Jane's Gift Read online

  “Absolutely. Let’s go around back and check it out.” He stood and smiled directly at Sophia. She promptly tucked her face into Jane’s neck.

  “Sorry. She just woke up,” Jane apologized, her skin prickling with awareness at this man’s closeness.

  Lexi made her presence known as she rounded from behind her mother to stand in front of Captain Nelson, her pointed chin tilted, little rosebud mouth drawn into a tight line. He knelt down once again, his expression turned serious, and he gave Lexi a slight nod.

  “Are you Logan’s big sister?”

  She gave a hesitant nod in answer.

  He didn’t even break a smile. “Captain Nelson at your service, ma’am. And you are?”

  “Alexis Elizabeth Clark.”

  Now he did smile, but it was gentle, and miracle of all miracles, it coaxed what could pass for a smile from her stubborn daughter. “That’s a beautiful name. It’s nice to meet you, Alexis.”

  “You can call me Lexi.”

  “Well, Lexi it is, then.” He stood, shooting a wink in Jane’s direction, and heat flooded her cheeks.

  “Are we ready to go check out the engine?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Logan cheered, causing everyone to laugh, even Lexi, even Sophia, who giggled against Jane’s neck.

  “Then let’s go.”

  …

  Chris led the Clark family back to the garage that housed the fire engines. Well, make that the single fire engine. The other one had been temporarily retired to headquarters down in Sacramento, since fire season had been declared officially over a few weeks ago. Now he worked with a skeleton crew for at least the next six months.

  When his friend Mac had called a few days ago to explain his sister’s situation, he’d agreed immediately to give Jane Clark and her kids a tour of the station. He didn’t know Jane personally, especially since he wasn’t a Lone Pine Lake local, but he knew all about her situation. Everyone in town did. The widow who’d survived a tragic house fire and a long and painful recovery, and who now had come back to town with her family to stay.

  A miracle, the local gossips called her. Can she do it? they wondered. Take care of three young children barely recovered, and she not fully over her husband’s death?

  They’d all failed to mention just how pretty Jane Clark was. Her above-shoulder-length dark brown hair curled around a heart-shaped face and eyes as green as grass. They’d been filled with wariness and sadness and…awareness when he’d first locked gazes with her.

  And when he’d clasped her hand in his, he’d felt it again—a tiny fizz of attraction that just bubbled to the surface. He’d wondered, if he paid more attention to it, if it might grow.

  Huh. He didn’t want to look into a supposed attraction with a lonely widow who had three kids. That wasn’t his style or his usual preference. Talk about baggage.

  Her kids were cute, though.

  Chris headed toward the garage with Jane to his right, slowing his pace so she could keep up with him. She held the hands of both of her little girls as they walked slowly along the graveled path.

  The boy was hopping and skipping down the drive, and his arms stretched wide when he spotted the big red fire engine standing in the open stall of the garage. He broke out into a full run, going as fast as his little legs would take him, even though his mother called out for him to slow down.

  “He’s pretty excited, huh?”

  Chris caught a flash of a smile, though she wouldn’t turn to look his way. Odd. “That’s a major understatement. He’s had a thing for large and loud trucks for a few months now.”

  Chris took a few steps closer so he could hear her. Her melodic voice was low and sweet. “Would he want me to turn on the siren, then?”

  She visibly flinched—he saw the twitch of her slim shoulders—and he immediately took a step back. “I’m not sure.”

  “I don’t like sirens,” Lexi piped up, her voice flat.

  God, he was an insensitive jerk; of course they didn’t like sirens. He could only imagine what sort of memories the sound of them brought back, especially for Jane.

  “He might like a quick honk of the horn,” Jane suggested, and he could tell she was trying to be polite for his sake.

  “I could probably arrange that.” He sank his hands in his front pockets, his boots crunching on the gravel sounding incredibly loud in the now awkward silence, and he glanced down at Jane Clark’s feet. They were encased in lipstick-red leather flats, the hem of her wide-legged jeans flaring around them with her every step.

