by Vivian Arend
“He’s good,” Brooke said.
Kelli breathed out heavily. “Good. I was worried when Ashton said gossip at the coffee shop was a couple of the firefighters had been injured.”
Brooke fought to keep from stiffening. Was Mack really okay? He would have told her if he wasn’t.
Wouldn’t he?
She twisted her lips into a smile and pushed forward. “I’m not staying for long. I’ve got presents…” She slowed and considered her words carefully as Emma Stone, all of nine years old, moved into earshot. “Some from me and some that Santa dropped off for safe keeping.”
Kelli’s eyes flashed with amusement. “We can take care of those.”
Tamara Stone ambled up, eight-month-old Tyler resting on her hip. “Haven’t seen you for a bit,” she said, leaning in to offer a one-armed hug. “I have a body ornament today. Kiddo is running a teeny bit of a temperature, so he’s in hyper-cuddle mode.”
“Poor kid.” Brooke ruffled the hair on the top of his head before she pulled the biggest present out of the bag on the table and offered it to Tamara. “For you. Purchased according to our chick-code.”
“White elephant? Useful, but no longer used?”
“Open it and see,” Brooke ordered.
Tyler chose that moment to thrust his arms toward Brooke. Which was how she ended up with a slightly sweaty infant cradled in her arms as Tamara hurried to deal with the newspaper-wrapped boxlike object.
“Get out.” Delight rang in Tamara’s voice. She turned to Brooke and deliberately pushed up her glasses. Pale green today, they matched the colour of her sweater. “This is a display rack for eyewear.”
“They were getting rid of the old one at the optometrists, and I was in the right place at the right time.” Brooke adjusted Tyler a little closer. “I hope there’s room for all of your collection.”
“I love it. Thank you.” Tamara hugged her tight, and in the whirl of activity that followed, Brooke found herself moving with the flow, still in possession of little Tyler.
He didn’t seem to mind. His big eyes examined her carefully, but then he laid his head on her chest and relaxed, watching the activity in the room with lazy interest.
Brooke found a spot to one side of the couch, content to watch the action herself as Tyler slipped into sleep. Conversations were happening and a puzzle was being worked on in the corner of the room. Kelli and Tamara had returned to the kitchen to join Lisa Coleman who was vigorously mixing something in a bowl, her little terrier wandering underfoot protectively.
There were a couple of adults playing cards, and another playing Jenga with the oldest of the children, Sasha.
A set of children rushed past, and then another, followed by their youngest uncle who was roaring like a bear. Music played, voices carried in small pockets, and they all seemed happy to have her there but none of them were worried they had to entertain her.
It was…family. Not like what she’d had growing up, but she felt comfortable in it, nevertheless. Yet as Tyler made a little cooing noise, wiggling tighter against her, something in Brooke’s heart ached.
She ended up sticking around for the morning, basking in the joy even as a hint of worry continued to nudge her. She said goodbye right before lunch, begging off joining them for the meal.
Brooke was just about at her truck when a waving hand caught her attention. “Yvette?”
Her new friend rushed to a stop, breathing heavily after her sprint from the barns. “If you’re headed to town, can I get a ride?”
“No problem.”
Out on the highway, Yvette explained, “I drove out with Josiah to deal with a task. This way he gets to stick around instead of driving me home then having to turn around and come all the way back.”
“Makes sense. You want your apartment?”
“No, the seniors lodge, please. I promised Mormor and Morfar I’d stop in.”
Which wasn’t a bad idea.
“Can I join you?” Brooke asked. Mack still hadn’t texted her, and she needed a distraction before she ended up racing over and demanding to inspect him from head to toe. “And what about lunch first, my treat?”
Yvette agreed and they headed to Buns and Roses for a quick meal. Relaxing and entertaining at the same time, because Yvette was keen to learn everything she could about Heart Falls. The conversation flowed smoothly, comfortably.
