Rescued by the Firefighter. Gail Martin GaymerЧитать онлайн книгу.
Clint had risen and extended his hand. “The sun moved and we’re in the shade. It’s too cool for you out here. Would you like to see the inside?”
The offer intrigued her. Clint had anticipated her wish again. She needed a distraction from their serious conversation, and his awareness, his overall thoughtfulness, calmed her. While her hand remained in his, his strength became hers. “I’d love to.”
* * *
Clint’s eyes blurred as he viewed the training video. He’d seen this one numerous times, yet reviewing the skills he needed to be a firefighter headed the top of his “important” list. But today his mind drifted back a few days to when he showed Paula his home. Maybe he’d been wrong to give her a tour as if he were rubbing her nose in the lack of her own place.
Her house plans and her financial situation tumbled like a house of cards. When they’d talked earlier, her attitude about finances concerned him. Though she’d captured a piece of his heart, certain aspects left him thinking. Why didn’t she have savings? Yes, she’d apparently cared for her mother and perhaps had to take a leave from her job, but still...
He’d been raised to save money and budget. At first, Paula’s decision to buy the house had been made without thinking it through. Her drive to own a home blanketed the need to have a solid plan to pay for it. He rubbed his neck, remembering he’d probably said too much to her, but she’d been clinging to the edge of common sense. Still, her sensitivity preceded her ability to handle a lecture. Learning to shut his mouth was a necessity, or he’d damage the new friendship they’d developed. She needed a friend, but then so did he. She’d already been through the loss of her mother and uprooting herself to Ferndale. His comments had verged on a turnoff for her. He could have uprooted their fragile friendship with his blabber—his know-it-all attitude—and he would never forgive himself.
And then he may have added fuel to the fire, not something an intelligent firefighter wanted to do. When he’d invited Paula inside, he’d been aware of her guarded reaction to things, but he’d suggested it anyway, anxious to see Paula in his home, to see how she looked in the kitchen or seated in his family room. Sometimes he pictured her there beside him. Foolish, he knew. The images troubled him at times—another conundrum—a bittersweet moment, like dreaming the impossible dreams he’d heard about in song.
He pressed his back against the less-than-comfortable chair, facing an awareness he’d had during their talk. Though he’d encouraged Paula to relate her problem, he had also understood that Paula wasn’t the only one running. He hadn’t felt at peace since his marriage plans had collapsed.
Life had passed him by after Elise left. He went to work, did the laundry and kept the house somewhat clean, but his social life had sunk into an abyss. He didn’t want to date. Having fun seemed impossible so he stayed home. He’d even passed on going to the movies or to dinner with Devon until one day Devon put his foot down and wouldn’t accept his refusal. That day began his uphill climb.
Paula needed something...someone. Perhaps encouragement to stick it out and fight for what she wanted in life rather than give up. She’d made it clear that running sometimes seemed easier than standing still and grasping for the future. But truth be told, they both needed to stop dwelling on things they couldn’t change and get on with life.
Maybe Paula and he could find answers in each other. He couldn’t think of anyone more lovely to heal with. As she had told him about the house sale falling through and her thoughts about moving away from Ferndale, he longed to take her in his arms and hold her. He wanted to understand the depth of her problem. Running hinted that something else caused the reaction, something more dire. It wasn’t her mother’s death or her lack of savings. Those were situations in her past she couldn’t change. Or was she trying to run away from herself? That seemed impossible. Paula had strength that could fight off many battles. He’d seen hints of it. So what was it that nearly did her in?
His eyes flew open as the video ended. The others rose, rustling papers and sliding their chairs into place. He looked around, hoping no one had witnessed his lack of attention. Not a single person gave him any notice so he breathed a relieved sigh. As he rose, he sensed someone behind him. When he turned, he saw Devon leaning against the door frame and watching him.
Guilt skittered up his back. The man knew him too well, and he waited for the question.
“What’s going on?”
“Thinking.” He shrugged. “Sorry, I know I need to watch the—”
“You’re seasoned, Clint. We show the videos as a review, especially for the newer guys although it helps all of us to stay on our toes.”
Clint found no meaningful response, and he trailed along with Devon heading for the day room, his mind on his tasks for the shift. Before he made the turn, Devon paused and rested his hand on Clint’s shoulder. “You’ve been spending time with Paula. I’m glad. She needs friends.” Devon eyed him with obviously more on his mind. “How’s it going?”
His face heated, a giveaway to the feelings he’d tried to hide, but he wasn’t fooling anyone, especially Devon. “She needed to talk, and I offered to listen.”
“Good excuse.” Devon chuckled. “I’m happy to see you stepping out a little, pal. You’ve been harbored too long. Time to get the paddles working.”
“She’s nice. I like her, but really, she needed to talk and I—”
“Don’t explain. I know.” He squeezed Clint’s shoulder and lowered his hand. “I’m guessing it was about the house sale falling through.”
He nodded, hoping he hadn’t overstepped her confidence.
“I’m sure you knew we wouldn’t stop her from buying the house. A job will come, and her mother’s house will sell eventually.”
“That’s what I told her.” But he’d also told her not to buy the house until she had the finances, and not just finances but a solid savings. He fidgeted in his pocket, trying to pull out his hankie. He didn’t need it, but it gave him something to do. He considered Devon a best friend, but at the moment, he felt cornered.
“Have you thought about asking her out?” Devon searched his face. “On a date, not just to talk.”
“You’re too nosy, pal.”
“Just getting even. I remember a year or so ago, when I was getting the sly questions and winks from you prying into my visits with the ‘young woman trapped under the tree.’ Remember?”
Clint chuckled, his discomfort easing. “I think you quoted that verbatim.”
“Close, at least.” Devon gave him an elbow. “But being serious, Paula’s been through a lot.”
“I know a little about her family life but not much more.” His anticipation grew as he wondered what Devon might know that he didn’t. “How about you? Any details?”
“Paula holds things in. I’m not sure Ashley knows much more than I do.” Devon glanced at his watch. “Paula needs time to trust people. At least that’s my take on it.”
Clint nodded and let it drop. Even if Devon knew something, he’d probably not feel right sharing it.
“No matter what, she can use a wise, steadfast friend, and as you know, I think one Clint Donatelli can be that person with the help of a quick kick in the pants. Life is in front of you, buddy, not behind.”
“Thanks for your sage advice, Mr. Cupid.” Though a ripple of heat unsteadied him, he winked at Devon. “I’ll take your comments under advisement.”
“Good, and to help you along, Ashley has invited you over for a wild game of Sequence. Can you make it Sunday evening?”
“Never heard of the game, but Sunday night’s open.”
Devon grinned. “Not anymore.”
Clint let Devon’s lightheartedness spirit his attitude. He turned toward