The Fireman's Christmas Wish by Nan Reinhardt

Author:Nan Reinhardt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781957748603
Publisher: Tule Publishing Group, LLC
Published: 2022-07-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Lucy greeted Beck at the back door, meowing and winding her way around his legs in a figure eight. He leaned down and picked her up, nuzzling her against his bristly cheek. “Hey, you.” Holding her away, he looked into her blue eyes. “In all the confusion this morning, I forgot to put you in the laundry room, didn’t I?” He carried her through the house, looking for any damage she might have done locked up alone all day. Thankfully, none was found. “Looks like you were a good girl. You hungry? Is your bowl empty?”

It was, so he set the kitten down and refilled her bowls before cleaning out the litter box and carrying the ensuing mess out to the garbage can beside the garage. He passed Don’s SUV on the way back to the house, stopping to gaze in at the detritus of his father’s life on the road. The sun was low in the sky and the automatic light that serviced both him and his neighbors flickered on putting the interior of the car into shadow. He should find Don’s keys and lock it up, yet he just stood there staring into the clutter—his brain on hold, one hand on the top of the car, his breath coming out in a cloud in the chill December air.

“Hey?” A soft voice called from the front of the patio.

Harley. His heart skipped a beat when she opened the wrought-iron gate and came toward him. Her shiny hair hung over her shoulders, below a knit cap that had a fuzzy red pompom on the top. Her snug jeans were tucked into a pair of suede boots and the white-and-green knitted scarf wrapped around her neck contrasted merrily with her red jacket. She was the epitome of holiday spirit. As she drew closer, he saw that she had a pie plate in her hands and a very welcome smile on her face.

“I brought you an apple pie. I didn’t know if your dad was still here; if he is, maybe he’ll enjoy it.” The tenor of her voice was different, and her demeanor was off, somehow. Subdued? Wary?

He eyed her in the dusk, then came around the old car. “Thank you. That’s kind of you.” Reacting to the vibe she was sending, he suddenly felt awkward and he hated it. Giving himself a mental shake, he took the pie plate. “Would you like to come in?”

She raised one brow, hesitating.

“I mean, please come in. I want you to come in.” God, he was stumbling all over his words. This was Harley—they were comfortable together. Easy. The awkwardness was foreign and difficult, and he didn’t like it. He opened the door and held it for her as she walked past him.

Lucy broke the moment of discomfort by racing out of the laundry room, skidding on the shiny pine floor, and landing in a heap right at Harley’s booted feet. Giggling, she knelt and picked up the kitten. “Hello, sweetie. How are you?”

“If you value your Christmas scarf, you’d better let me hang it up.

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