  She wore a thick red cardigan that matched the shoes. But she was painfully thin—he could tell even with the bulky clothing on—and he figured she must be shy, since she would barely look at him.

  Her little girls were shy, too. Well, the youngest walked and talked in a constant stream, but the older girl shot him the occasional skeptical look out of the corner of her eye. She clutched her mother’s hand as if she would never let go and her mouth appeared to be sketched into a permanent scowl.

  Such a sad, almost defeated expression on a pretty little face. She was much too young to look like that, Chris thought, and he suddenly wanted to make her smile, maybe even make her laugh. Immediately that became his goal before this tour was over.

  “How long have you worked here?”

  Jane’s question pulled him from his thoughts. “I’ve been in Lone Pine Lake for almost three years. I’ve been a firefighter with Cal Fire for eleven.”

  “Wow, eleven years?” She sounded surprised.

  “Second job I ever had, started the summer I graduated high school.” He shrugged. “Just never left. I love it.”

  “I wanna get on the truck!” Logan yelled, hopping up and down as he stood in front of the engine.

  “Hold on, bud. I’ll let you climb on up there.”

  “You’ll help him, right?” They all stopped just behind Logan, and Jane stared up at the engine. She still hadn’t faced Chris. “Hold onto him and make sure he doesn’t fall?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll take good care of him, ma’am.”

  She breathed a heavy sigh and tilted her head slightly toward him, as if careful to keep her hair over the side of her face. “Please, call me Jane.”

  He wondered why she wouldn’t look at him full on. Her slim fingers ran over her hair again and again, smoothing it over her left cheek before she finally turned to him.

  And then he saw them, the faint edges of scars along the side of her face. Her hair hid most of it, but not all. Burn scars from the accident. Sympathy filled him and he wondered how badly she’d been burned, how much she’d been scarred.

  “Well, Jane, I think I need to go check on your son before he climbs onto the engine all by himself.”

  She smiled, though her eyes went a little wide. “He has no fear.”

  “I was the same way when I was a kid.” He noticed her lips, the lush mouth coated in the faintest sheen of lip gloss.

  Yeah, he needed to stop checking her out like that. This would go nowhere and he was wasting his time. She was a widow with kids—definitely not his type. And when was the last time he’d gone out with a woman anyway? Work kept him too busy to pursue a relationship. The summer had flown by with the extra-busy fire season they’d just experienced, and he hadn’t made much time for socializing. He’d been too damn tired. Plus, he hadn’t met anyone who’d piqued his interest.

  Chris headed toward the engine, issuing a gentle warning to Logan to wait for him. Pushing his errant thoughts away, he grabbed hold of the little boy around his waist, opened the door, and hauled him up into the cab of the truck. Logan squealed in excitement, his eyes going wide at the sight of all the buttons and knobs, and his head darted this way and that, drinking it in.

  It reminded Chris of his own memory of first climbing into a fire engine. His father had been a firefighter, too, so Chris had been around fire stations and engines much of his early childhood. Once his parents had divorced, well, he’d rarely seen his father much.

>   But the excitement of a fire engine, of firefighting had never died. All these years later and he still felt that buzz when he first went out on a call. The thrill of the unknown, the adrenaline rush when headed toward battle with an out-of-control wildfire, never faded.

  “Can I drive it?” Logan asked, and Chris laughed.

  “I’m afraid you’re a bit too young for that, but you can play with the steering wheel.” Chris lifted Logan’s little hands and put them on either side of the wide wheel.

  Logan immediately started turning it, making the classic car sounds all young boys knew just how to do. Jane and her two girls approached the side of the truck, the three females staring up at them in curiosity, and Chris flicked his head in invitation.

  “Want to join us?”

  Jane shook her head slowly, but a flash of interest showed in Lexi’s eyes. He concentrated on that. “How about you, Lexi? Wanna check it out?”

  She shuffled her feet, hugging her mother’s leg for the briefest moment before she released it. “This is just boy stuff.”

