Home Fires (21 page)

Had Mike been thinking of Katie while he’d been kissing her?

Rose hugged the sheet close as a piercing throb grew behind her eyes. She rarely suffered from headaches, but she knew she would have one tomorrow. Pain was a funny thing. It had a sneaky way of numbing itself into dull complacency, all but forgotten in the back of one’s mind until least expected, only to come roaring back to the surface. Terry’s words tonight had been a refresher course. She should have learned her lesson by now. She was not immune to happenstance or heartbreak. Tragedy and misfortune had already come calling twice in her life and taken away the men she loved. She hadn’t expected she would have to relearn the lesson a third time.

But why should she be surprised? Bad things always happened in threes.

Rose rolled over in bed and smacked the pillow with a frustrated punch. She knew better. She was an intelligent adult. Sensible, practical, sure of herself. She should have trusted her instincts. She never should have allowed herself to get involved with him. Yet, how could she not? He’d woken something inside her that could not be denied.

Just when you thought everything was going smoothly, life had a funny way of showing you who was in charge. Once upon a time, Mike had been a husband and a father, while all she had to show for herself was a gilt-framed law degree and four cold walls surrounding her as she finished her billings for the day. If Jeff hadn’t died, she never would have left James Bay. The two of them had daydreamed their childhood away with plans of opening their own practice. It had been a wonderful dream, but it died with Jeff. Since then, she hadn’t given much thought to which way her life was headed. She’d chosen to take the easy path, wandering into the firm first as a summer intern and clerk, then as an associate following admission to the Bar. Now there were three offers on the table, distinct paths from which to choose. The lure of Washington D.C. and a chance to practice on a national level. The sharp, focused world of corporate practice and a safe, predictable life. Or return to James Bay, taking up the reins of a rural practice in amiable partnership with the Judge.

Her growing feelings for Mike only complicated matters further. He had made his feelings about living up north plain from the beginning. Choosing Mike allowed only one choice. Choosing home.

Was that something she was willing to do? That she wanted to do? Come back home and settle in James Bay? Practicing law with the Judge was a viable option, but choosing home and choosing Mike meant exploring avenues she wasn’t certain she wished to visit.

Once Mike’s life had held the promise of a child. Would that be something he would expect to have again? Rose had never had a craving to hold a baby in her arms. She had no desire for a little one of her own. No wish to wipe away milk bubbles or to be the one responsible for shielding tiny hands from things that could harm. Was a maternal instinct an inherent part of being a woman? If so, something definitely was wrong with her. Most women yearned to be mothers and care for a child, but adults were Rose’s specialty. She liked solving their problems, winding things up in tight legal documents that allowed no room for maneuvering. Changing diapers, wiping runny noses, chasing after butterflies? That was
real
work and not at all what she envisioned for herself. She relished the quiet found each night as she locked her office door and left the worries of the workday behind. Until the next morning when the alarm clock rang.

Until these past few weeks, it had been enough. She had been content, her life complete. Now everything was different. She could no longer deny it. She could no longer push down the rush of emotions that she’d buried with Jeff.

Meeting Mike had spoiled everything.

One day you grew up and met a man. A good man. One who made you feel light and happy inside, safe and at peace. It was a feeling like coming home again, when you hadn’t even realized you’d left home in the first place. She hadn’t even been looking, but the unthinkable had happened.

She’d fallen in love with Mike.

But his heart still belonged to another.

The telephone’s shrill ring broke the early morning silence as Rose headed into the kitchen.

“We need to talk.”

She hesitated. She’d hardly slept, and from the gravelly sound of his voice, Mike hadn’t either. Agreeing to see him might not be the wisest thing to do. She felt shaky and uncertain, still rattled by the midnight realization of exactly how much she’d come to care for this man.

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “This isn’t a good time.”

“Then tell me when is. I’ll come by and pick you up.”

“I can’t leave the house. My mom is here alone.”

“We have to talk.” His voice was firm and insistent.

