The Fireman's Secret (5 page)

They made plans to grill steaks later in the week on one of the days Joel wasn’t scheduled to work a twelve-hour shift, and then Caleb headed out.

When he’d left years ago, Caleb had been going steady with Sarah West, had been since grade school. Caleb and Sarah had always talked about getting married, but it sounded like that hadn’t happened.

Which made sense. What kid actually got his childhood dream? Joel sure hadn’t. Which was fine. Dreams changed. He no longer begged God for the family he’d never have. No, his requests were simpler now. The conversation with the chief nagged at him. Perhaps Wheeler was right. It would be nice to have someone in the world besides Dante to miss him if something happened.

One person. Was that too much to ask?

Chapter Three

P
ink-and-orange sunlight pushed the purple of night out of the sky as Shelby dipped her toes into the brisk lake water. Minnows danced in a group near the shore and a large dragonfly buzzed over the surface of the calm water. The sand under the water was hard and compact beneath her feet. On warm summer mornings, she planned to swim out to the end of the pier and back for exercise, but today the water was still too chilly. Lake Michigan always took too long to warm up. For now, she’d wade. Just wade.

Her father had taught her to swim on this same beach, and before the divorce, her family had spent every summer weekend here with a picnic and volleyball. This beach was the only kind memory of Dad she allowed herself to hang on to. In grade school, she’d been a part of the swim team at the local Y, but after the fire, she quit.

Oh, Caleb and Mom told her no one would treat her differently. They said she should wear her scars with her head held high because those marks on her skin meant she had survived a great tragedy. They said people wouldn’t even notice them.

Caleb and Mom had been wrong.

People had been polite to her face—if openly staring at the burned patches on her arms, back and legs could be considered polite. But Shelby had heard them whispering. She’d seen people trying to avert their eyes from her ugliness. Some of her friends at school had even been afraid to touch her, as if the scars were contagious.

That’s when her wardrobe had changed to all jeans and long sleeves no matter what. The only time she shed those concealing clothes was for her morning swim in summer and when she was by herself in her apartment. And when she was alone around animals. Animals didn’t judge.

She ran her fingers on the two tougher, bright pink patches of skin on her arms. The marks might as well have been labels stuck to her that read: damaged goods. Like a dented can of string beans in the reduced food section of the store.

Because of the scars, she’d never know the joy of marriage that Caleb and his fiancée, Paige, were about to experience. Nor would she get to hold her firstborn child—or any child of hers in her arms. The day the church caught fire, those dreams had ended. They’d been crushed right under the same beam that had fallen from the ceiling and trapped her.

Who would want her like this? No man.

Knee-high in the water now, she scanned the beach. It was too early for anyone to be up and near the shore. Even the joggers hadn’t ventured out yet. She usually saw them on her way back to her car. Granted, today she’d taken longer to get to the beach since she’d had to ride her bike.

Today’s swim would need to be cut short so she could put her clothes back on before anyone saw her in her swimsuit. She probably shouldn’t have come anyway. It was too early in the summer yet for the lake water to be a swimmable temperature.

She escaped the cold water and toweled off her legs before slipping on her baggy jeans and hooded sweatshirt. Glancing at her watch, she remembered she was supposed to meet Joel this morning at Fair Tradewinds Coffee. The small coffee shop was off the beaten path so most of the tourists who swarmed the town during the summer didn’t know about it. She loved the place.

She needed to get a move on.

She and Joel had a fund-raiser to plan and a church to build.

* * *

Hands in his pockets, Joel crossed the grassy town square and followed the wide walking path that led to a strip of businesses lining the shore. A few of the shops he passed had already turned their signs to Open, but other than the crew from a single cargo boat unloading packages at the far end of the wharf, the town was quiet. Most tourists stayed tucked safety in their rented homes and bed-and-breakfast rooms until at least ten in the morning.

Joel breathed in the early-morning air. The lake’s surface was calm, but Joel, an expert at appearing composed no matter what was going on inside, knew just how deceiving looks could be.

