Colorado Fireman. C.C. Coburn

INTO THE living room, looked up her bank’s number and called using the house phone. She’d been in such a panic that she’d left her cell phone in her minivan when she’d leaped out. It was too water damaged to ever work again.

      Five minutes later, Carly’s hopes had been completely dashed. After she explained the situation to her bank manager, he’d refused her a loan. Since she hadn’t applied for a credit card, not wanting to be hit with high interest rates if she was late with payments and with the memory of the debt Michael had built up so easily, Carly only had a debit card. But there was barely enough in her account to buy a pair of warm winter boots for herself to replace those she’d lost in the fire. She wore clean white tennis shoes to her spa appointments, wanting to look professional and be comfortable. But tennis shoes were useless for walking in snow and ice, and since it was winter, she’d be doing a lot of that.

      Carly sat on the sofa, bit her lip and forced herself not to cry. How many more things could go wrong with her life? As if sensing her melancholy, Molly waddled into the room and curled up on Carly’s feet. Carly reached down to rub the dog’s ears. “Poor girl, you’re missing your owners, aren’t you?” she asked, then jumped as a wad of money was thrust under her nose.

      She stared at it, bewildered.

      “Take it,” Adam said gruffly.

      “I … I can’t do that.”

      “Yeah. You can. I heard your half of the conversation. You need it more than I do.”

      Carly shook her head and glanced up at Adam. “Thank you, but no. I’ll find some way to get my business up and running again without accepting charity.”

      “Then give me a massage and I’ll pay for it.”

      “I don’t have a table,” she pointed out.

      He shrugged and proffered the money again. “So go buy a table with this and then pay me back with a massage.”

      Carly couldn’t help smiling at his logic. “You’re talking a lot of massages!”

      “I’ve got a feeling I’ll need them after I’ve met with my supervisors today.”

      Remembering the conversation before Adam had come downstairs this morning—his family was concerned about disciplinary action for disobeying his battalion chief’s orders—she said, “I … I hope it goes well for you, Adam. What you did was nothing short of heroic.” Her eyes filled with tears and she dashed them away. “I’m sorry I’m being so emotional. I’m not usually this weepy, but when I think of what might’ve happened to Charlie if you hadn’t found him. And Molly, she’s such a sweet dog … I … can’t … help … it.”

      “Yeah. Well,” he said, scratched Molly’s head and left the room.

      His sudden departure shocked Carly so much that she stopped crying. Must get more control of emotions! she told herself, and looked up. Adam had left the wad of notes on the coffee table.

      She took them to the kitchen.

      Sarah heard her entering, turned around and smiled. “How’d it go?” she asked.

      “I, ah,” Carly faltered, and held out the notes to Sarah.

      “Goodness! That was quick,” the older woman quipped. “Did he send you that through the phone line?” she asked with a grin.

      “Quite the contrary. My ex–bank manager doesn’t want anything to do with me. Adam gave me this, but I can’t accept it.”

      Sarah’s eyebrows rose. “And you told him so?”

      “Of course.”

      “And?”

      “He said I can work off the debt with massages.”

      “Who said that?” Megan asked, coming into the kitchen.

      “Carly’s bank manager won’t let her have a loan to get her business up and running again, so Adam’s given her an advance payment for services to be rendered. That way she can buy a massage table,” Sarah explained. She rubbed her shoulders. “Hmm. I think I need to prepurchase a ten-pack of massages. Do you do discounts for friends?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

      “You know perfectly well I wouldn’t consider charging you,” Carly said, and wagged her finger at Sarah.

      “Then you can charge me,” Megan said. “I’ve heard prenatal massages are wonderful for expectant moms.”

      “They are,” Carly agreed. “But I couldn’t charge you, either! You’ve already given me half your wardrobe,” she said, referring to Megan’s generous offer of clothes.

      “I won’t be able to fit into them for a while yet, so you’re welcome.” Megan brushed off her concerns. “Now, when can I book my first massage?”

      “As soon as I can get a table,” Carly said, shaking the money at her.

      “Can you buy one locally?” Sarah asked. “If not, we could make a run down to Denver.” She glanced at Megan. “After all, I have a nursery to furnish for my next grandchild, and although I like to buy locally, there are a few things I can’t get up here.”

      “True!” Megan said, her face lighting up. “I feel a shopping trip coming on!”

      Carly wished she could join in with their enthusiasm, but she simply didn’t have the funds. She hadn’t counted the money Adam had given her, but there couldn’t be enough for a massage table, could there?

      “You look worried,” Sarah said. “If you can’t buy a table around here, I really did mean we could take a trip to Denver.”

      Carly forced a smile into her voice and said, “Let me make a few calls, and if I can’t buy one here today, I’ll take you up on that.”

      Megan pulled out her cell and said, “You know, I think the other women in my prenatal class would love to sign up for some treatments with you.”

      “So would the ladies in my quilting group,” Sarah chimed in. She, too, pulled out her cell. “Let’s all meet back here in half an hour and see what we’ve come up with.”