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Authors: Kathleen Irene Paterka

Home Fires (19 page)

BOOK: Home Fires
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“You’re not going anywhere—” Mike chimed in.

Their simultaneous protest seemed so precisely timed that the three of them burst out laughing.

“Honestly, Terry, I would love it if you stayed.” Rose didn’t even have to mull it over. It was the truth.

“Rose is right. You’re not going anywhere.” Mike latched onto his brother’s shoulder with a firm right hand. “You came up to fish, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do tomorrow. Fish.”

“But tonight…” Terry glanced back and forth between the two of them.

“Tonight, Mike is going to make us dinner,” Rose replied. “We’ll have a chance to talk and get to know one another.”

“Now I understand why you got your dates mixed up,” Terry said with a quick smile for his brother. “If I were lucky enough to have a woman like this, I’d have forgotten my brother was coming up, too.”

Rose smiled briefly at the unexpected flattery, though Mike ignored it. His attention was entirely focused on her little green sports coupe.

“Nice car.” Reaching out, he ran his hand along the sleek hood. He glanced at Rose. “This yours?”

She nodded, then froze as his cool, studied look made her pause. Did he think she was trying to show off by buzzing over here tonight in an expensive car? She didn’t know how much of a salary a fireman earned, but she doubted it was enough to afford a luxury such as her European sports car. Yet Mike must make a decent living. He drove a brand new truck and lived in a place like this. Rose glanced around the property. A small cabin nestled on a large shady lot, fronted by a sandy beach on Loon Lake, a sparkling, inland fresh body of water. Even with the economy the way it was and real estate prices dropping, lakefront properties in Northern Michigan didn’t come cheap. Either Mike had money or he’d mortgaged away his life.

“Very nice.” Rose glanced about the cabin in open admiration as Mike gave her a quick tour with Terry trailing close behind. The rooms were done up in handsome shades of reds and browns, creating an atmosphere both relaxing and appealing. A cozy living room had space enough for a wooden rocking chair, a man-sized leather chair, and a sleek modern couch. A fieldstone fireplace took up one entire wall. The front of the cabin sported a wall of windows and a sliding glass door opened onto what appeared to be a brand-new wooden deck that led to the lake just beyond. From her spot at the window Rose saw a small boat tied up to the dock at water’s edge. Mike had told her once that he liked to fish, and from the looks of his boat, he’d told her the truth. Anyone dedicated to speed, to flying across the waves while looking flashy, would have no interest in a boat like that.

“Nice boat.”

“It’s not much, only a little fishing boat.”

But it was obvious her words had pleased him. Rose noted the small smile tugging at one side of his mouth as they continued the tour.

She lingered a few moments in front of the massive bookcase near the front door. Thick volumes of history, biographies, and fiction were mixed together in an eclectic blend that surprised and delighted her. For some reason she couldn’t name, she hadn’t pegged Mike as a reader.

“You’ve got quite an assortment here.”

“I like to read. It keeps me out of trouble, plus it gives me something to do on a cold winter night.” He shared a sudden smile and Rose felt her pulse take off. Winter in the north country made for long cold nights. Nights made for snuggling in front of a blazing fire. A glass of wine and the comfort of a man’s arms wrapped around her…

“Check out the computer. Mikey’s got quite the setup.”

Terry’s voice close behind yanked her back into the present. Rose turned and followed Terry’s finger pointing to a handsome wooden desk, upon which sat a top-grade computer and printer. Piles of paperwork were stacked in neat precision across the desktop. Though the monitor screen was dark, Rose heard the computer humming.

“Surfing the Internet?”

Mike didn’t answer, but reached out and with a flick of his wrist touched the computer mouse. The monitor flashed to life. She leaned in close but Mike was faster. He pressed a button and shut down her view—but not before she caught a quick glance of the state police web site.

“You work at home, too?” She flashed him a sweet smile as her curiosity leaped into overdrive. Why had he been so quick to turn off the screen? Was something displayed there that he didn’t want her to see?

“I’ve been trying to finish some fire reports. It’s hard to find time down at the station.”

“The arson investigation must keep you busy,” she said.

