are we going to climb on the trucks or try on the firefighters’ clothes without permission?”

  “No.”

  She racked her brain for any other possible shenanigans her nephews could get up to. Remembering a time when she’d taken the boys for swim lessons at the YMCA in Boise, she added, “Are we going to sneak into their locker room and turn on all the shower nozzles at once to create a sauna?”

  “How do you know they even have showers?” Caden asked. “Have you been in them? Does Chief Jones allow girls in the boys’ locker room?”

  Hannah’s cheeks heated at the sudden thought of seeing Isaac in the shower. Of seeing just how muscular and broad his chest had become since she’d last seen it bare. Blowing a strand of loose hair off her forehead, Hannah sighed. “They have female firefighters, so I’m sure the ladies have their own locker room. And you may not sneak into there, either.”

  “Fine,” Aiden drawled out. “No locker rooms.”

  As they walked toward the entrance to the fire station, Hannah gave one last directive. “Remember that I’m here for a meeting with Chief Jones. The quicker I get done, the quicker we can go to Noodie’s Ice Cream Shoppe for sundaes.”

  The three older boys cheered, but Sammy didn’t seem as excited about her exit strategy. Probably because, if it were up to her son, he’d move into the firehouse and never leave.

  Ever since Hannah’d arrived at the orphanage in Ghana, Sammy had always wanted to remain close to her side—unless he was running somewhere. But now Isaac was the one her son wanted to follow around. Too bad Hannah wasn’t going to be there more than twenty minutes.

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes after Hannah arrived with her quartet of curious boys, Isaac was finally able to get her alone in his office and bring up the canned food drive. He leaned back in his chair as he spoke. “So, I figured we could put up some flyers, drop a few donation boxes around town, then deliver it all to the food bank before Thanksgiving.”

  But Hannah was barely paying him the slightest bit of attention as her neck twisted to look down the hall. “Are you sure the kids are okay in the kitchen with Jonesy and Scooter?”

  Isaac followed the direction of her gaze. Due to department staffing needs, the volunteer firefighters still came in to cover the occasional shift or to attend trainings. It was a blessed coincidence that the two older guys were also great with keeping kids busy. Isaac himself was a prime example of their patience with high energy youth. “Sure. My uncle will keep them in line. Besides, what’s the worst they can do in there? Start a fire?”

  But Hannah didn’t laugh.

  “See, that was a joke because we’re in a fire station surrounded by firefighters—”

  “Maybe we should talk someplace where my nephews are within eyesight.”

  Isaac sighed in frustration and leaned back in his desk chair. He’d been around the Gregson twins long enough to know that Hannah was probably right. But all he needed was five minutes in his office with her undivided attention. Then she could be on her way and this whole food drive would practically be over before they knew it.

  Which meant working with her would soon be over. Isaac wasn’t sure how to feel about that. After their dance at the VFW Hall, he was no longer quite so eager to avoid her. But then she’d sent those text messages earlier today implying she was still eager to avoid him.

  “Hannah, the boys are fine. It’ll take longer to get this knocked out if I have to answer any more questions about dalmatians. Or how hot a fire would have to be to char a zombie. Or why we need to have showers in the locker rooms here at the station.”

  A pink blush stole up Hannah’s cheeks, the same one that had appeared when he’d explained to Caden that the firefighters were on duty for twenty-four-hour shifts and so the fire station had to be like a second home for them.

  Isaac lifted his chin and studied her. The only reason a woman would blush like that when talking about showers was if she was thinking about who was taking one. He felt a knowing smile playing at the corners his lips.

  He stacked his hands behind his head as though he was perfectly at ease and relaxed, and not at all thinking about getting her naked in a shower—which he was. However, the motion drew her attention to his biceps and he felt the heat of her stare on his upper arms. He was tempted to flex his muscles—just enough to show off. After all, he’d worked hard enough to get them to look like this; he might as well enjoy impressing her with them. But the way she was staring was equally arousing, proving that their attraction to each other was still strong and still very much mutual.

  As rewarding as the realization was, a kernel of doubt gnawed at the back of his mind, reminding him of the last time he’d given in to that attraction. Could he let himself get close to her a second time and risk all that pain and heartbreak again?

  He looked at the blond bun twisted on the top of her head. He’d been haunted by that long silky hair for years after they broke up. How many times had he thought he’d seen Hannah on the campus at Yale or on a street in San Antonio when he’d initially been stationed at Fort Sam Houston, only to catch up to the woman with similar hair and find out it was a stranger?

