The Fireman Finds a Wife. Felicia Mason

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      Chapter Six

      It had taken Cameron less than ten minutes on Google and the Cedar Springs Gazette’s website to find that Summer Darling Spencer and her sisters were indeed the trust-fund debutantes of Cedar Springs society. The ordeal that had been his two-year marriage to a trust-fund daddy’s girl had left him with no illusions about what it meant to be in an economically lopsided relationship. The melding of working class and upper class was the stuff of oil and water, and Cameron had the emotional scars to prove it.

      Summer was pretty and he’d been drawn to her vulnerability. But self-preservation trumped those assets.

      Cameron’s first instinct was to text Summer and tell her something had come up and he wouldn’t be able to make it Friday night. But a text message was the coward’s way out. He’d all but chased her to get her to agree to go out with him, practically cornering her while she did her volunteer work at Manna at Common Ground.

      His mother had raised him to be a gentleman. And a gentleman didn’t run away from tough situations. So approaching the business entrance to Manna at Common Ground the next day, the irony didn’t escape him that the way his social life was at the moment, he considered breaking a date with a beautiful woman as a tough situation.

      Cameron didn’t know if she was at the soup kitchen on Thursday, but it was an easy visit for him to make from the public safety building.

      As he pulled open the door to the Common Ground business office, he had one goal: extricate himself from the date with Summer Spencer.

      “Chief Cam,” Mrs. Davidson trilled from her desk. “What a surprise. Two days in a row. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

      Doris Davidson was one of a handful of full-time employees for the Common Ground ministries. She was the central receptionist, point person and general bookkeeper for the soup kitchen, recreation center, homeless shelter and free clinic.

      “Hi, Mrs. D. Is Summer Spencer working today?”

      She gave him a sly smile. “As a matter of fact, she is. I think you know where to find her,” Mrs. D said with a general wave in the rear direction.

      “Thank you,” he said, making his way toward the kitchen.

      As he drew closer, Cameron heard raised voices, tinged with anger.

      “You just can’t waltz in here and rewrite the rules of Manna to suit your own purpose. You had no right to allow unauthorized people in here.”

      “Ilsa, if they hadn’t been here, we wouldn’t have been able to serve the evening meal. There weren’t enough volunteers.”

      Cameron recognized Summer’s voice. He pushed open the door and said, “Excuse me.” Neither of the women saw or heard him.

      Summer’s hair was pulled up and back with clips. She wore one of the Common Ground aprons over slacks and a short-sleeve top and had a wooden spoon in one hand. The other woman was in her mid-to late-forties with blond hair cut into a short and severe bob. While Summer was dressed to work, the other woman wore a suit he guessed was both linen and designer.

      “Are you implying that I’m not doing my job?” the woman demanded of Summer.

      “I’m not implying anything,” Summer said. “What I’m saying is that Wednesday is our busiest day. If it hadn’t been for Chief Jackson and his men stepping in when they did, we would have had crackers to serve to our guests.”

      Hearing his name in the middle of the fray brought Cameron up short. Was she being reprimanded for having him work in the kitchen?

      From the way she gripped the wooden spoon, Cameron knew that she was holding on to her temper. Another woman would have been ready to use the utensil as a weapon.

      “Excuse me,” he said, much louder this time.

      Both women turned toward the voice.

      “Cameron!” Summer said.

      “Who are you?” the suited woman demanded.

      Cameron came forward. Summer may have been holding on to her patience, but he was quickly losing his. The accusatory tone of the woman’s voice put him on the defensive.

      “My name is Cameron Jackson. I’m the Cedar Springs fire chief.”

      “Oh,” the woman said turning on both a smile and the charm. “Mrs. Davidson didn’t tell me I had an appointment. What can I do for you, Chief Jackson?”

      He glanced at Summer, who looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but there.

      “You can tell me why you’re berating this woman whose only fault was looking out for the best interests of the homeless and indigent.”

      “Cameron,” Summer began. “You don’t have to...”

      He held up a hand even as the woman said, “I beg your pardon?”

      “I was the unauthorized volunteer yesterday,” he said. “I dropped off some food donations from the fire houses and discovered that the ladies here were shorthanded.”

      “Oh,” the woman said, glancing at Summer and then turning her attention back to Cameron. “I didn’t realize...” she said as her voice faded away.

      Then, “I’m sorry,” she told Summer, the apology curt and in Cameron’s estimation, not at all sincere. “I didn’t know that the city’s fire chief was the volunteer. That’s perfectly acceptable,” she said, once again ignoring Summer and giving Cameron a one-hundred-watt smile.

      “By the way,” she said offering her hand. “I’m Ilsa Keller, the director of Manna.”

      “Hmm,” was Cameron’s only response as he gave her a handshake that was at best perfunctory and at worst as abrupt as she had been with Summer.

      “Well,” Ilsa said. “I have a meeting to attend to. The Women’s Club is considering taking Manna on as a service project.”

      Summer’s mouth dropped open.

      “My shift is ending,” she said. “Who’s going to do prep for tomorrow?”

      Ilsa shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. The work will get done. Chief Jackson, it was a delight meeting you. I hope our paths cross again.”

      A moment later, Ilsa was out the door Cameron had come in.

      “Is it safe to venture out now?” a voice СКАЧАТЬ