A Promise Worth Honoring (Promises Collection) (2 page)

She didn’t like to see him hurting and scared. Or embarrassed that she’d been the one to catch him in a panic, again.

Back inside the hangar, he picked up a rag and began polishing the LaFrance in rapid circles until she expected the cloth to spontaneously combust. He sucked at his cheek the way he had in high school when his father caught them both adjusting their D grades in P.E. to Bs. Now, she wished he’d open up and talk instead of shutting her out. “Hey, no one saw you but me… I know we never talked about how you got stuck in that refrigerator so many years ago, but this is different—you’re not a child any longer.”

With shuffling steps, he skirted the fender.

On the verge of—what? Running from her like he had the day she’d sprung him free? Back then, she’d hugged him tight and he’d let her hold him for a long minute. Then he’d bolted all the way home and had refused to discuss the incident. “As soon as your replacement shows, you’re off. Thought we could go to the café for coffee.”

He finger-combed his thick brown hair. “Yes, but I’m not thirsty. What are you really here for?”

Recognizing he wasn’t ready to talk, she moved beside him and slid her fingers along his arm until she held his hand. “I need a dance partner for the pageant next Saturday afternoon, and I’m hoping you’ll say yes.”

He stepped back and stared at their joined hands. “I can’t dance. I’m sure Dane—”

“I’m not interested in taking him. I want someone fun and uncomplicated.”

“Fun, huh? You know I can’t dance.” He flipped the towel and dust particles shimmered in the late morning light.

True, she hadn’t seen him dance since high school, but the competition was different. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know. And it
will
be fun, I promise.”

“Mags, I don’t know…” He shook his head. “You’re right that my test is coming up—”

A car horn blared.

She started and swiveled to face the side street that ran along the rear of the station.

A dog-sized merlot mass of feathered fur darted between cars.

Red had broken free from the cab. “Oh no.” Her wobbly legs accentuated her pinched toes and the fact she couldn’t run on the gravel and rescue her pup. “Red!”

One moment Garrett dropped the rag, the next he sprinted out the back gate toward Red, who darted between every passing car.

A motorcyclist beeped and swerved, nearly missing Garrett.

Garrett raised his arms, his eyes wide enough to see from the curb. He halted the approaching school bus. Before the distracted Irish Setter bolted again, Garrett picked up the nylon leash that snaked on the asphalt. He waved at the stopped bus driver to proceed.

Heart pounding, Maggie waited on the sidewalk, hands stacked on her chest. She took the leash and threw her arms around Garrett’s neck, hugging him so tightly the only scent she inhaled was his spiced cologne. She didn’t want to hold him the way she had when they were ten, but with him safe in her arms, breathing soft against her hair, she realized she never wanted to let go. Her throat tightened and she squeezed. She wanted to waltz a lifetime with her best friend.

His hand found her shoulder blade and his fingers combed through her hair. Against her neck, his breath grazed until he eased her down. “It’s okay. Red’s okay.” He glanced behind him, to where she’d parked her truck. “How did he get out of his crate?”

She glanced at her driver’s side door, now standing ajar.

Red had been rescued from a puppy mill, where dogs were kept in packed quarters. She’d purchased the crate to keep him safe, but she rarely locked him inside. “He must have stepped on the handle. I put him in the cab because he freaks out in his crate. Anxiety… small spaces.”

Garrett shivered.

She didn’t think it was from the seventy degree morning, but more proof of the fear she suspected.

He fluffed Red’s silky head.
“With a little training, he can learn to like his crate.”

She waved a hand.
“I could help him—stand by the door, tell him I’m right there, nothing to fear but memories. But it’s hard, you know. When I see him getting upset, I want to save him over and over again, even though I know I’m not doing either of us any good.”

Garrett scrubbed his face and exhaled loudly. “Can it, Mags. I know damn well you’re not talking about the dog.”

“I thought you said you were fine.”

“Okay, okay. You care. Can’t stop, so you want to protect
him
. I’d say protecting him sounds honorable, but
he
has to figure out for himself that the inside of the crate is safe. Nothing to fear, but an—extended hug.” He scowled.

“Or close dancing.”

His lips parted, briefly. Tilting his head, he grinned. “Dance partner, huh? For a week?”

Her muscles fluttered inside her skin all the way to her core, then cooled. Unless Garrett saw her as more than a friend, he would never leave Safe Haven and his family’s expectations for him to become a firefighter. “Garrett, in the next week, I’m going to show you such a good time, you’ll want to dance with me forever.”

He slung an arm over her shoulder.

Leaning against the swell of his chest, she nearly expected him to give her scalp a friendly noogy. Instead, he rolled her close. Held her close
r.

“How hard could learning the box step be?”

“Excuse me.” Mrs. Deter, who lived across from the fire station, stood inside the station hangar. She wrung her hands against her apron and her cheeks were red, eyes puffy. “I need help, please. My anniversary ring fell into the crawlspace under the porch.”

# # # #

Across from the firehouse, Garrett stood at the base of the porch while Maggie tied Red to the pomegranate tree, the leaves golden and the red balls plump and ready for picking. For once, Garrett needed to prove to Maggie he wasn’t a coward and retrieve the ring without making a fool of himself. “Where did you lose the ring?”

“It’s over here.” Mrs. Deter shuffled around the gardenia hedge to the porch’s lattice side. “You have to hurry before my Eddie gets home.”

The couple had the type of relationship Garrett admired and hoped to have someday. Considering Maggie had caught him trying to flee his damn pride, he doubted her offer to stick around for a lifetime would hold true.

“Can you see the band?” Mrs. Deter jabbed her finger toward the pier that sat directly under the porch’s wicker bench.