  “Not at all.” Chris shook his head. “There are plenty of women firefighters who work here.”

  “Where are they?” Lexi glanced around the garage.

  “Well, one of them is off today and the others only work during the summer, when we’re extra busy.”

  “Oh.” Lexi paused, her gaze wandering the length of the engine and back. “Isn’t it hard to drive this thing?”

  “Not so hard once you learn how.”

  “Did you have to go to school?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did.” He extended his left hand down toward Lexi, his right arm firmly clasped around Logan’s middle. “Come on, join us.”

  She looked at her mother, who gave a gentle nod of approval, and then she grabbed hold of Chris’s hand. He hauled her up with ease, tugging her onto his lap as he shifted Logan onto his right thigh. She was a tiny thing, delicate in his arms in comparison to her sturdy younger brother. Pretty like her mother, with the same dark hair and deep green eyes. She clutched at his arm with cool fingers and he adjusted her in his lap. “What do you think?”

  “It’s big. And tall.” She glanced out the windshield. “I feel like I can see everything.”

  “Yeah, it is pretty high off the ground.” He released his hold on Logan, who scampered across the bench seat to peer out the window of the passenger side. Jane followed him, walking around the front of the engine to stand on the right side of the cab, where she waved up at Logan, who pounded on the closed window in greeting.

  “It’s kind of scary up here,” Lexi admitted in a small whisper.

  Chris wasn’t used to kids—he was an only child—so he didn’t know how to offer her comfort. “You’re actually very safe in this engine,” he tried. “It’s built solid, and it’s much bigger than most vehicles out on the road.”

  “Does it go fast?”

  “Very fast.”

  “Fast enough so a fire can’t catch it? I don’t like fires,” she confessed, and he knew where that came from.

  He also wondered how he would answer her. “I’ve outraced a fire or two.” And that was the truth.

  “Fires are very dangerous. They hurt people, even kill people.”

  Okay, the kid had just ventured into very uncomfortable territory. He wasn’t a dad; heck, he wasn’t even an uncle. He had no clue how to reply to her. Especially since she was referring to her poor deceased father.

  “You’re safe here. We’re not going anywhere,” he offered.

  Lexi glanced up at him, her wide green eyes drinking him in. “I guess I believe you. You seem nice. And you smell good.”

  He laughed. Ah, the blunt honesty of children. “You sure I don’t smell like turnouts and smoke?”

  She shook her head and her nose wrinkled. “What are turnouts?”

  “The yellow coat and pants firefighters wear over their clothing when they fight fires. Turnouts protect us. But they have a particular smell that some people don’t like.” His mother had never cared for it, always griping at his dad to take a shower when he’d come home from work.

  One of the many reasons why his dad had finally left—he couldn’t handle the constant nagging. His parents’ terrible marriage had left an indelible mark on him.

  “I don’t think you’re stinky.” She said it with authority, as if her word mattered and nothing else. And then she did exactly what he’d hoped for: her lips curved into a small yet genuine smile and one little hand reached out to grasp the lower curve of the steering wheel. “I like it up here. I thought it was dumb boy stuff but it’s not. Maybe you could take us for a drive someday.”

  “I could probably take you for a short drive around the station grounds right now if your mom doesn’t mind.” His heart constricted a little at the understated joy he saw on the girl’s face, and he wondered at his instant reaction to her. He’d never given kids much thought. Yeah, he liked them all right, but he wasn’t one of those guys known as being “good with children.” He never really thought about getting married or starting a family—the idea was just too foreign to him.

  His life had been torn up enough by the divorce of his parents when he was eight. Why inflict that sort of torture on his own innocent children? The 50 percent divorce rate didn’t instill any positives in his already negative beliefs on marriage. It didn’t work. No point giving it a try when it was set up to fail.

  “That sounds fun.” Lexi scooted off his lap but didn’t move too far from his side. “Let’s go!”