He nodded. “Whoever torched Charles Kendall’s car didn’t do us any favors. We’re getting lots of pressure to make an arrest—especially with all the news coverage the
Journal
is giving the story.”

Rose hesitated. “Are you any closer to solving the case?”

He cast a guarded glance at her, then Terry. “I really can’t say. The chief has the investigation under a pretty tight wrap.”

“No problem, Mikey. We don’t expect you to tell us what you can’t.”

With a flick of the mouse, he put the computer into sleep mode. “Thanks for reminding me it was on. I was working here at home when my pager went off, and Terry showed up just as I got back.”

“There was another fire in town today?” Rose inhaled sharply.

Mike nodded again. “An electrical cord overheated and set some boxes on fire in some guy’s garage.”

She blew out a big sigh. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. “So, it wasn’t another one of the arson fires.”

His face tightened. “Contrary to what you read in the paper, not every fire in this town is deliberately set.”

“I’ll remember that.” Rose tucked his words away in her heart. The poor guy looked so tired. This was supposed to be his day off, yet he’d been out working another fire—in addition to being chief cook at tonight’s barbeque, as well as playing host to an unexpected guest. Fighting fires, working up fire reports, trying to solve the crimes… the strain he was under would wear anyone down. And Mike was struggling, that much was obvious. The big dark circles under his eyes were the ultimate giveaway. How did he manage to get any sleep with that noisy fire monitor always going off?

She hadn’t meant to stare, then their eyes met… caught and held.

“Think I’ll go take a look at the boat and scope out the fish,” Terry said with a knowing smile. He opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the deck.

“We’ll be right out,” Mike said. “Let me get Rose something to drink.”

Terry gave a wave and headed for the beach.

Mike took a deep breath. “What would you like?”

“I’m easy to please,” she replied. “Whatever you have is fine.” She trailed him into the narrow galley kitchen.

Mike suddenly paused, one hand on the refrigerator door, and turned to face her. “Sorry about the way things turned out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Terry showing up like he did.” He grimaced slightly. “I had this evening planned a little differently, but now he’s here, I can’t very well kick him out. It’s okay if you’d rather leave. I’ll understand.”

“What makes you think I want to leave?” she asked softly. “I’m not going anywhere, unless you’re kicking me out. Do you want me to go?”

“Not in a million years,” he whispered and pulled her around the refrigerator door and into his arms.

Rose shivered slightly as his hand traced the curve of her cheek. It felt like déjà vu, and then she remembered. They’d stood together like this once before, in her mother’s kitchen and she had felt the same rush of pleasure then as she did now, knowing she was about to be kissed.

His lips were warm as his mouth pressed hard against her own. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the sweet rush of desire.

“You smell so sweet.” Mike’s mouth murmured, soft against one ear. “Sweet as a rose.”

She nestled closer against him as his lips nuzzled the nape of her neck. Delicious little zings sparked through her body, straight down into her polished pink toes. Mike was good at putting out fires, but he definitely knew how to start them, too.

“You do something to me,” he whispered after a moment. His voice was husky with desire.

“Something good, I hope,” she whispered back.

“Very, very good. I don’t want to let you go.”

“I don’t want you to let go of me, either.” But reasoning, the curse of attorneys, wormed a thread of logic through her longing and desire. If only they were alone. But they weren’t. “Terry must be wondering what we’re doing.”

Mike abruptly let go and she suddenly found herself at arm’s length. Rose stared in confusion as he yanked open the refrigerator door and peered inside. She’d never expected him to take her words to heart.

“Is something wrong? I didn’t mean…” The uncertainty weighed heavy on her mind and in her heart. Why had he let go?

“What’s your pleasure?” He searched through the refrigerator. “We’ve got beer, wine, pop. You name it.”

Rose held back a sigh. He was deliberately ignoring her. The man could be so frustrating at times. “I’ll have a pop. Diet, if you have one. Any kind. It doesn’t matter.”

Nothing mattered, except figuring out what in the world was wrong with him. What was it with this fireman? One minute he was smoldering intensity, filling her with a forgotten sense of feminine pleasure—then suddenly he was dousing the fire he’d kindled inside her with a cold stream of studied indifference.

