“Are we ready to go check out the engine?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Logan cheered, causing everyone to laugh, even Lexi, even Sophia, who giggled against Jane’s neck.
“Then let’s go.”
…
Chris led the Clark family back to the garage that housed the fire engines. Well, make that the single fire engine. The other one had been temporarily retired to headquarters down in Sacramento, since fire season had been declared officially over a few weeks ago. Now he worked with a skeleton crew for at least the next six months.
When his friend Mac had called a few days ago to explain his sister’s situation, he’d agreed immediately to give Jane Clark and her kids a tour of the station. He didn’t know Jane personally, especially since he wasn’t a Lone Pine Lake local, but he knew all about her situation. Everyone in town did. The widow who’d survived a tragic house fire and a long and painful recovery, and who now had come back to town with her family to stay.
A miracle, the local gossips called her. Can she do it? they wondered. Take care of three young children barely recovered, and she not fully over her husband’s death?
They’d all failed to mention just how pretty Jane Clark was. Her above-shoulder-length dark brown hair curled around a heart-shaped face and eyes as green as grass. They’d been filled with wariness and sadness and…awareness when he’d first locked gazes with her.
And when he’d clasped her hand in his, he’d felt it again—a tiny fizz of attraction that just bubbled to the surface. He’d wondered, if he paid more attention to it, if it might grow.
Huh. He didn’t want to look into a supposed attraction with a lonely widow who had three kids. That wasn’t his style or his usual preference. Talk about baggage.
Her kids were cute, though.
Chris headed toward the garage with Jane to his right, slowing his pace so she could keep up with him. She held the hands of both of her little girls as they walked slowly along the graveled path.
The boy was hopping and skipping down the drive, and his arms stretched wide when he spotted the big red fire engine standing in the open stall of the garage. He broke out into a full run, going as fast as his little legs would take him, even though his mother called out for him to slow down.
“He’s pretty excited, huh?”
Chris caught a flash of a smile, though she wouldn’t turn to look his way. Odd. “That’s a major understatement. He’s had a thing for large and loud trucks for a few months now.”
Chris took a few steps closer so he could hear her. Her melodic voice was low and sweet. “Would he want me to turn on the siren, then?”
She visibly flinched—he saw the twitch of her slim shoulders—and he immediately took a step back. “I’m not sure.”
“I don’t like sirens,” Lexi piped up, her voice flat.
God, he was an insensitive jerk; of course they didn’t like sirens. He could only imagine what sort of memories the sound of them brought back, especially for Jane.
“He might like a quick honk of the horn,” Jane suggested, and he could tell she was trying to be polite for his sake.
“I could probably arrange that.” He sank his hands in his front pockets, his boots crunching on the gravel sounding incredibly loud in the now awkward silence, and he glanced down at Jane Clark’s feet. They were encased in lipstick-red leather flats, the hem of her wide-legged jeans flaring around them with her every step.
She wore a thick red cardigan that matched the shoes. But she was painfully thin—he could tell even with the bulky clothing on—and he figured she must be shy, since she would barely look at him.
Her little girls were shy, too. Well, the youngest walked and talked in a constant stream, but the older girl shot him the occasional skeptical look out of the corner of her eye. She clutched her mother’s hand as if she would never let go and her mouth appeared to be sketched into a permanent scowl.
Such a sad, almost defeated expression on a pretty little face. She was much too young to look like that, Chris thought, and he suddenly wanted to make her smile, maybe even make her laugh. Immediately that became his goal before this tour was over.
“How long have you worked here?”
Jane’s question pulled him from his thoughts. “I’ve been in Lone Pine Lake for almost three years. I’ve been a firefighter with Cal Fire for eleven.”
“Wow, eleven years?” She sounded surprised.
“Second job I ever had, started the summer I graduated high school.” He shrugged. “Just never left. I love it.”
“I wanna get on the truck!” Logan yelled, hopping up and down as he stood in front of the engine.
“Hold on, bud. I’ll let you climb on up there.”