Charlotte Maclay

Between Honor And Duty


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a concerned friend. Nothing more.

      He glanced at his watch, suddenly realizing the hour had grown late. “Guess I’d better get going. I’m on duty tomorrow.”

      She walked him toward the front of the house. “Thanks for hanging the screen door. I can’t tell you how many years I’ve wanted one of those.”

      “No problem. Let me know if there are any other chores you need doing. I’m pretty handy with a screwdriver.”

      “Well, there is that ten-page list in the kitchen that I was telling you about, if you’re really interested.”

      He laughed. “I’ll drop by next week and see what I can do. Meanwhile, thanks for dinner.”

      “You’re more than welcome. I really do appreciate your help.” She extended her hand.

      For a heartbeat, Logan hesitated, then took her hand in his. Her skin was too soft to wield a hammer, her fingers too delicate to twist a screwdriver. Instead, her hand was made for caressing a man’s flesh, soothing him after a long day. Arousing him.

      Abruptly releasing her hand, he cleared his throat. “You’ll come by to talk to the chief tomorrow?”

      “Yes.” She gazed into his eyes as though she had felt the same frisson of sexual awareness. “I’m determined to get my life together and not depend on anyone else, but I can’t let my pride stand in the way of taking care of my children. For now, I’ll have to ask for help.”

      “There’s no sin in that, Janice. You’ll always be a part of the firefighter family, and we take care of our own.”

      It was just a damn shame he felt something a lot more potent than brotherly affection for her.

      JANICE PARKED her minivan behind Station Six in the employee lot, and the kids scrambled out. The main fire station in Paseo del Real stood three stories tall with living quarters on the top two floors and administrative offices at street level. The open bay of the main building housed two fire engines, a paramedic unit and the ladder truck her husband used to ride. A training tower occupied the far corner of the property.

      Before she could warn Kevin not to, he hopped on the heavy wrought-iron gate that led to a back patio area and swung it for all he was worth. If she hadn’t known better, Janice would have sworn her son was part monkey. He’d swing from anything that held still long enough for him to climb on. To his father’s dismay, more times than not.

      “I wanna swing, too,” Maddie complained.

      “You’re too little,” Kevin countered.

      “Uh-uh!” The five-year-old grabbed onto one of the bars, only to discover she had to run to keep up with her brother.

      “Whoa, you two!” Janice snared Maddie’s arm before the child took a tumble. “Let’s try not to break our necks, okay? I’ve got to see Chief Gray, and I’d just as soon you two stayed in one piece till I do.” Under the circumstances, she’d also prefer not to run up any medical bills because her children were overly energetic.

      “But Mommy—” Maddie whined.

      Fortunately Buttons, a chocolate dalmatian who was the station mascot, arrived to save the day.

      “Buttons!” Forgetting all about swinging on the gate with her brother, Maddie raced to greet her canine buddy. The dog lapped at her face with his long tongue, and she giggled.

      Her heart squeezing on a rush of love, Janice smiled at her daughter. Ray had never wanted the children to have a dog or even a cat. He’d claimed a pet would be too much work for him, although it was clear Janice would have carried most of the responsibility for an animal. Maybe now that he was gone—

      She abruptly halted the thought as a guilty sense of betrayal washed over her. She shouldn’t be thinking about the good things that might happen because Ray had died a heroic death. Right now, she simply needed to concentrate on the survival of her family.

      Hank Smyth, the engineer who drove the ladder truck, waved at her from across the way. “Hey, Janice, how’s it going?”

      She waved back. “One day at a time.”

      A moment later, another firefighter had come out to greet her. And then another. Before long, she was surrounded by well-wishers. As Logan had said, firefighters were a family and they hadn’t disowned her yet.

      “Look,” she said, “I’ve got to go talk to the chief.”

      “We’ll watch the kids,” Hank volunteered.

      “I’m in charge of Maddie,” Greg Turrick announced, swooping the child into the air and making her scream in delight. As was his custom, he burst into a country-western song about her being the love of his life, which turned Maddie’s screams into giggles.

      “You got ’em, gentlemen. But be careful. They’re my life now.”

      The smiles she got in return let Janice know the men were grieving, too, and doing what they could for her.

      Blinking away a fresh crop of tears, she turned toward the entrance to the offices. Damn it! If she didn’t stop “leaking” soon, she’d have to start taping tissues to her cheeks.

      She’d barely started down the hallway to the chief’s office when Emma Jean Witkowsky stepped out of the door marked Dispatch. The jingle of silver bracelets accompanied her steps, her dark hair bouncing in rhythm.

      “Oh, Janice, honey, I’m so glad to see you.” Emma Jean gave her a quick hug. “I’ve been reading my crystal ball and the news is wonderful. Absolutely wonderful!”

      “Is that anything like a network bulletin interrupting regular programming?” In spite of her troubles, Janice couldn’t help teasing the fire station’s resident gypsy-psychic who, according to informed sources, got more of her predictions wrong than right.

      “No, of course not.” Emma Jean laughed. “It’s just that your future looks rosy.” She frowned. “Of course, it’s a new ball I’m using, and I’ve only been taking crystal-ball-reading classes for a couple of months. It’s a correspondence course. So, to make sure everything’s going to be okay, maybe I ought to read your palm—”

      Janice brushed a kiss to Emma Jean’s cheek. “I’m sure my future is in good hands. Thanks for caring.” It was the next couple of months Janice was worried about, not the long-term future. She had to believe that somehow everything would work out. A crystal ball wouldn’t help her. She’d have to do it herself.

      A few steps down the hallway, she discovered Logan waiting for her outside the chief’s door. In his dark-blue uniform with its sharply creased pants and wrinkle-free shirt, he looked stunning, a perfect model for Firefighters Monthly. She swallowed hard at the thought.

      “I heard you were here,” he said in a low, intimate voice. “You look nice.”

      A flush crept up her neck. She’d worn a simple skirt, a summery blouse and sandals. It wasn’t exactly a professional outfit—and certainly not suitable if someone had expected to see her in deep mourning—but she’d wanted to make an upbeat impression on Chief Gray. Which was silly, since he already knew her. Still, she was inordinately pleased with Logan’s compliment.

      “You look pretty good yourself, fireman,” she teased.

      “They tell me I clean up okay.”

      Amen to that. Logan Strong always drew one of the top bids at the annual Bachelor Auction to benefit the burn unit at the local hospital. If he weren’t such a kind, sympathetic man who obviously felt some responsibility to help the widow of a man he’d worked with, Janice wouldn’t be spending much time with Logan. She’d simply be grateful for whatever help he offered. Beyond that, she’d have to keep her imagination in check.

      No way had he felt the same sense of intimacy, of forbidden sexual excitement, that she had last night when they’d said goodbye. To even consider that possibility was to deceive