Rescued by the Firefighter. Gail Martin Gaymer

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СКАЧАТЬ picture you wallowing.”

      “Oh, but I do. It’s something new, another weakness, that’s happened since my cousins encouraged me to move here after my mother died.”

      His grin faded. “They’re nice ladies. Devon and Jon caught two good ones.”

      A grin slipped to her mouth. “You make them sound like fish.”

      His belly laugh surprised her, and she chuckled along with him. “I’ve always been very private, and talking about my problems is something I’ve never done. I’ve tried to understand why I’m compelled to open up to you.” Though blunt, the truth had to be spoken. She wanted him to understand her struggle.

      He reached across the table and slipped his hand over hers. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. I don’t mean to pry. I only thought it might—”

      “I know you’re not prying. I’m the one who blubbered all over your shirt.” She leaned closer with her free hand and placed it on his chest. “It’s dry now.” Warmth rushed through her palm to her fingertips as his well-toned physique stirred beneath the knit shirt.

      “If it were drenched, Paula, I wouldn’t care.”

      His expression washed over her—kind, tender, honest—the kind of look that she’d missed with Vic. Seeing Clint’s sincere ways, she should have known Vic was using her, but at the time she didn’t care. When desperate, blocking reality had a value, but lately she’d begun to face the truth. She’d been hungry for love, a kind of hunger that turned lies into hopes. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind the next time I need to cry.”

      “I hope you do.” His eyes captured hers.

      Like a cord binding them, she felt close to him, a feeling she couldn’t explain. A kinship, perhaps. The silence lingered, a comfortable quiet only disturbed by a chirping bird and the breeze ruffling the shrubs nearby. “Would you like to hear about my second problem?”

      “If you’re ready to talk.”

      “The buyer for my mother’s house backed off. No sale.” The words caught in her throat. “I hate to tell Devon and Ashley. They were so excited that I planned to buy the house.”

      He turned his head as he focused into the distance for a moment until his eyes met hers again. “Remember, it’s only been on the market for a short time.”

      She nodded. “But I have no guarantee when it will sell. So many homes take years. They don’t want to wait that long. I hate to tell Ash and Devon.”

      “But it’s smart thinking. Waiting makes sense. You don’t want to jump into something you can’t handle. When it comes to finances, I...”

      She brushed her knuckle across her eyes where tears had begun to form. “I’m just disappointed. I’ll get over it. I always do.”

      “You probably don’t want my opinion, but you’d be smarter to stay with Fred, even rent a small apartment, until you can make a secure move into your own house. My parents taught me to be sensible. Having savings means more than—”

      She flexed her palm, not wanting to hear his lecture. “I really want that house, Clint. It’s close to family. Ashley and Devon are right down the block, and—”

      “You’ll find another house close by when you can afford it. Never take chances when it comes to security.”

      Stopping Clint served as much purpose as holding back the tide. Hopeless. Still, she looked at his expression and read his meaning. “I’m like a little kid, Clint. I want things when I want them. I know a woman of my age should know that it’s not the end.”

      His shoulders relaxed. “Definitely not the end. It’s only the beginning.”

      The beginning. Her hopes rose again, but she pushed them aside. The man wanted a woman he’d met in church, not one who trusted a jerk like Vic, who’d knocked the stilts out from under her with his treatment. But Clint received support from his family. He had no idea what it was like to learn from making mistakes and then having to repair them.

      She didn’t want a lecture, but she’d learned one thing about Clint. He was a straight arrow, a man of honor, although she found herself questioning his advice. Somewhere along the way, she’d picked up some warped judgments. Maybe she could undo them. Her mind slipped back into her pre-Vic mode. She’d been far more open and trusting then, even though her life was a mess.

      “You’re quiet.” Clint searched her face, his look reflecting his own confusion. “I didn’t mean to bring you down.”

      She’d done that herself. “I’m questioning my judgment. Maybe I should think things through without being nestled in the family’s embrace. You know?” She analyzed his expression and questioned whether he understood or not. “Sometimes I ask myself if I should stay here. I’ve never been dependent on anyone.”

      “No.” His hand rose, his palm flexed.

      Though his face reflected concern, his vehemence startled her. “What are you saying? I don’t think you understand what we’ve been talking about. I have no job. No house. No assur—”

      “Have you always run away from problems, Paula?”

      She’d never called it running away, but maybe that’s what she did. She gave a nod, assured that trying to hide reality from Clint was useless. He always read the truth in her face.

      “If you’ve spent your lifetime running, you’ve given up hope. Being hopeless isn’t the kind of life that makes anyone happy. How many times have I seen you laugh when you’re with Fred and your cousins? The day I met you, you said things that made me chuckle. Life can be filled with joy. Fun. But you’ll never find it if you don’t take a chance. Stay in one place and deal with problems. Running solves nothing. Confronting does. I’ve run away, too, Paula, in my own way.”

      She tried to recall what she’d said to trigger his adamant comments. But it didn’t really matter. Letting his message soak into every pore, she was nourished by the images that rose in her mind and she could only utter a truth. “I have loved it here.”

      “I’m not challenging you, Paula. I only want you to dig deep for the answers. Nothing comes to the surface without a willingness to dredge up the sludge and find the gold. Running stomps down character. Standing firm builds it.”

      She drew up her shoulders, recognizing the truth he spoke. Though his words stung, Clint had a way of stating the truth. “You’re right. I know you’re right, but sometimes it’s easier to walk away than deal with it.”

      “Give it time. The house will sell, and I’m sure that Devon and Ashley won’t be fazed. I guarantee.”

      “You are sure of yourself.” She managed a grin, longing to lighten the moment.

      “Firefighters have to be confident.”

      Though she’d never given it thought before, she would want a person who saved others to be sure-footed—even someone rescuing her. A chill shivered down her spine. Was saving her Clint’s mission? Did he want to rescue her from herself? She met the questions with confusion, even disappointment.

      Though she’d grappled СКАЧАТЬ