Gail Martin - The Firefighter's New Family

“But...” Tears escaped her eyes and hung on her lashes. She lowered her head, hoping he didn’t notice and wanting to be the brave person she’d learned to be when she lost her husband. Before she could wipe the moisture away, tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Ashley?” He sprang up and stood beside the bed, his hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I—”

“You were being honest.” She raised her head, ignoring the tears. “I’m Joey’s only parent, and what will he do without me?”

“I’m really sorry.”

His compassion touched her. “Adam died in the Middle East. Afghanistan. He never saw Joey. Never knew his son, and—” The words jammed in her throat. “Sorry. It’s been nearly three years, but it still hurts.”

“I’m sure it does. I can’t imagine.” His face filled with tenderness as a distant look in his eyes assured her that he understood her sorrow.

She swallowed, hoping to control her emotions, and she dug deep for strength. “With a toddler, I was blessed to find work I could do at home—secretarial work for a couple of small businesses. And I have a stack of things they need soon. The job’s been a lifesaver for me. No need to hire someone to care for Joey. Setting my own work schedule.” Schedule. Her sister’s image flew into her mind. “And Neely. I’ve really messed up her wedding.”

Devon’s jaw dropped. “How did you do that?”

She pictured the lovely dress Neely had selected for the attendants. “Her wedding. I’m the matron of honor.” She flung her arm toward her leg. “Can you picture me hobbling down the aisle? I’m supposed to be her hands and eyes. But now, my hands will be on crutches and my eyes focused on not falling over.”

His concerned expression unraveled and he laughed. “I’m sorry, but you have so many other things to worry about. The wedding doesn’t seem like your worst problem. Your sister will love you anyway.”

She narrowed her eyes and shot him a glare. “You don’t understand.”

He drew back, giving her a cockeyed look. “I probably don’t.”

His expression tickled her, and her irritation slipped away. “I...I shouldn’t have taken my self-pity out on you. It’s certainly not your fault.”

A tender look filled his eyes. “When’s the wedding?”

“August. I doubt if I’ll be—”

“Think positively. You never know. You could be dancing at the wedding. That’s more than two months away.”

She shrugged. “I hope. But I can’t help think of all the wedding plans I’m supposed to help with...and Joey. Now here I am in the hospital.”

“One day at a time.” He looked uneasy. “You have Neely’s help, and I’m sure—”

“And my dad. He’s so good with Joey, but he has things to do.” She felt foolish with her uncontrolled emotions as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just want to go home.”

Devon drew a tissue from the box on her tray table and wiped away the moisture. “I know you do, and you will soon enough. Getting around on crutches will be the trick.”

“I can do it. If I can lift that boy of mine, I can handle a crutch.”

He chuckled again. “He is a heavyweight.” He dropped the tissue into the paper receptacle taped to the tray table. “And if either your sister or your dad needs help with Joey, I’ll be happy to entertain him for a few hours when I can. I work forty-eights hours on and forty-eight hours off with an occasional Kelly Day thrown in.”

“Kelly Day? What’s that? An Irish holiday?”

“No holiday or relationship to my Irish surname. Since we aren’t paid overtime, we receive extra days off so our workweek meets the Fair Labor laws. A myth says the surname Kelly came from the Chicago mayor who revamped the firefighters’ schedule and improved their wages and benefits.”

Seeing his grin, she realized he was even more handsome than she remembered. She tried to shift her leg so she could roll to her side, but as always the bandage and ache waylaid her. She appreciated how Devon’s playfulness distracted her from her worries even for a little while.

He stood above her, his hand returning to her arm. The warmth rushed to her heart for his kindness. “I’m going to leave and get some shut-eye, and I hope you get well fast and can get home soon.”

Ashley pressed her hand against his. “Before you leave, I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart. You’re an A-1 example of a good neighbor. I’ll be forever grateful.”

“Just get well.” He straightened and gave her a wink. “See you soon.”

She lifted her hand in a feeble wave, hoping she would see him soon. It sounded nice. But as his broad shoulders swept through the doorway, the familiar guilt came back. Even when she tried to reason with herself, her late husband, Adam, filled her mind. She felt as if she were cheating on him when she enjoyed another man’s company. One day the feeling might pass... Would pass, but for now, she couldn’t shake it off.

She feared that having a male friend would crush the new life she’d built for herself and Joey. She’d learned to stand on her own, to be strong and determined. On the other hand, Devon made her smile, and his kindness couldn’t be measured. He was an angel in a way, but friendships with the opposite sex, though aimed at being platonic, often led to romance. Months earlier she’d talked herself into a relationship that turned into a disaster. She’d been overconfident he was the real thing. She’d been duped. Even Neely’s warning had flown over her head, but her sister had been right. The guy proved to be a lustful drunk, a real snake in the grass.

Enough of him. She blotted him from her thoughts and replaced him with Devon’s kind face. He had these mahogany eyes, canopied by straight eyebrows. His lips curved to an amazing smile that made her smile back. If she ever fell in love again, Devon would be the kind of man she would want. He reflected the wonderful attributes she’d loved in Adam.

But Devon had one huge strike against him. She would never align herself with a man whose career put him in danger every day. Adam had been a soldier. Devon, a firefighter. Both careers screamed danger. She wouldn’t do that to herself. Not again. Ever.

* * *

The red digital numbers pierced his vision and Devon closed his eyelids again. A three-hour nap was all he’d had and even that had been restless. Each time he woke, he relived hearing Joey’s cries earlier in the day and finding Ashley under the tree. Too often, the images intruded. He wasn’t alone. Every firefighter dealt with the same horrible recollections.

At least he’d done as he promised. When he’d pulled into his driveway from the hospital, he’d checked Ashley’s window. As Mr. Wells had promised, he’d patched it with pieces of plywood that had seen better days, but it worked. Still the window required repairing, and the tree needed to be cut and removed. When Ashley came home, he didn’t want those problems hanging over her.

He slipped his arm beneath his head and gazed at the ceiling. Even there he could see Ashley beneath the tree. At the hospital when he saw her after the surgery, he’d been blown away by her beautiful eyes, wide-set and as brown as dark chocolate, and arched by brows as sculpted as a bird’s wings.

Knowing sleep evaded him, he slipped his legs over the edge of the bed, stretched his arms to the ceiling and dragged air into his aching chest. The short nap would suffice. Dusk hung outside the window. He glanced at the clock. Eight-thirty. Daylight savings time had given him an extra hour of light.

He ambled into the kitchen, filled the coffeemaker and stared into space. Though needing to eat, he wasn’t interested in food. Instead, he wondered how Joey was faring and if Ashley had rested after they’d said goodbye earlier. She needed rest since they would have her up soon for physical therapy. She would learn to use crutches, to walk up the stairs and move around on her own. When she mastered the undertakings and healed to the physician’s satisfaction, the reward would be to return home. That was what she wanted, and her drive guaranteed Ashley would do all she could to make it happen. He’d already recognized her staunch character, her determination.