Falling for the Fireman. Allie Pleiter
Читать онлайн книгу.
Could He Help Her Son?
There’s something achingly familiar about the look in fire marshal Chad Owens’s eyes. Widowed mom Jeannie Nelworth knows firsthand what it is: loss, hurt and yes—bitterness. Ever since the fire that changed their lives, Jeannie’s young son has borne that same look, pushing everyone away. So she’s grateful when Chad tries to get through to the boy with the help of his trusty fire station dog. But the man who’s all about safety and prevention keeps himself protected—from loving and losing again. Seems as if Jeannie will have to add his kind, guarded heart to her rebuilding efforts.
“I can test these smoke detectors for you, but I don’t think that will really solve your problem.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not really smoke you’re afraid of.” He pulled a book of matches out of his pocket and Jeannie fought the urge to flinch.
“You said you didn’t need matches to test the smoke detectors,” she reminded him.
“I don’t,” Chad said gently, “but you need them to test yourself. Jeannie, you need to get over this. You need to light a match.”
“Oh, no, I don’t!” Jeannie blurted out her refusal, even though she was embarrassed Chad had guessed her fear of flame. Did he have to strike such a nerve?
“Don’t feel bad—I’ve seen sillier reactions on much more serious people. I can help. And I won’t tell anyone.”
Why would Chad Owens do something like this for her? Jeannie couldn’t bring herself to ask the question.
Falling for the Fireman
Allie Pleiter
Know also that wisdom is like honey for you:
If you find it, there is a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off.
—Proverbs 24:14
Dedication
To first responders everywhere—
God bless your courage and dedication
Acknowledgments
Astute travelers will recognize Gordon Falls bears a striking resemblance to Galena, Illinois (the beautiful fire house and floodgates are dead giveaways). Jeannie and Chad’s community owes all of its charm—and none of its faults—to the lovely town that inspired their story. Thanks to Don Lay, fire marshal of Carol Stream, Illinois; and to Mike Simmons, chief of the Galena, Illinois, fire department for their input and endurance of my endless questions. Any missed professional details are surely my own fault, and not related to their fine assistance. Special thanks to the Pokorn family for lending me their home while I “researched” peaceful atmosphere, great views, good food and awesome shopping. It is the people and places that make my job as wonderful as it is, and I’m forever grateful.
Contents
Chapter One
Gordon Falls, Illinois
September 2009
Jeannie Nelworth had the faucet handle in a death grip. It wasn’t that the women’s restroom of The Stew Pot restaurant was a tense place; she just hadn’t expected her nerve to go out from under her quite so completely tonight. Somewhere between picking up name tags and the Merchant Association’s first agenda item, she’d had to bolt into the ladies’ room to pull herself together. She’d found the bright red wallpaper amusing before, but now it felt loud and suffocating.
Abby Reed was predictably right behind her. A best friend can usually see through faked calm, and Abby was as intuitive as they come.
“I’m okay,” Jeannie lied the moment Abby pushed into the tiny room.
“You are not okay.” Abby turned and threw the door’s small dead bolt Jeannie had forgotten to latch. “I told Mary Hunnington not to ask you about postponing tonight’s presentation, that you’d say ‘go ahead’ when you shouldn’t have.”
“I like being at these dinners.” Jeannie forced a cheery tone, pulling her hand off the fixture to fuss with her long brown hair that didn’t need fussing. It was true. Normally she did enjoy the monthly gathering of businesspeople in town. The many shopkeepers, hotel owners and restauranteurs that made up Gordon Falls were her family. Even the tourists were part of her life here. That’s why it was so hard to have her sweetshop closed—if only for a while.
“Besides,” she continued, “Nicky’d never forgive me for ruining his monthly video-game sleepover. Much as it kills me, that eighth-grade tornado loves a night away from his mom.”
Abby sighed and gave her the look half the other merchants had. She knew her colleagues cared for her, only now their warm but pitying looks made her feel simultaneously welcome and on display. “Really, there isn’t a soul here who would have blamed you if you missed this one. You’re the last person who needs to hear tips on holiday lighting and fire safety.”
Why bother waiting? Another thirty days wouldn’t change the fact that her candy store and home had burned down a few weeks ago. “If I stayed home, what would that solve?” To stay home was admitting defeat, and Jeannie liked to think of herself as the kind of woman who gave no quarter to tragedies