Garrett crouched and glared where spiked nails pierced the beams and eighty years of cobwebs decorated the timbers.

“I don’t know how you’ll get my ring without getting hung up on the nails.”

He scrubbed his face. “Going to take a freaking miracle….”

“What did you say, dear?” Mrs. Deter shifted her glasses.

He doubted her squinting would clarify his slip. Cupping her elbow, he turned her toward the front door. “I’m not worried. Why don’t you go inside?”

Maggie came to stand beside him and her fingers brushed his.

He resisted glancing her way, resisted acknowledging the sensations that had tormented him since she’d shown up at the station. He swallowed, cleared his throat, then narrowed his eyes at the porch floorboards. If he removed a couple slats and used a cherry picker, he’d complete the job before the other firefighters returned. He thumbed toward the station. “I’m going to grab the saw—”

“Heavens, no!” Mrs. Deter plopped onto the wicker bench. “These redwood planks came from a tree my Eddie grew from a seed. Thirty years later, and look at the beautiful deck we rest our feet on every night.”

Garrett scratched his head.
Well, shit
. No way would he destroy something that had taken the couple years of hard work to grow before they’d reaped the benefits. He bent down to examine the porch, each planked grooved and knotted to reflect they were cut from the same tree. “Thirty years from a seed, huh?”

Maggie whispered in his ear, “You’re claustrophobic and too big. Under there, if you freeze up, we really will have to cut through the porch to get you out. There has to be another way. I’ll go in your place.”

Her honest words made his gut cramp. He glanced away. “No. I can do this.”

She sidled up beside him, and again her fingers mingled with his.

He caught her upturned gaze with eyes as clear as the blue sky that broke through the tree canopy. He licked his lips. He didn’t want to stare at her kissable mouth, or the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders. No denying his  heart wanted more than a treasured friendship.

Thirty years from a seed sounded perfect. He’d wait that long for Maggie, if he knew he’d actually get her in the end.

“Garrett, your eyes look glassy. You hit your head in that tube?”

A half-grin slid onto his face. How could he tell her how much his feelings for her had grown? Since she was obviously attracted to the hero type, he had to be more focused, like Dane, and less distracted, like Red, and get that damn ring. No way could he freak out in her presence. Then he’d have to handle that dance competition that was so important to her. He had to prove he could evolve into the man of her dreams.

Mrs. Deter leaned over the railing. “What’s taking so long?”

He palmed his chin before dropping to all fours. “I’m analyzing the situation. Safety first.” Sounded cliché, but he had to buy some time. Had to think his way around retrieving the ring without proving he was claustrophobic in front of Maggie.

“Well, my Eddie always says if you can visualize success, success will find you tenfold.”

Sounded like a quote from Thoreau
. He poked his head under the porch, the mustiness of the peat rushing up his nose. “Wise advice.”

“I’m going inside to check on my pies.” The screen door banged shut and dust rained down into the dim space.

Suddenly, Maggie was beside him. “We’ll go together.”

With a raised eyebrow, he scanned her pink top with the sequin insignia and her manicured nails. “Stay here.”

A loud honk blared and Garrett craned his neck to see his brother’s truck entering the garage, which meant the others would soon return to the station.

He suddenly had a vision of Dane rescuing him. The image was worse than imagining Maggie getting her pink nails, elbows and jeans dirty.

Maggie laid on the ground.

“Maggie, get up. You’re not doing my job.”

“Firefighting is not your job. At least, it doesn’t have to be. Not if you don’t really want it. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

His muscles knotted at his shoulder, then rippled all the way to his fingertips until he clutched dirt. “Firefighting is what I’ve been groomed for, like your beauty pageants. We both do what’s expected. You work the pageant circuit for your mom’s sake and I uphold family tradition. Nothing will stop family custom.”

“But the pageants are fun. They’re a means to my long-term goal to travel Europe. You’re practically in agony just contemplating going under an open porch when you could do something else for a living.”

The only other thing he excelled at was refurbishing old fire trucks. More of a hobby than a job. With a hearty exhale, he flopped onto his belly and used his elbow to pull forward. He wanted so badly to be the man she deserved, to be a town hero like Dane, but all he did was shake his head and contemplate how his stocky shoulders could squeeze through the crisscrossed supports.

Maggie crawled forward, the length of her body and legs brushing up against his until her back pockets were at his eye level. In about thirty seconds, she grabbed the ring, then scooted backward between two piers. “Ouch.”

His stomach
wrenched and he jolted, his head smacking a crossbeam. Their bodies pressed together, her thighs were at his shoulder, and her ass straight below his chin. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I can’t move. Something is holding me near my pants zipper, so I can’t back out. You’ll have to slip your hand under and unhook me.”

He shuddered and purposefully knocked his forehead on the closest beam to regain composure. There was at least a two-inch clearance between the concrete piers. Whatever held her wasn’t part of the deck, but below ground. “Just relax. I’ll get you free.” With his torso propped on his left elbow, he ran his right hand up the outside of her thigh and let his fingertips feel for wire or rebar.

She jerked and giggled.

Her movement caused a web of dust to stick to the perspiration on his forehead, though the temperature under the shaded porch neared sixty degrees. “What’s wrong? Why are you laughing?”

“That tickles. Hurry up before Mrs. Deter thinks we’re messing around down here.”

His face heated. Other places heated too, but he told himself she was his friend and hadn’t meant to imply she wanted more from him. Took him several seconds, however, to swallow the pulse lodged in his throat. He slid his hand under her waist. God, help him. “Yep. Rebar hung up on your belt loop.”

Freed, she squirmed out until she rolled onto her back beside him and opened her hand to reveal the platinum band encircled with rectangular inset diamonds. “See, we make a good team.”