It reminded Brooke a lot of the early days of being with Mack. That had been easy, too. As if they belonged together and slid into a comfortable routine without even trying.
Rich friendships like that weren’t a thing to be taken for granted.
The lodge was fully decorated on the inside, but Brooke smiled at the thought of Mack’s mission for the following day. They’d offered the restored rooftop decorations to the Lodge, with free labour to assemble and remove them once the holidays were over, and the manager had been delighted. Mack and Ryan had promised to put them up Monday.
If he was up for it. If he hadn’t been hurt and was even now lying in bed suffering…
Brooke caught herself frowning. She made sure to hide her worry as she and Yvette headed toward Geraldine and Floyd’s room.
They didn’t even have to travel that far. Floyd wasn’t around, but Geraldine was sitting in the middle of the common room, knitting needles moving slowly but without ceasing.
She glanced up as they sat. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”
“I’m done with work for the day,” Yvette said, pressing a kiss to her grandmother’s cheek. “Where’s Morfar?”
“Bothering the cooks. He’s looking for cookies again.” Geraldine put her hands at rest on top of her knitting. “When he forgets a thing, he forgets it pretty thoroughly, but for some reason he’s stuck like glue on this one request.”
“Toffee almond sandies are important,” Yvette said seriously.
Geraldine motioned her agreement as if they were of the utmost importance. Then she turned to Brooke. “How’s your young man doing working on his—” Her eyes widened, and she coughed a few times, picking up her knitting and distractedly trying to change the topic. “I hear they plan to have ham and turkey on Christmas Day.”
Brooke eyed her with suspicion but let whatever she was keeping secret slide. “It sounds like a multitude of blessings.”
“The food is usually good, but they work extra hard during the holidays,” Geraldine shared. “And there’ll be church service for those who like that and presents for everyone. My favourite part is the singing, although I’m not nearly as good as Floyd. He’s the one with the voice of an angel.”
“Singing was something we did a lot of when I was growing up,” Yvette said.
Brooke leaned in closer. “Definitely not one of my skills, although I do have my favourite songs that my gram taught us.”
Inspiration struck, and she pulled her phone out and flipped to the song she’d bookmarked on YouTube. She turned it on, and the most amazing thing happened.
Yvette’s eyes brightened and she began to hum along.
Geraldine? She began to sing, her voice slightly wavering, but a rosy smile on her face as she accompanied the soloist.
When the song ended Brooke felt as if she should give a standing ovation. “That was beautiful, Mrs. Wright.”
The older woman tilted her head in acknowledgement. “That is a part of Christmas I enjoy. You’ll have to play that for Floyd. It would make his day.”
Ideas bubbled, but Brooke held her tongue until she had a chance to run it past Mack. But this much she could promise. “I will make sure he gets a chance to hear it.”
They continued to visit for a while longer. Brooke checked her phone numerous times, but there were still no messages from Mack. Three o’clock came and she couldn’t take it any longer. She said her goodbyes then slipped away and headed to the fire hall.
The scent of smoke was stronger than usual, and her feet moved faster without trying, rushing up the stairs into the dining hall.
Brad was the
re, talking seriously with two members of the team. He didn’t get up from the table, his words soft, his focus intent. She didn’t want to interrupt him, but she needed to know—
As if he’d read her mind, Brad paused and made eye contact. He smiled, then tipped his head toward the bunk area. “He said he was headed back to get some more rest.”
Brooke kept her pace short of a run but made it to Mack’s room in double-quick time.
He wasn’t there.
The sheets were rumpled, and the lights low, and she was about to head out on a search mission when a warm body pressed against her from behind, herding her into the room so he could close the door and envelop her in a tight hug.
She squeezed him back as well before letting go just enough to take a glance upward— “Mack.”
His lips curled. “Merely a flesh wound.”
“You said you weren’t hurt.” Brooke lifted a hand to his head where a white bandage shone starkly against his tanned skin. She hesitated before making contact, her stomach clenching with worry.
