Patricia Johns

A Firefighter's Promise


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her a grin, then glanced at his watch. “I’m officially done here for the day. Do you have anywhere you need to be?”

      “I promised myself I’d go for a walk this afternoon and get some exercise,” she replied, pushing herself to her feet. “That’s about it.”

      “Care for some company?” His clear gaze met hers and a smile turned up the corners of his lips.

      Part of her knew she should decline his tempting offer, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. “Sure.”

      She glanced around the office once more in an attempt to distract herself. He turned off his computer and dropped a few papers into a filing cabinet, his muscular arms flexing as he stretched to reach a file folder.

      “Matt, you have the most sterile office I’ve ever seen,” she said.

      “Do I?” He looked around. “What’s wrong with it?”

      “I can’t tell anything about you by looking at this space. There are no pictures...nothing.”

      “The way I like it.” He shot her a teasing grin.

      “Why?”

      He didn’t answer as they headed down the hallway and into the reception area. The receptionist looked up with a tired smile, but her gaze flickered in Rachel’s direction with interest.

      “Good night, Joyce,” Matt said over his shoulder.

      “Good night,” she replied, then shot Rachel a sugary smile. “You take care of him, now.”

      Rachel wasn’t sure how to answer that and opted for silence. As they exited the door into the summer sunlight, she glanced up at Matt questioningly.

      “And that is exactly why I keep things private.” He chuckled. “In a place this size, everyone’s curious.”

      A cool breeze whisked by, lifting her dark hair over her face. She pulled her fingers through her hair, holding it back as she glanced up at him.

      “A few photos around the office might put the rumors to rest,” she suggested.

      “Photos of what?” He shrugged. “My last vacation that I took alone? A picture of me taken by another tourist? No, that’s just depressing.”

      “Don’t you have a cat or a dog?”

      He shook his head. “Sorry.”

      “Maybe a picture of your mom, then.” She shot him a grin.

      “Absolutely not.” Matt laughed. “That’s how a guy gets to be known as a mama’s boy.”

      “Is that so terrible?” she joked.

      “That’s coming from a mother,” he replied with a chuckle. “I love my mom, and she knows it. When I get married, I’ll put my wife’s picture on my desk. Happy?”

      “It’ll have to do.”

      “Trust me, the mystery is better than the reality.”

      “And what’s the reality?”

      “A whole lot of work and not much of a social life.” His eyes crinkled up into a smile. “I might need to get a dog so people stop feeling sorry for me.”

      The sun peeked from behind a cloud, then disappeared again. Clouds were moving in, the air cooling. The hum of a lawn mower floated over the breeze, bringing along with it the scent of freshly cut grass. The fire station was on the corner of a well-established residential area, and they angled their steps down a tree-lined street, Matt with his hands in his pockets and Rachel sauntering beside him. The houses on either side of them were small bungalows, and the trees that stretched over the road were mature. Matt glanced in her direction.

      “Thanks for all your help today. I owe you one.”

      “No, don’t worry about it,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I feel a little bad for the rumors your receptionist is about to start...”

      He grinned. “It’s inevitable.”

      “But she’s new, right?” she asked. “Maybe she’ll be properly in awe of you and restrain herself.”

      “I doubt it.” He laughed. “She might be new to the firehouse, but she’s also the church pianist. The familiarity is already there.”

      “You really can’t win, can you?” she teased.

      A cooler breeze enveloped her in a chilly embrace. Clouds rolled in more quickly now, a dark, smudgy blanket moving over the town, carrying with it the electric scent of promised rain.

      “With all the people you know around town,” she began, “why did you ask me to help you? I’m sure you know teachers and day-care providers, and—”

      He looked down at her, regret swimming in his clear eyes. “I’ve applied for a job across the state,” he said. “It’s not definite, so I need to be discreet. Anyone else would pass the word in a heartbeat.”

      She attempted to cover her surprise by looking down. So he wasn’t planning on sticking around Haggerston anyway. That would be a good thing to keep in mind when Chris got to know him.

      “Oh...” She cleared her throat.

      “I hope that isn’t crass.” He grimaced. “I’m not suggesting that you have no friends—”

      She attempted to smile casually. “No, I get it. It’s no problem. I’ll keep that little detail to myself.” It wasn’t her place to pass around rumors, and she wasn’t naive about the speed of gossip in a place this size.

      “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

      So he was heading out of town, if all went according to plan. It was good to know, and it helped. Matt Bailey was charming and handsome, and it certainly gave her more willpower to know that he wasn’t going to stick around—not that she actually needed any more excuses to stay out of a relationship. Chris had gone through enough changes lately, and she doubted he could handle it if his mom started dating. Besides, a firefighter’s life held no mystery for her. She knew all about the long hours, the middle-of-the-night calls to fill in for someone who was sick, the constant danger and the wear and tear on a marriage. That uniform might be appealing, but the lifestyle was not.

      As if on cue, thunder rumbled overhead and Rachel squinted up at the ever-darkening clouds.

      “It’s going to rain,” Matt said. “Come on.”

      “Shouldn’t we head back?” she asked, quickening her pace to keep up with his long stride.

      “This is closer,” he replied. “I live just down Oak Street.”

      Rachel ducked her head against the first mist of rain and she grimaced inwardly. Rain and moisture were going to do a number on her straightened hair.

       I’m the mother of a first grader, still worrying about my hair blowout.

      A clap of thunder boomed overhead, and with it came a deluge of rain, pounding down onto them like a thousand tiny fists. Matt scooped up her hand in his and broke into a jog, tugging her along, pulling her closer against his broad, muscular shoulder.

      “We’re going to be drenched!” Rachel laughed breathlessly. Water dripped down her face, slicking her fuchsia T-shirt against her skin. Matt’s hand tightened around hers as they crossed a street, his head ducked against the rain.

      “Looks like.” He chuckled, the sound warm and deep. “Don’t worry. I’ve got coffee.”

      As they jumped over a puddle already forming by the curb, Matt pointed to a little house across the next street, a white-trimmed bungalow, blurred by the falling rain.

      “Almost there.” His voice was low and close to her ear. With another boom of thunder, they made the last dash toward shelter.

      *