Allie Pleiter - The Fireman's Homecoming

Black Sheep Son

Nothing about going home to Gordon Falls is easy for fireman Clark Bradens. His role as local bad boy is firmly established, though he’s determined to use his newfound faith to change people’s minds. But Clark isn’t the only one coming home to hard times. When Melba Wingate came home from Chicago to help her ailing father, she wasn’t expecting to unravel a family secret. As Melba wades through the past to find the truth about her father, Clark becomes an unlikely ally. And while neither can change the past, the future is theirs to shape.

“I never pegged you for the kind to come back home.”

It had to come up sooner or later. Clark sighed. He still hadn’t come up with a graceful way to answer comments like that. “It’s not a new story. Bad boy goes off to the big city to find new ways to be bad, hits bottom, comes home a changed man.” Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking that sounded arrogant. “Or hopes he comes home a changed man. I’m still ironing out the kinks, as you already know.”

“I think I remember hearing something about an accident. Was that the bottom you hit?” Melba asked.

Calling that night an accident was like calling an earthquake a bump in the road. It wasn’t the kind of thing Clark could share with just anyone, despite the warm look in Melba’s eyes. She was dealing with her life tilting in a different direction, and he knew what that felt like. Maybe that was why he felt so drawn to her.

ALLIE PLEITER

Enthusiastic but slightly untidy mother of two, RITA® Award finalist Allie Pleiter writes both fiction and nonfiction. An avid knitter and unreformed chocoholic, she spends her days writing books, drinking coffee and finding new ways to avoid housework.Allie grew up in Connecticut, holds a B.S. in speech from Northwestern University and spent fifteen years in the field of professional fund-raising. She lives with her husband, children and a Havanese dog named Bella in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois.

The Fireman’s Homecoming

Allie Pleiter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and

make you strong, firm and steadfast.

—1 Peter 5:10

For the tireless, compassionate caregivers

serving their loved ones every day—

you are God’s finest heroes of the heart.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Melba Wingate pushed the button on the hospital cafeteria vending machine again. Please, Lord, I know this is Gordon Falls, but would it be too much to ask You to somehow send a grilled smoked gouda sandwich? She peered without hope into the little mechanized windows rotating toward her. Sad, sanitary wedges of breaded ham and tuna salad stuttered into view. Those, and something labeled as—but barely resembling—turkey. It had been a long day, and her last meal had been two packages of cheese crackers from this machine six hours ago. She sighed and let her head fall against the cold hum of the machine window.

“No use looking for actual food in there.”

Melba turned to see a man leaning against the hallway wall, one of the offending wedges in his hand with a single bite taken out of it. “I don’t recommend the tuna. I’m not even sure I’d recommend the bread.”

In dark pants and an official-looking white shirt, the man looked vaguely familiar. She felt as if she ought to know him by his red hair, but couldn’t place the face. Just as she made out the name on his shirt badge, he extended a hand and said, “Clark Bradens.” After a moment, he cocked his head to one side and said, “Aren’t you...?” just as Melba said her name.

“Right.” He nodded. “Mort’s your dad. I heard you’d come back to town.”

The familiar face and red hair made instant sense. She offered what she hoped was a grin and pointed to his name badge. “You were two years ahead of me in high school. George is your dad.”

He took a final begrudging look at the sandwich and tossed it into a nearby garbage can. “I heard they brought Mort in here the other day. Everything okay?”

“Some bug hit him hard, but he’ll be fine.” She clutched her stomach, embarrassed at the loud growl it gave off. “I was trying to scare up some dinner, but I don’t think I have too many edible options beside a Snickers bar here.”

“You remember Dellio’s just down the street? Not too many problems in this world can’t be improved with their good cheeseburgers, and it’d be a quick trip.”

Dellio’s had been a favorite of hers in high school, and while she didn’t do cheeseburgers anymore, their fries could still taunt her from half a mile away. Melba salivated. “I don’t eat meat. Anymore, I mean. And I can’t really leave Dad.”

He paused for a moment, then checked his watch. “I’ve got twenty minutes. They make a mean grilled portobello for you veggie types. I could have it and fries back here in fifteen for you if you want.”

Melba blinked. The Clark Bradens she remembered was not the kind of guy who played fetch out of sympathy. Then again, the Clark Bradens she remembered would have been the last man she’d have expected to put on a uniform for the Gordon Falls Volunteer Fire Department—especially with his dad as chief. The margins of far too many high school notebooks were filled with odes to Clark’s wavy red hair and dreamy green eyes, but attributes like “responsible” or “civic-minded” never seemed to come up. He’d been the kind of bad-boy motorcycle rebel that mothers warned daughters about, known for luring cheerleaders to their doom.

The man before her didn’t look anything like that. Oh, the handsome hadn’t left, but the dark edge was long gone. Or maybe she was just tired. His smile was almost sweet, bearing a touch of the weariness she felt down to her bones this evening. Who cared about moral fiber when the man was offering Dellio’s fries? Life had handed her too many reasons to crave them today. “I’m in.” She dug into her wallet.

Clark pushed her wallet back down toward the handbag. “I’ll spring. They give us a firefighter’s discount anyway. Give me your dad’s room number and I’ll bring it up.”

“Really?”

“Think of me as the Gordon Falls Welcome Wagon.” He nodded to the machine of questionable sustenance behind her. “Or just a guy who’s eaten too many of those.”

Melba was too hungry to refuse. “Room 614. You just became my hero.”

“Shh...” Clark gave her the wink he was known for back in the day. “Don’t let that kind of thing get out.”

* * *

Melba heard her father’s agitated voice as she got off the sixth floor elevator.

“Calm down, Mr. Wingate, she’ll be back in a moment.”

“Where is she? Where’d she go?” The angry, confused panic in her father’s voice was a knife to her chest. She clutched her handbag to her side and took the hallway at a jog, only barely catching the resigned look from the station nurse as she turned the corner.

“We need to tell Melba.”

Dad had been doing so well this afternoon. She tossed her bag onto the vinyl chair and grabbed her father’s hand. “Hey, I’m right here, Dad.”