“What about Terry?” Rose tried to buy herself more time. “I thought the two of you were going fishing.”

“Terry can take care of himself. This is more important.” Mike’s tone softened slightly. “Please, Rosie?”

Her eyes misted over as she heard him use that special name.
Get a grip, Rose.
Normally she wasn’t given to tears, but after last night, anything was possible. Her orderly world was going up in smoke.

How could she refuse him? She loved him.

“The physical therapist should be here by nine.” She wiped away a few tears with the sleeve of her robe. “I suppose I could get away then….”

“I’ll be over at nine sharp.”

Rose eyed the small clock above the kitchen stove as she hung up. Not much time. She still had breakfast to make and her mother’s knee to bandage. Plus, somehow in the next hour or so, she needed to find some way to put the emotional wreck that was now her life back into some semblance of working order.

Rose plucked two eggs from the Styrofoam carton and glanced at her mother. “Scrambled or fried?”

“Hey, gorgeous,” a deep male voice rumbled from the hallway.

Rose looked up in surprise to see a stranger lounging against the kitchen door. The man was tall, with dark wavy hair, flashing black eyes, and a grin that screamed sex.

The eggs in her hand hit the linoleum with a splat.

“Good morning, George.” Irene’s eyelashes fluttered.

Rose squatted down and wiped the sticky yolks from the floor. So this was George, the in-home physical therapist that had been the hot topic of conversation between her mother and Lil since his appearance on the scene a few days ago while she’d been at the store. Rose eyed him suspiciously as she cleaned up the eggs. Good thing she’d laid in an ample supply of groceries. He didn’t look the kind of man who could be trusted. She definitely was going to stick around more.

“Guess nobody heard me knock.” He sauntered into the kitchen and patted Irene’s shoulder. “How’s my favorite patient today? Ravishingly beautiful, as usual.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Irene giggled in reply.

Rose glanced at her mother, then took a harder look. Good Lord, was her mother wearing makeup? It was only nine o’clock in the morning.

“George, this is my daughter, Cecilia Rose.”

“Nice to meet you.” He stared at her with apparent interest. “Your mother’s told me all about you.”

Rose barely nodded in reply. What on earth had gotten into her mother? Normally Irene was such a levelheaded woman, but she seemed to have completely lost her senses. She sat there at the kitchen table simpering at George like some ga-ga schoolgirl. Didn’t she realize he was young enough to be her own son? She finished cleaning the eggs from the floor and tossed the messy paper towel at the garbage pail, hitting the target with a clean inside shot. Rose smiled to herself. Too bad Mike wasn’t there to see it. He would have been proud.

Mike! If George was already here for therapy, then Mike would be here soon. And the last thing she wanted was him inside this house, chatting over coffee with her mother and George. He had told her he wanted the two of them to talk, and that’s exactly what they were going to do.

Talk.

Alone.

The sooner they got this over with, the better.

Rose spied Mike’s pickup through the kitchen window as it pulled in the driveway.

“Eat your toast, Mom. I’ll fix you some eggs when I get back.”

A puzzled look crossed Irene’s face. “Where are you going?”

“I won’t be long.” Rose already had one foot out the door. She had to get going. Mike was out of his truck and headed up the walk. She pulled the screen door shut behind her and stepped out on the porch.

“Good morning.” She swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat and forced herself to meet his gaze.
Be calm
, she reminded herself. Most of all, she needed to remain calm. Hot sudden tears threatened to spill out as his foot hit the first porch step, but she quickly blinked them back. She couldn’t cry. She didn’t dare. Tears would bring him up those steps in a second and all would be lost. She would be in his arms before they even talked.

Mike stopped midway up the steps. His eyes were wary and guarded.

She gripped the newel post. She would not cry. She wouldn’t.

“Rose, are you okay?”

No, I’m not okay
, she cried to herself.
Damn you for doing this, for making me fall in love with you.

“I’m fine,” she replied.

“I thought maybe we could drive down by the lake. It’s quiet there and we can talk.”