  Chris had a feeling this little family could take him for quite the ride. And he wasn’t sure if he was up for the adventure.

  Chapter Two

  “How was the fire station?”

  “You went to the fire station? Why on earth would you do that?”

  Jane looked from Mac to her mother and decided to answer her brother first. “It was…good. Logan loved it and Sophia didn’t really care, but even Lexi opened up to the experience.”

  “What did you think of Chris?”

  She studied her brother, wondered if there was more to his question beneath the surface. And what would his reaction be if she answered truthfully? How would her mother react?

  Christian Nelson was good looking. Tall and big with bulging biceps that had rippled with his every movement. She’d found those biceps fascinating. Found her daughter’s reaction to him even more fascinating. Lexi hadn’t stopped talking about him the entire car ride home. She’d listed off all of his good qualities—he was tall, he smelled good, and he was nice. So, so nice, Lexi had emphasized.

  Jane realized then and there that maybe both she and Lexi had developed a little crush on the fire captain. And immediately felt guilty for it, too. It was too soon for her to be attracted to someone. She hadn’t given enough grieving time to Stephen yet.

  She needed to give more time to her children, too. They needed her more now than ever.

  “He was good with the children. Patient with all of us, really,” Jane finally answered. She felt her mother’s gaze and tilted her head, looking directly at her. “Mac suggested going to the fire station to help ease the children’s fear of fire.”

  “Do you think it helped?” Lydia asked.

  Jane shrugged, played with the edge of the paper napkin that sat in front of her on the kitchen table. “I hope so.”

  “They freaked out when I suggested lighting a fire at Jane’s house last week,” Mac explained.

  “Well, of course they did.” Lydia looked pointedly at her youngest son, then at Jane.

  Her stomach lurched. She sometimes wondered if their phobia had grown because she was really the one with the issue. “I’m trying to help them get over their fears. And so far, it seems to be working.” She was so thankful for that. They’d taken to the captain, to the station, and especially to the truck.

  How she’d escaped the fire, she still didn’t remember. It had all happened so fast. She remembered going with Stephen to help the children. Remembe
red going back inside to grab her purse, of all things. But how had she gotten out? Why had she lived and Stephen hadn’t?

  She didn’t talk much about her husband’s passing. It was her cross to bear, one she rarely shared with anyone else. Had found it too hard to comprehend those first few months when she’d been brought back to reality, and then once more time had passed, she’d found it too hard to bring him up.

  So she just avoided it. Baby steps, she told herself. It was all she could do.

  But it didn’t feel like enough.

  “Well, I’m glad it’s helping, but I can understand why they’re so fearful. Fire killed their father and damaged their mother,” Lydia said in that familiar tone of voice that brooked no argument.

  And Jane certainly didn’t feel like arguing with her, not today. She’d come over to her parents’ house for breakfast, and now, she already wanted to escape. The weather was gorgeous, a perfect fall morning with crisp, clear skies and a slight breeze that brought with it the first hints of winter. There was a cold edge in the wind that would soon turn downright painful in the coming months when snow and freezing temperatures accompanied it.

  “I really don’t want to talk about this.” Jane pushed her chair away from the table and stood, as did her brother. “I think I’ll head back home. Thanks for breakfast, Mom. Tell Dad hello when he calls.” He was out of town for business—hence her mom’s invitation for breakfast. Lydia got lonely without anyone around to take care of.

  “Jane, if you don’t talk about it now, when will you?” The frown of concern on her mother’s face spoke volumes, but Jane didn’t want to ruin her Saturday with a depressing discussion about death and loss and moving on. It had been almost two years since the fire. She’d rather focus on the present, not dwell on the past.

  She just wanted to walk back to the house while she pushed Sophia in her stroller and enjoy the weather. Maybe stop by the little corner store on the way and pick up a few necessities to take them through the rest of the weekend. Pull out her camera and take photos of the kids this afternoon playing in the backyard. Normal, everyday stuff.

  That’s what she needed right now—and so did her kids. More than anything.