Felicia Mason - The Fireman Finds a Wife

The Lord worked in mysterious ways.

He got the first large turkey out of the oven and onto a counter where Summer indicated, then he pulled out the others.

As Summer went to work pouring ingredients into a large mixer, Cameron watched her. Every movement was efficient. She worked with a grace that almost seemed like a ballet, reaching for this, adding that. No movement was wasted.

Vanessa was chopping carrots.

Across the room, he spied Common Ground aprons similar to the one Vanessa wore. He claimed one of them and tied it on, then pulled out his cell phone and made a call.

When he finished he pocketed the phone, went to a sink where he washed and dried his hands. Then he came up beside Summer.

“How can I help?”

* * *

“Miss Summer, you make me happy to be homeless,” an elderly black man known only as Sweet Willie said.

“Brother Willie, what a thing to say,” she replied, tucking an extra cookie for him into a small paper bag.

“This the best food I’ve ever eaten. Thank you kindly.”

Summer beamed. “I’m glad you enjoyed the meal, Brother Willie.”

He shuffled out the door, the last of their guests to depart.

For the first time since that morning, she exhaled. Summer had had her doubts about how they were going to pull off the meal. In Summer’s two months with Manna, she’d yet to see the soup kitchen’s director on their busiest day. Ilsa Keller was great at promoting Manna in the community, but that ambassadorship apparently came at the expense of actually managing the day-to-day operation of the place.

If it hadn’t been for Cameron Jackson and the two guys he’d talked into coming over to help, she wasn’t sure if they would have had everything ready by the time people started arriving at four o’clock.

Six Common Ground volunteers had arrived at about three-thirty to act as servers, but they wouldn’t have had anything to serve if Cameron hadn’t pitched in. She still didn’t know who the two guys were—personal friends of his or firefighters he’d ordered to come help. He’d simply introduced them and told them to do whatever Summer said. She’d been too grateful and too busy to inquire.

“That was a nice thing for him to say.”

Summer smiled.

For some reason, she wasn’t at all surprised to find Cameron at her side. They’d worked as a team today, serving and ministering. It gave her a new insight into the fire chief. Most men would have bolted after a woman’s rejection of a dinner date.

She studied him for a moment. Cameron wasn’t just trying to get to know her. She’d seen him talking and then praying with a couple people after the meal began. Many of them knew him and called him Chief Cam, just as Vanessa had done.

Just who was Cameron Jackson?

“He hasn’t been here for a couple of weeks,” she said, telling him about Sweet Willie. “I was starting to worry that something had happened to him. I asked around, but none of our regulars knew where he was.”

“You do good work,” Cameron said. “I’m going to let Pastor Hines—Rick Hines is the lead pastor at my church, The Fellowship,” he said, clarifying for her. “I’m going to let him know that Manna needs some dedicated volunteers in the early part of the day. I’m sure there are folks in the congregation who can help.”

Summer bit her tongue. She would not bad-mouth the program at Manna. Yes, things could be done differently, but it wasn’t her place to harp on all the shortcomings.

“Today was an anomaly,” she said. “I’m glad you and your friends came to the rescue. Thank you.”

They made their way to the kitchen where the cleanup crew was turning the space back into a sparkling setup for the next day’s volunteers and setting out items for the early morning prep.

At some point between serving chicken soup and rolls, Summer had decided that a date with a man who would give the homeless almost seven hours of his day was a date she’d like to go on.

Summer retrieved her handbag, said good-night to those who remained and let Cameron escort her out the back door and toward her car in the parking lot behind Manna at Common Ground.

“If the offer is still open,” she said, “I would like to have dinner with you.”

Chapter Four

“Really?”

The grin transformed his face into one of boyish delight.

She smiled back. “Yes, really.”

“How about Friday night?” Cameron asked.

Summer willed herself to ignore the apprehension that raced through her and to savor the unfamiliar thrill of anticipation. She would have two days to get herself together emotionally. But right now, this felt right.

“Friday night sounds terrific,” she heard herself say, and could only wonder about the breathless tone that seemed to accompany the words.

“I can pick you up at your house,” Cameron said. “I think I know where you live.”

He kept a straight face for half a beat and then chuckled as a blush blossomed on Summer.

“I can explain...”

He halted her words with a finger at his lips. “Summer, I told you. You don’t owe me any explanations.”

Suddenly feeling a bit like the Summer she used to be years ago, she cocked her head a bit and gave him a saucy smile.

“So,” she said, “aren’t you at all curious about why I changed my mind?”

He winked at her. “Woman’s prerogative,” he said. “That is definitely something I have learned to respect.”

That earned him a laugh. He held his hand out to her and she took it. The gesture, old-fashioned and sweet, made her smile.

“Thank you,” she said as they headed toward the vehicle she indicated. “For everything you did today. I really, really appreciated the help.”

He nodded. “I hope to get you some permanent help. I’m going to let Pastor Hines know that more than financial contributions are needed here. You and Mrs. D should not have to scramble the way you did today.”

Summer was pretty sure that what she was hearing was unique. Not every man would see a problem and immediately seek a solution. Maybe that was why he was the fire chief at such a young age. She pegged him as being in his mid-thirties, and that was being generous. She was pretty sure that police and fire chiefs were supposed to be much older, men and women with gray hair at the temples and grandchildren they liked to spoil when they were off duty.

“Thank you,” she simply said.

“May I call you?”

She smiled, liking the chivalrousness that he seemed to exude, sort of like an old Southern gentleman. “Yes, you may.”

She gave him her cell number.

“It has a Georgia area code,” she said. “I haven’t transferred it to a North Carolina one, and my friends there...” she faltered, then shook her head. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear about all that.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

They stood there, the moment awkward as neither seemed to know quite how to conclude the conversation.

In the end, it was Cameron who found the way. He leaned forward, kissed her on the cheek and said, “I’m looking forward to Friday.”

* * *

Hours later, Summer still felt that kiss and wondered just what she had agreed to.

A date!

She sat in her bedroom at the vanity second-guessing herself, fretting and in a state her mother would describe as working herself into a tizzy.

The good thing about being back home in Cedar Springs was that when she wanted or needed to connect with one of her sisters, it could be face-to-face, instead of long distance from Georgia to North Carolina.

She glanced around, looking for the phone. The house on Hummingbird Lane was in pristine condition. It was nothing at all like the Greek Revival McMansion that she and Garrett had called home back in Macon. No professional decorator had come through with a horde of minions designing the house for maximum impact or with an eye toward the critical review of country club wives. She sold the Macon house fully furnished, taking with her just a few sentimental pieces and the antique furniture that had been passed down to her from her grandmother.