How stupid did he think she was? She wasn’t about to get in his truck. He’d already taken her heart a captive prisoner. If she climbed in his truck, she would be completely at his mercy.

“Why don’t we take a walk instead?”

Walking seemed a much better, a much safer idea.

“All right,” he said uneasily. “If you want to walk, then that’s what we’ll do.” Mike reached out and offered his hand.

Rose’s heart raced as she stared at his hand. It was a man’s hand, sturdy and strong, capable of keeping a fire hose steady. Was this fireman capable of steadying her heart as well?

Only one way she would ever find out.

Warily she reached out and put her hand in his.

Silence floated between them as they started down the street. It lingered in the hot air as they wandered down one block, turned the corner, and started down another.

“Whoa, careful there.” His fingers tightened around her own as the toe of her sandal caught on the uneven sidewalk. Rose smiled her thanks. She’d stumbled but he’d kept her from falling. She kept her hand in his.

“That’s where Tommy Gilbert lives.” She broke the silence with a short nod at the aging three-story house on one corner of the second block. “It’s his brother Joey’s house.”

“Looks like the place could use some paint,” Mike said as they passed.

“It could use more than paint,” Rose said as she scanned the Gilbert property. The untidy lawn, a child’s tricycle overturned on the porch, the uneven hedges bordering the driveway provided diversion. It kept her gaze from straying where it shouldn’t, to the man beside her.

Mike reached out and caught her arm as she started off the curb. “Can you stop a minute?”

“Yes?” She saw the questioning look on his face, the uncertainty in his blue eyes. Underneath the dark athletic tan, his face looked tired and strained.

“I want to tell you right now that I’m sorry about what happened last night.” His eyes locked tight on hers. “I was going to tell you eventually. I’m sorry you found out like that.”

“Please don’t blame Terry,” she quickly replied. The last thing she wanted was the two brothers fighting. “I was pretty persistent. I didn’t leave him much choice.”

Mike shook his head. “I don’t blame Terry. I blame myself. I should have been the one to tell you. And I should have done it long ago.”

“Then why
didn’t
you?” She stood and stared, no longer caring that they were having this conversation on the street corner in front of Tommy’s house. She couldn’t hold back the torrent of words. “Did you honestly think something like that wouldn’t matter? It’s an important part of your life, Mike. Why didn’t you tell me you’d been married before?”

He sucked in a deep breath. “Guess I was waiting for the right place and time.”

“There’s
never
a right time for something like that,” she replied. “Sometimes, no matter how much you don’t want to say something, that’s exactly what you have to do.”

“I know that now. I’m sorry, Rose.”

The miserable look on his face and the sorrowful look in his eyes was like a cold slap of reality. Who was she to be giving him advice about coming clean and setting matters straight when she herself was holding back information? Depending on what decisions she made about her career and her life—the people in it would be affected.

Plus there was that other little thing she wasn’t sure she had the courage to mention.

The fact that she’d fallen in love with him.

Mike slowly shook his head. “I didn’t want it come between us. Guess I was afraid it would make a difference.”

“You were right,” she said slowly. “It does make a difference.” Until last night, this might have proved nothing more than a summertime romance once she left town. Mike might have been nothing more than a pleasant memory that surfaced every time she heard the wail of a fire whistle, every time she pulled her car over to allow a fire truck to pass. Shrill sirens would have brought back memories of a man who knowingly put himself in danger as he headed out in response to save someone’s property or life. Everything had been different… until last night.

This was crazy. She couldn’t be in love with him. They barely knew each other. It wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. Mike was so different from the other men in her life.

But deep inside, her heart already recognized him for the man he was. Mike was the one man she’d been waiting for all along. He’d merely taken his time showing up.

“I didn’t want to tell you until I knew how you felt.” He hesitated. “I wasn’t sure where things were going between us.”

She turned and faced him. “Where
is
this going?”

“I don’t know,” he finally replied. “I was hoping you could tell me.”