“Hey.” He caught her fingers in his and kissed her knuckles. “It’s okay, babe. Really. It was stupid—I had my helmet off while taking a breather, and I moved too close to a bare wall. I’m more embarrassed than hurt. Just took off some skin, but head wounds bleed more impressively than anywhere else. That’s the only reason for this.”
He tapped the cotton padding.
Brooke’s heart was still racing. She looked him over rapidly, checking for any other outward sign he was keeping anything from her. “You should have told me.”
“I was going to. As soon as I saw you in person, so you couldn’t start envisioning all kinds of worst-case scenarios.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her quickly. “Which is now. Hey, babe, I didn’t duck fast enough, but my brains are still in the right spot. It’s all okay.”
It was tough to stay uptight when he was cuddling her close, but there was still a knot inside she hadn’t felt before. “There’s this thing called a phone…”
“Great inventions. They simply need to make one that’s Mack-proof.” He tilted her head back so he could look into her eyes. “If cooking is your kryptonite, phones are mine. It got crushed when I was rushing to make the transition to the fire truck last night.”
That’s why he’d emailed. Probably from the fire hall desktop.
“And I did phone, but it went to your voice mail. Honestly, I pretty much slept until about an hour ago.” He led her toward the mattress since that was the only place to sit other than in the single chair in the corner. “But I’m glad you’re here now.”
Mack settled on the bed and tugged her into his lap. He refused to let her go anywhere except up against him.
Brooke leaned into him in much the same way Tyler had done to her earlier in the day. She brushed her hand slowly over Mack’s cheek, then down the front of his sinfully soft T-shirt. His breathing was smooth and steady, but there was tightness in his torso that said he wasn’t completely in the here and now.
“You want to talk about it?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “It was bad. Things went up hard, and they went up fast. The kid in the car was barely nineteen. He’s alive, and by some freak circumstance, he’s broken, not burned. Just lost control on the corner and couldn’t stop.”
“They have concrete barriers in front of the windows,” Brooke whispered. “They’re supposed to stop cars from leaving the parking lot.”
“They work when the snow isn’t twice their height and creating a dandy ramp. It was a fluke. Everything was in the wrong spot at the wrong moment. Someone was in the middle of moving a welder’s tank, and they understandably freaked out when they saw a car flying toward them. The connections broke and compression failed.” Mack leaned onto the bed and pulled her lengthwise against him. Far enough away that he could stare into her face.
He stroked her hair back behind her ear, his gaze softening.
“We got all the occupants out. The team did great and Fort MacLeod sent an ambulance, so that was completed as quickly as possible. Which was slow as molasses because of the snow. But the fire? It was too hot to put out.”
Brooke pressed her hands to his chest and stroked. Petting him and willing him to share what he needed. Wanting to make this better.
His expression lightened. “Truth is, other than the cold and the snow and the fire and the firecracker display that went off at about three a.m., it was pretty routine.”
“Mack.”
He kissed her, leaning in and taking what he wanted. His hard body slid along hers and then over for the briefest of moments. Brooke closed her eyes and breathed him in. Accepted his urgency and his need.
Then he was gone, rolling off the bed and glancing back with a sheepish grin. “Change my bandage? I just had a shower and it’s wet.”
He brought the supplies to the mattress and she worked carefully. Soothing the edges of the harsh red mark with cream and offering sympathetic murmurs at the rising bruise. “You don’t have a concussion?”
“My head’s too hard.” She poked his shoulder gently in rebuke, and he grinned. “Hey, the EMT said that, not me. But it’s true. Just a gash.”
Once she was done, he sat back on the bed. “I slept most of the day, but I’m ready to crash again.”
“Want some company?”
His expression lit up, then drooped. “It’s a no fun zone tonight. I’m not—”
Brooke pressed her fingers to his lips and guided him back to the mattress. “We don’t get many chances to cuddle. I’m not going to complain.”