He’d agreed to meet Shelby at the mom-and-pop coffee place near the harbor this morning since he was free—his first stretch of workdays wouldn’t start until tomorrow. Might as well get the fund-raising planning over with so he could wash his hands of any church business as fast as possible.

Fair Tradewinds Coffee was easy to find because of the rusted old boat lift attached to the part of the shop that hung over the water. The building was a reclaimed relic dating back to the town’s founding as a port for shipping lumber to Chicago. The large sign hanging from the old boat lift read: Try the Screaming Joe. It’s Just the Lift You Need!

He pushed through the front door. The coffee shop took nautical decorations to the extreme. An old boat mast served as a middle support column, burlap coffee bean sacks hung on the walls and a large white sail was suspended like a billowing cloud from the ceiling. The baristas were dressed like sailors.

Despite how quiet and sleepy the town had seemed, almost every seat in the coffee shop was taken except for the couches near a potbelly stove. And he guessed they were available only because of a sign that read the section was reserved.

“Hey.” Shelby waved from a small table that butted up to one of the couches.

Joel nodded to her but stopped at the counter to order a drink before grabbing a seat. Shelby wore a sweatshirt big enough to belong to her brother. For a minute, Joel wondered if she’d met him in her pajamas, but no. She wore jeans and her hair was wet, so she’d clearly taken a shower and chosen to wear the tent-like shirt.

“What’d you order?” She pulled a notepad out of her small bag and grinned at him.

“The Screaming Joe.”

Her mouth fell open and eyes went wide. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” He smiled.

“Have you ever tried it?”

“I’m about to. Why, should I be afraid?”

“They put hot sauce in the coffee,” she whispered.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He winked at her and then took a big swig. Huge mistake. A burning rushed down his throat and filled his chest. He coughed, eyes watering.

Shelby covered a wide smile with one hand and shoved a wad of napkins at him with the other. “Not so bad, huh?”

“Wow.” He wheezed and shoved the cup of offending coffee to the center of the table. “I think that’s about half hot sauce and half coffee.”

“You’re new in town, so I’d say it was eighty percent hot sauce.”

“I’m afraid to try anything else here.” He laughed.

“Everything else is safe. The Screaming Joe’s on the menu because of Robert.” She pointed at a man who looked like a seventy-year-old in the body of a thirty-year-old. “He owns the place and says he’s in such good shape because he drinks a Screaming Joe every morning.”

“He can have mine.” Joel caught himself grinning like a child again. Shelby was so easy to joke with. It was refreshing. It helped that they already knew each other, because the get-to-know-each-other part of friendships was the part Joel disliked the most. “So, what are your thoughts for this fund-raiser?”

“Okay.” Shelby flipped over the first page of her notepad to reveal a sheet of notes. “I called the local scout leader last night and he volunteered his group to be servers at our pancake breakfast. So, between them and the youth group kids that Paige and Caleb work with, we’re set there. Maggie West said she’d round up some local women to help cook that morning. We need to set a date, decide on a location and secure the ingredients as donations. What else? Did you have some ideas?”

“I...um.” To be honest, he hadn’t thought about actual details for the fund-raiser at all since the chief told him he’d be assigned to help. “The chief said we can hold it at the firehouse.”

“Oh, good.” She bit her lip while she jotted that down. “I figured, I mean...” She stared at something over his shoulder.

Joel glanced behind him. A group of five men finished their orders at the front counter and then claimed the couch area right next to them. When he turned back to Shelby her hands were braced on either side of her face, her elbows on the table. Her eyes bored into a napkin as if it was the most important thing in the world.

“Do you know them?” Joel leaned closer to her and kept his voice low.

“They all go to the church I attend—the singles group.” She didn’t look up.

One of the men behind them must have spotted Joel and Shelby because he said to his friends, “Did you see her?”

“That’s Shelby, isn’t it?” They clearly thought they were talking low enough not to be overheard. “How long do you think she’ll give the new guy?”

“Only gave me three dates.”

“Me, too.”

“It’s always just three dates. Then she decides she’s too good for whoever she’s with. Poor loser. I wonder what date he’s on now.”

“Forget her. She’s pretty, but she’s not worth the time and trouble.”