If he kept this up, it was going to be a long night.

 

 

“Mike says you’re in the family insurance business.” Rose smiled her thanks across the picnic table as Terry refilled first her coffee cup, then his own.

“Yep, I work with Mom and Dad.” Terry’s eyes sparkled. “A load of fun, right? Not.” He grinned. “Too bad I couldn’t have been like Mikey here and done something important with my life. He always wanted to be a fireman. No going into the family business, not for Mikey.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Cut the crap, Terry. No use boring Rose.”

“I’m not bored,” she quickly assured him. “As a matter of fact, I’m finding the conversation fascinating.”

She’d been nervous before dinner started. Things had been going so well in the kitchen, but the sudden coolness in Mike had confused her. Now he finally seemed relaxed again. Perhaps it was the beer he was drinking. And Terry’s presence at the dinner table—à la the picnic table—proved steady and comforting. The food was delicious, but Rose merely picked at the steak and corn on the cob. Listening as the two brothers laughed and joked their way through dinner was better than eating.

“Being a fireman was all Mikey talked about when he was a little kid.” Terry’s eyes gleamed. “The whole family was pretty happy when he got through fire academy and joined the department.”

Mike grinned. “That was a long time ago.”

“I can’t imagine being a firefighter. Facing those flames and breathing in that smoke.” She shuddered and pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “I hate smoke.”

“When you’re dealing with fire, you’re dealing with smoke,” he acknowledged. “That’s one reason we wear air packs.”

How did he stand it? Smoke was a swirling monster, worse than flames could ever be. She trembled slightly as a long forgotten memory seeped into her consciousness and the reek of sweet cotton candy mingled with the stench of smoke.

“Rosie? Want to take a try in the smoke house?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” She surrendered the sticky cotton candy to her mother and gleefully took her father’s hand.

A fireman stood guard at the front door. He crouched low and met her gaze. “Ever been in a smoke house before?”

Rose gave a quick glance at the trailer behind him, then slowly shook her head.

“It’ll be dark in there. And you’re going to have to crawl. You be sure and stick close to your dad now, promise?”

She nodded and squeezed her father’s hand tightly as the door clapped shut behind them.

It was like being enveloped in another world. The smoke house was dark and quiet, the screams of thrill seekers from the carnival outside muffled and distant. The universe shrank to a mist of swirling smoke, clouding her eyes, making her cough. She didn’t want to be there anymore. She cringed back toward the door, loosening her grip on her father’s hand.

“Rosie? Remember what the fireman said? Get down, sweetheart, get on your knees and crawl. That’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to crawl through the smoke.”

No! She didn’t want to crawl. The house stank badly, like thousands of books of matches going off at once. She gagged, started to choke. She didn’t want to be in the room anymore. She wanted out. Now!

She pulled away.

“Rosie? Sweetheart, where are you?”

Her father’s voice wafted through the murky fog. He was lost to her. She couldn’t see, and she no longer had hold of his hand. She was all alone… trapped in a swirl of smoke.

“Daddy? Daddy!” The smoke choked off her words. Rose stumbled backward and fell against a wall. Her heels scuffed on the hard wooden floor and her sandal came loose. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t breathe. Hot tears mingled with stale dust and acrid smoke. Her sobs came faster, her breath in heavy gasps. She wanted out! Right now!

“Rosie, sweetheart, stay where you are. I’ll find you.”

She whimpered and hugged the floor closer. Her knee hurt where she’d banged it, and her sandal was gone.

“Rose? Hey, are you okay?”

She blinked once, then again, and found herself sitting on the picnic bench. She gave Mike a cautious smile even as she forced back the shudder building inside.

“For a minute there, you looked really scared.”

“Sorry, I was…” She shook her head, trying to sort through the murky memory. “My dad took me through a smoke house once at the county fair. I hated it. All that smoke.” She trembled slightly. “I pulled away and fell.”

And they’d never found her sandal. She’d come out barefoot, crying hysterically. They were halfway home before anyone noticed she was missing a shoe.

BOOK: Home Fires
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