  No. He couldn’t go through all of that again. Or, at least, he shouldn’t. Isaac brought his hands down, clasped his fingers in front of his stomach and watched as Hannah gave a slight shake of her head, probably coming back to her senses, as well.

  “Right,” she said in a throaty voice, before attempting a discreet cough. “You mentioned flyers and collection boxes. We’ll need
both of those, but there’s a little more to it than that.”

  “There always is a little more to it with you,” Isaac murmured.

  “What’s that?”

  Isaac cleared his throat. “What else do we need?”

  “Well, we need to set dates. And we have to call the local businesses to see who’s willing to have a box to collect the goods. Then we’ll want a social media presence so we can reach out to everyone who doesn’t see the flyers or needs a little more reminding. To be honest, I feel like we’re already cutting it close with only ten days until Thanksgiving. The families who are counting on the food will want to know what they’re getting in advance so they can plan their meals.”

  Nodding, Isaac had to concede that she really didn’t need him. The woman could, in fact, organize this event in her sleep. But he wasn’t about to admit as much.

  “Hmm. What else?” Hannah tapped her chin as she reached across his desk and grabbed the lined notebook he’d tossed there after the training class. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she began writing out a list.

  Isaac took advantage of the opportunity to blatantly study the woman who still had the power to make his pulse race just as quickly as it had when he’d been an eighteen-year-old, inexperienced youth. That soft, blond hair he’d dreamed about was falling out of the messy bun atop her head and her slender fingers scribbled furiously, making the muscles in her forearm flex.

  He was so deep in a trance, remembering the way those same arms had been wrapped around his neck a couple of nights ago, that he didn’t realize she’d stopped writing until he heard the paper tear in half.

  “Here. This is your to-do list.” She handed him one long strip, her fingers brushing against his. A current of heat ricocheted through him and he lost his grip, causing the paper to flutter down to his desktop. His arm was still extended toward her, yet he purposely waited for Hannah to retrieve the list, and this time he paid closer attention to her face when she passed it to him. Isaac needed to see if she had the same reaction to his touch as he did to hers. He also might’ve used his thumb to stroke slowly along her palm, tracing a light path to her wrist.

  The quivering of her bottom lip was ever so slight, but there was no way for her to disguise the scarlet color stealing up her cheeks as she stared at their joined hands. Yep, proud and headstrong Hannah Gregson was definitely flustered and a little turned on. Isaac’s chest expanded and the sheet of paper again fell to his desk.

  Hannah blinked several times before yanking her hand back. She made a move to pick up the list again, but must’ve thought better of it because she snatched the matching one closer to her, instead. She cleared her throat, but her voice was still raspy when she said, “And this one is mine. If you get too busy or bored or don’t have time or whatever, just let me know and I can cover for you.”

  At that, Hannah stood up and made a hasty exit, her tote bag bouncing against her rounded hip as she made her way back to the kitchen to collect her boys and leave without so much as a goodbye. Or an I told you so.

  * * *

  Looking around at the chocolate batter spilled all over the industrial kitchen counters, Hannah would’ve loved nothing more than to round up the four kids and head straight to the car, leaving the mess for someone else to clean. It didn’t help that her pulse was still throbbing, each beat pulsating against her left wrist where Isaac’s thumb had touched her skin moments ago. Unfortunately, an alarm on the wall let out a shrieking wail and the walkie-talkies attached to the firefighters’ belts crackled to life.

  Everyone in the station, including the boys, went into hyperdrive as they abandoned their mixing bowls and stirring spoons and ran toward the apparatus bay where the trucks were parked and the equipment stored. Hannah raced to keep up, not that there was anything she could do to help the firefighters or the paramedics besides keeping the overly inquisitive children out of their way.

  Oxygen pumped into her chest and adrenaline rushed through her veins as she entered the enormous garage-style area just as the sally port door was rolling up. Relief poured through her as she counted four small heads quietly lined up beside the bench where Isaac was stepping into his boots and turnout gear.

  When she arrived next to them, she heard the tail end of Isaac’s instructions to the boys. Something about not enough room for them in the fire engine this time.

  “Should we follow in our aunt’s car?” Aiden asked eagerly.

  “Nah. We’ll be back before you know it. The dispatcher thinks it’s just Mrs. Alvarez’s oven catching fire again.” Isaac turned in Hannah’s direction, his expression not showing the least amount of concern. “This happens every time Duncan’s Market has a sale on frozen pizzas. Mrs. Alvarez always forgets to remove the cardboard sheet underneath before baking them.”

