The Firefighter's New Family. Gail Martin Gaymer
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Her heart gave a kick, envisioning Joey confused and frightened. She shook her head and sent up another prayer of thanksgiving. “I’d left him napping on the sofa...and ran out to save his wagon from being blown down the street and to put my car in the garage. I thought I’d be right back inside.” She motioned toward the chair again. “Please.”
“Things don’t always go as planned.” Finally he dropped onto the vinyl cushion and rested his arms on his knees, his fingers woven together. “I stuck around today for Joey. He’s my new buddy.” He gave her a tired grin. “And to be honest, I wanted to know you were okay.”
“I’m fine.” She searched his eyes, curious if he visited all the people he’d rescued. “The fuzz is gone from my brain at least. Only a minor concussion, but then anesthetic can turn gray matter to mush, too.”
Devon gestured toward her leg beneath the sheet. “And the fracture. I’m sorry about that.”
Her leg was another matter. “I’m alive. It could have been worse.” She recalled her confusion. “To be honest, I thought you were an angel when I first opened my eyes.”
His seriousness fled, and he laughed. “Me. I’d be the one with a tilted halo.”
“The Littlest Angel.” If he really were an angel, she would ask for a miracle healing so she could go home.
Devon’s grin faded. “How long will you be here?”
“I’m not sure. The surgeon talked in circles, but I hope they let me out tomorrow.”
He arched an eyebrow. “That would be a miracle.”
Miracle. He’d read her mind.
“You had a surface wound on your thigh and then surgery to set the lower leg with a screw. They’ll want to keep an eye on you for a while.”
“But...” Tears escaped her eyes and hung on her lashes. She lowered her head, hoping he didn’t notice and wanting to be the brave person she’d learned to be when she lost her husband. Before she could wipe the moisture away, tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Ashley?” He sprang up and stood beside the bed, his hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I—”
“You were being honest.” She raised her head, ignoring the tears. “I’m Joey’s only parent, and what will he do without me?”
“I’m really sorry.”
His compassion touched her. “Adam died in the Middle East. Afghanistan. He never saw Joey. Never knew his son, and—” The words jammed in her throat. “Sorry. It’s been nearly three years, but it still hurts.”
“I’m sure it does. I can’t imagine.” His face filled with tenderness as a distant look in his eyes assured her that he understood her sorrow.
She swallowed, hoping to control her emotions, and she dug deep for strength. “With a toddler, I was blessed to find work I could do at home—secretarial work for a couple of small businesses. And I have a stack of things they need soon. The job’s been a lifesaver for me. No need to hire someone to care for Joey. Setting my own work schedule.” Schedule. Her sister’s image flew into her mind. “And Neely. I’ve really messed up her wedding.”
Devon’s jaw dropped. “How did you do that?”
She pictured the lovely dress Neely had selected for the attendants. “Her wedding. I’m the matron of honor.” She flung her arm toward her leg. “Can you picture me hobbling down the aisle? I’m supposed to be her hands and eyes. But now, my hands will be on crutches and my eyes focused on not falling over.”
His concerned expression unraveled and he laughed. “I’m sorry, but you have so many other things to worry about. The wedding doesn’t seem like your worst problem. Your sister will love you anyway.”
She narrowed her eyes and shot him a glare. “You don’t understand.”
He drew back, giving her a cockeyed look. “I probably don’t.”
His expression tickled her, and her irritation slipped away. “I...I shouldn’t have taken my self-pity out on you. It’s certainly not your fault.”
A tender look filled his eyes. “When’s the wedding?”
“August. I doubt if I’ll be—”
“Think positively. You never know. You could be dancing at the wedding. That’s more than two months away.”
She shrugged. “I hope. But I can’t help think of all the wedding plans I’m supposed to help with...and Joey. Now here I am in the hospital.”
“One day at a time.” He looked uneasy. “You have Neely’s help, and I’m sure—”
“And my dad. He’s so good with Joey, but he has things to do.” She felt foolish with her uncontrolled emotions as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just want to go home.”
Devon drew a tissue from the box on her tray table and wiped away the moisture. “I know you do, and you will soon enough. Getting around on crutches will be the trick.”
“I can do it. If I can lift that boy of mine, I can handle a crutch.”
He chuckled again. “He is a heavyweight.” He dropped the tissue into the paper receptacle taped to the tray table. “And if either your sister or your dad needs help with Joey, I’ll be happy to entertain him for a few hours when I can. I work forty-eights hours on and forty-eight hours off with an occasional Kelly Day thrown in.”
“Kelly Day? What’s that? An Irish holiday?”
“No holiday or relationship to my Irish surname. Since we aren’t paid overtime, we receive extra days off so our workweek meets the Fair Labor laws. A myth says the surname Kelly came from the Chicago mayor who revamped the firefighters’ schedule and improved their wages and benefits.”
Seeing his grin, she realized he was even more handsome than she remembered. She tried to shift her leg so she could roll to her side, but as always the bandage and ache waylaid her. She appreciated how Devon’s playfulness distracted her from her worries even for a little while.
He stood above her, his hand returning to her arm. The warmth rushed to her heart for his kindness. “I’m going to leave and get some shut-eye, and I hope you get well fast and can get home soon.”
Ashley pressed her hand against his. “Before you leave, I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart. You’re an A-1 example of a good neighbor. I’ll be forever grateful.”
“Just get well.” He straightened and gave her a wink. “See you soon.”
She lifted her hand in a feeble wave, hoping she would see him soon. It sounded nice. But as his broad shoulders swept through the doorway, the familiar guilt came back. Even when she tried to reason with herself, her late husband, Adam, filled her mind. She felt as if she were cheating on him when she enjoyed another man’s company. One day the feeling might pass... Would pass, but for now, she couldn’t shake it off.
She feared that having a male friend would crush the new life she’d built for herself and Joey. She’d learned to stand on her own, to be strong and determined. On the other hand, Devon made her smile, and his kindness couldn’t be measured. He was an angel in a way, but friendships with the opposite sex, though aimed at being platonic, often led to romance. Months earlier she’d talked herself into a relationship that turned into a disaster. She’d been overconfident he was the real thing. She’d been duped. Even Neely’s warning had flown over her head, but her sister had been right. The guy proved to be a lustful drunk, a real snake in the grass.
Enough of him. She blotted him from her thoughts and replaced him with Devon’s kind face. He had these mahogany eyes, canopied by straight eyebrows. His lips curved to an amazing smile that made her smile back.