Patricia Johns

A Firefighter's Promise


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      A Hero for Her Son

      When the baby he rescued seven years ago returns—with his widowed adoptive mom—Deputy Fire Chief Matt Bailey can’t turn them away. Desperate to escape the reminders of his failure in the line of duty, Matt is close to leaving town. But one look at Rachel Carter and her son, Christopher, has him second-guessing his plans. Rachel is a mom in need of a hero for her son. But as much as she wants the two to bond, she’s determined to keep her distance from Matt. After losing her husband on the job, she promised never to love another fireman. Yet somehow she finds herself drawn to the one man she should avoid.

      “I’m doing my best to leave town, you know.”

      “I know.” Rachel brought her eyes back to Matt’s face and gave him a sad smile. “And I’m not stopping you.”

      “As long as I can do well with the presentation to the schoolkids tomorrow, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the job.”

      “Congratulations.” She forced a smile and nodded quickly. “You deserve it.”

      “I’m not as excited as I thought I’d be.”

      “No?” She tried to force some cheerfulness, but failed. “I’m sorry. You’re my first friend here in town, and I’m going to miss you.”

      “Me, too.” He sighed. “If things were different—”

      “You don’t have to say it,” she said quietly. “It’s okay. They aren’t different.”

      Rachel couldn’t help the melancholy thoughts that rose up inside her. She thought of her husband, who’d died too soon, of her son whose birth mother hadn’t been able to care for him, of her attempts to rebuild a life for her little boy, and now of Matt who had wormed his way into her life, and who would be off to new adventures just as soon as he could manage it. She felt lonely standing there, because no matter how solid and reassuring he felt right now, this wouldn’t last.

      PATRICIA JOHNS willfully became a starving artist after she finished her BA in English literature. She lived in a tiny room in the downtown core of a city, worked sundry part-time jobs to keep herself fed and wrote the first novel she would have published. That was over ten years and ten novels ago. She’s now married with a young son, and always has a new book on the go.

      A Firefighter’s

      Promise

      Patricia Johns

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul.

      —Psalms 23:2–3

      To Deputy Fire Chief Tim, our own hometown hero.

      And of course, I dedicate this book to

      my husband, who inspires the romantic in me. He still makes my heart race.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       Introduction

       About the Author

       Title Page

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Epilogue

       Dear Reader

       Extract

       Copyright

      Rachel Carter licked her finger and wiped a smear of chocolate from her son’s cheek. He squirmed away from her and made a face.

      “Mom, stop it,” he complained.

      “Stand still, Christopher.” She pulled a tissue out of her jeans pocket to finish the job. “Are you ready?”

      The boy twisted around to look at the firehouse. “This is it?”

      Rachel’s gaze flickered past her son’s face to the two-story brick building. Old-fashioned brickwork surrounded three large garage doors, and a row of windows stretched across the second story. July sunlight filtered through the rustling leaves of two spreading oak trees, dappling the broad drive. From high in the branches, a squirrel chattered down at them, and Rachel paused and looked up, searching for the noisy critic.

      Rachel had spent more than enough time at a firehouse like this one back in Billings. From Christmas dinners up in the barracks when her husband had to work over the holidays to quick visits over his long shifts and having to stand back and let him dash off into danger when that siren whooped. She treasured the memories of her late husband, but firehouses didn’t bring back pleasant memories for her. It was a demanding job, and not even halfway glamorous for the families of the men and women who put their lives on the line for their communities.

      “This is it.” She tucked the tissue back into her pocket and regarded her son’s pensive face. “This is your firehouse, Chris.”

      “Will the fireman remember me?”

      “You’re pretty hard to forget,