Mack hummed his approval, then broke off into a huge yawn. “Sorry.”
She laughed softly. “Get comfy.”
“You too.” His words were slowing, his exhaustion showing.
She kicked off her shoes, jeans and top, stealing his T-shirt the instant it dropped from his torso. His head resting on his firm biceps, he watched her with heavy-lidded eyes.
Brooke lay beside him and he pulled her leg over his, his hand resting on her hip. She tugged the quilt over them, and they quieted, face to face in the near dark.
Small sounds carried from other parts of the fire hall but here it was only them.
His lashes rose and fell. Breathing slowing. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered.
“Me too.”
He fell asleep between one breath and the next, the grip on her hip softening but still possessive.
It was the middle of the afternoon, so Brooke was nowhere near ready to sleep. But it was the ache in her heart that sent her mind whirling. While she’d done nothing wrong, something was still wrong, big time.
“I wish I’d been there for you this morning.” She whispered the confession.
Yes, he’d told her he’d slept most of the day, but this stupid existence where being apart from each other was the norm—it meant she hadn’t known. Hadn’t known that he was hurt, hadn’t been there to see he was hurting inside.
She didn’t regret her amazing day because in it she’d caught glimpses of what she wanted in her world. Bits of a future out there that could be theirs, with family and friends and laughter and love.
This place they were in was no-man’s-land—it wasn’t right, and she’d had enough of pretending it was. That was the part that was broken and needed to be fixed.
“I love you.” Another whisper.
What existed between them was a comfortable thing that had grown so big it was threatening to explode her heart from the inside out. She was going to make this right. They needed to be together for real.
Brooke laid in the quiet and watched her heart sleep.
11
They had an audience.
Not only that, but with the group of seniors who had braved the cold on this Monday afternoon, Mack and Ryan had at least a dozen supervisors and suggestion-makers.
It was entertaining.
The group stood in their bundled-up coats, a tight pack of elderly eyes staring up with great inter
est.
“More to the left,” one of them shouted at the same time another suggested farther to the right.
Ryan’s unwavering calm was showing signs of wear, but Mack was having a blast. Putting the decorations up at the Heart Falls Seniors Lodge was turning out to be a huge success, not just in terms of using the bits of memory from the Silver family, but in making a lot of other people happy.
When he’d woken that morning, he hadn’t been sure this was going to happen. He and Ryan had organized the decorating detail a few days earlier, but either the storm or the fire might have messed up their plans.
But the storm had passed, and while it was still cold, the skies had gone bright blue again. Mack was caught up on his sleep, although he was slightly embarrassed he’d had Brooke in his bed and barely remembered her being there.
Other than the sense of peace she’d brought—that part he remembered just fine. And the worry in her eyes at his stupid head bump. He’d already switched to a smaller piece of gauze, just enough to keep the knit surface of his toque off the scrape.
He and Ryan had shoveled clear paths on the roof to make firm bases for the wooden frames, but in some ways the snow was a help now instead of a hindrance.
Ryan swayed to one side, dodging a snowball one of the more active seniors had lobbed in his direction. “Hey. None of that,” he ordered. “We’re hard-working volunteers, not practice targets.”
“There’s this thing called multitasking. You can be both at the same time,” the mischief-maker shouted back, but he brushed the snow off his gloves and went back to flirting with the woman in the bright green coat next to him.
Lighthearted amusement was a good therapy for the heaviness Mack felt in his heart after the fire. He didn’t usually get morose when it came to his job. Sometimes bad things happened, and he moved on and dealt with it.
Missing the planned time away with Brooke made it harder this go-round.
The second part of what was bothering him involved the downfall of working in a small town. It had been the same when he’d been deployed as a firefighter with the Air Force. That small town and community feeling meant he knew who had been hurt by the disaster. They were all connected and not nameless faces in a crowd.