  Hannah nodded silently, but her eyes were probably as round as Sammy’s. Although, her son’s eyes were wide with wonder and excitement whereas Hannah’s were filled with worry. Mrs. Alvarez’s granddaughter Monica, the town librarian, had been worried about the older woman showing signs of dementia. Hannah sent up a quick prayer that the fire wasn’t anything too serious.

  Isaac climbed into the front passenger seat—she recalled from their tour forty-five minutes ago that the seat had a special name but she’d been too busy watching Isaac’s full lips move as he’d talked to pay attention—and he shot the boys a thumbs-up as the diesel engine roared.

  Samuel held up his own smaller thumb, and Hannah put a protective arm around his shoulder. His little six-year-old body was all but vibrating with anticipation as the siren switched on and the fire engine rolled out.

  “We’ll close the garage door for you,” Choogie called out—unnecessarily, as the door had already begun its rolling descent behind the paramedics’ truck.

  She was left standing there. Alone in a fire station with four boys and no clue about what to do when the crew left on a call. Hannah pulled her cell out of her tote bag and sent a text message to Carmen, whose police department was on the other side of the building. Should they stay put? Should they let themselves out? Although that would be quite the adventure because they would have to wind their way through several empty hallways to find the same door they’d come in.

  Instead of a beeping from her phone indicating a reply text, Hannah heard a beeping come from the other side of the wall. Caden jumped off the bench. “The cake’s ready!”

  She followed the boys to the kitchen, relieved that someone had had the foresight to turn off the stove before responding to the alarm. She took the cake out of the oven, then, surveying the disaster all over the counters, Hannah knew that she couldn’t very well leave the chocolate batter mess for the crew to come back to.

  “Let’s try and finish in here and clean up,” she said, pulling the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows. Hannah’s nose wrinkled at the big pot of spaghetti sauce no longer simmering on the stove. Should it be lumpy like that?

  Giving each of the boys a task, she set to work boiling some water for the noodles so that the firefighters would have a nice dinner to come home to. The twins were at the sink, shoulder deep in soapy water, when Carmen finally walked in.

  “Mom!” the twins yelled in unison, and Hannah’s heart melted at how easily her nephews had taken to their soon-to-be stepmother. In fact, they had been the ones to set Luke and Carmen up in the first place. Glancing at Sammy, who was frosting the cake, Hannah wondered if his calling her Mama came just as easily to him.

  “I got off duty and swung by the dispatcher’s desk on the way over here.” Carmen spoke quietly to Hannah after she’d been wrapped in two sudsy hugs. “The blaze turned out to be bigger than usual and took out an entire wall in her kitchen.”

  “How’s Mrs. Alvarez?” Hannah bit her lips, not wanting to ask about Isaac although she suspected her eyes begged for any information about him, as well. “Is anyone hurt?”

 
; “Nobody got hurt. In fact, Mrs. Alvarez was in the back of the house and so oblivious to the fire that she offered the paramedics some slices of pizza when they were looking her over for injuries. But Monica, her granddaughter, is pretty shook up.”

  “I can imagine.” Hannah blew a loose strand of hair out of her face and wrapped an arm around her waist as though to give her diaphragm permission to take normal breaths.

  Carmen took the twins and Choogie away with her, but when Hannah told Sammy it was time for them to leave, her sweet son looked at her with pleading eyes that reflected an edge of nervousness and asked, “Can we stay to make sure that they get back okay?”

  Hannah glanced at the clock hanging over the stainless steel stove. She knew that she should say no—that she should stay as far away from Isaac as possible. Obviously, she couldn’t trust her body not to respond whenever he was near.

  “They might be gone awhile,” Hannah bluffed, unsure of how long this type of thing might take. Was there an investigation that would need to be done? Did they have to stay and interview witnesses? Knowing Isaac, he was probably staying longer to help clean up Mrs. Alvarez’s kitchen.

  “But what if they get back and Chief Jones doesn’t know where we went?” Sammy asked.

  More like, what if they got back and Chief Jones caught her blushing at him again? She thought of the way his hand had intimately touched her earlier, when she’d passed him the list, and then brightened at her sudden realization. “We can leave him a note!”

  Hannah all but skipped to Isaac’s office to get the notepad off his desk, but when she returned to the kitchen, her son was completely oblivious to how anxious she was to leave. He insisted on writing the note himself. However, his penmanship—which was normally above average for a kindergartener—wasn’t as perfect as he thought it should be.

  Sammy was carefully working on his third draft when she heard the rumbling of the diesel engine pulling into the apparatus bay. Hannah looked toward the ceiling as her stomach sank.