“Right. I’m happy I found Brenda.”

“When’s the wedding?”

Joel couldn’t make sense of the conversation. The chief and Caleb both called Shelby special, but that didn’t jibe with what the men from her church were saying. With how they were acting, he wasn’t surprised that Shelby had dumped them all after three dates. In fact, he was more surprised they’d made it to the third if they thought it was okay to talk about a woman like that while she was within earshot. Still, he wondered what had happened. Had Caleb flexed his muscles and convinced Shelby she shouldn’t be with them? Or had he issued warnings like he’d done already to Joel?

Shelby dashed a tear from her cheek and shifted in her chair as if she were about to make a run for it. Why had he let her sit and endure that conversation?

Joel snaked his hand across the table and grabbed hers. “Let’s get out of here.”

As they left the shop, she clutched his hand tightly, the way she had the first day after the car accident.

And he didn’t mind one bit.

* * *

Shelby swallowed hard. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. I can explain.” But could she? No. Not without saying she’d broken off every relationship once she started to like the guy—once she had realized she would eventually have to tell him about her scars.

What must Joel think of her after hearing those men? There went any hopes of a friendship with him.

Even so, Shelby dug her fingers into the back of Joel’s hand like it was a lifeline. She gulped warm air as he led her down the boardwalk that followed the beach to the old lighthouse, which marked the edge of Goose Harbor. Shelby had held hands with a small number of men in her life—her father, Caleb and a couple of guys she’d dated. Not one of them had hands like Joel Palermo—rough and calloused, but with fingers long enough to be a concert pianist’s.

He looked out at the lake. “Think we can make it all the way to the lighthouse?”

“Joel—”

“It’s already pretty warm, but if you’re game, I am.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear those guys.” She dropped his hand and faced him. “I know you did.”

He shrugged. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

She fiddled with the strap on her bag and looked at her shoes. “But I don’t want you to think that I...”

“I don’t think that.”

Her eyes met his. “You don’t?”

He stepped closer. They were already standing close so now he was only a breath or two away. “Believe me, I know better than to let other people form opinions for me.”

“Okay.” She stepped back, putting a couple of feet of space between them. “But if you don’t want to spend time with me after that, I understand.” Why had she said that? Again and again she shoved people away before they had the chance to reject her.

“Shelby, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but no one’s forcing me to spend time with you.” He laughed and held up a hand. “Okay, technically the chief is forcing me to spend time with you, but I’m glad because without him I’d have to think of an excuse to do the same.”

“You don’t ever need an excuse.” She wondered if he heard her words; they were so soft.

“Good to know. Come on.” He motioned for her to keep walking with him down the boardwalk. “Dante would love this. I’ve never taken him to a beach before.”

“Once you do, you’ll have to bring him here every day.” Shelby caught his gaze out of the corner of her eye and then glanced away. Something about spending time with this man put her at ease and gave her a chance to be herself more so than with anyone else recently.

“Unfortunately, with my work schedule, he’ll be lucky if I take him here twice a week.”

Right. Firefighters worked long hours that often included overnights. “Like I said before, Joel, I could walk him for you. On the days when you’re working or busy. I wouldn’t mind at all. He’s such a pretty dog.”

“Handsome,” Joel corrected her.

“Right. Handsome.” She winked at him. “I’m sorry if I talk a lot. Caleb says I talk too much. He says I can’t handle silence.” Why had she just said that?

“That’s fine. You can talk as much as you’d like around me. I’ve had enough silence to last a lifetime.” He cleared his throat. “So, how’d you get involved with all this church stuff?” He’d been looking at her before, but now he gazed out at the lake.

Don’t tell him about her involvement with the fire—not yet.

“After the fire, my dad purchased the land the church sat on.”

“The community just sold it—easy like that?”

“I don’t know if you remember, but the congregation had a big rift right before the fire. More than half the members had already left to start a church in a movie theater in Shadowbend.” She pointed to indicate the town north of them. “Those who were left didn’t donate enough to pay the bills to keep the church doors open. To most people, it made more sense to sell the land and move on at the time.”