Jane's Gift (Lone Pine Lake 1)

“It’s my brother Patrick’s place. He’s letting us stay there until…” Until what?

She honestly couldn’t finish her sentence. She had no future plans, couldn’t imagine leaving at the moment, six months from now, even a year down the road. She’d never even discussed with Patrick how long they’d be staying there. She’d simply sold the house she shared with Stephen, hired movers to pack up most of her furniture and put it in storage, and came to Lone Pine Lake. “Until I get back on my feet,” she finished.

“Nice. I met Patrick once; Mac introduced us. He’s a good guy.”

“He’s the best.” She’d always admired her big brother. He and his wife had been her strength, her rock while going through her recovery.

“Captain Nelson, can I go on the engine?” Lexi asked, using her most polite voice. She stood in front of him looking just like a little lady, her eyes beguiling.

And Jane figured Captain Nelson was as big a sucker as anyone else because he knelt in front of Lexi and flashed a dazzling smile. “Absolutely. Get your brother and take him, too. Tell Chip, the firefighter standing over there, to let you get in the cab—because I said so.”

Lexi’s face brightened and she looked ready to bolt, but Jane stopped her. “Tell Captain Nelson thank you.”

“Thank you, Captain Nelson!” And she was gone, grabbing Logan before they both approached the young firefighter who stood in front of the driver’s side of the truck.

“You’re welcome,” he said as he brought himself back up to his full height, his gaze locked on Jane’s face. “And you can call me Chris.”

Heady warmth washed over her at the expression he wore, the careful way he watched her. She forgot that her children were yelling at her from the front of the cab—“Look at me, Mama!”—and forgot that Sophia was rocking back and forth in her stroller demanding more popcorn.

“Mooom-meee!” Jane startled at the sound of Lexi yelling at her, and she turned to see her two children with their heads poking out of the open window of the engine, Chip the firefighter standing just below them on the ground. “Hi!”

Jane returned Lexi’s frantic wave, then shrugged at Chris. “They can be kind of demanding, huh?”

“I’ll say. But they sure are cute.” He still watched them. “Seems like they’re not as worried about fire anymore, huh?”

“You helped a lot—thank you. And I talked to them that night, after the visit. Showed them the Smokey Bear comic book you gave me.” She couldn’t admit to Chris her new suspicion, that she was the one with the irrational fear, not them. “We even had Mac over last night and he showed them how to light a fire. The kids roasted marshmallows.”

“I bet they loved that.”

“They did. Made s’mores and everything.”

His gaze met hers yet again and he breathed deeply, as if for courage or…something. Nerves warred within her stomach and she wondered if she was overreacting.

Of course she was overreacting. Whatever attraction she felt between the two of them was surely one-sided on her part.

And it wasn’t as if she would act on it.

“What are you doing Friday night?”

Her eyes went wide, much like Lexi’s had earlier, and she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. Maybe it hadn’t been so one-sided after all?

“This upcoming Friday?” Her voice squeaked and she winced.

“Yeah.” Chris nodded, glanced about as if making sure no one could overhear him. “I wanted to know if you’d like to come to the spaghetti feed at the rec hall.”

She widened her eyes, surprise filling her. “They still do that?”

Chris chuckled, the sound making her spine shiver and settling warm and low in her belly. He had a nice laugh and it came easily, as if he did it often, and she smiled in response. “They do. It’s our first fund-raiser for the holiday toy drive. The dinner is the kickoff.”

“Oh, I remember. I’ve been to a few of those before.”

“Sure you have, being a local and all.” That easy smile was back, as if he gained confidence by getting the awkward stuff out of the way. “So what do you say? You and the kids want to go?”

She knew he was only doing this to be nice. Because she was the lonely, scarred widow back in town and her children had instantly liked him. So he was being polite by extending an invitation.

“My treat,” he added.

“Oh, I can pay the donation fee,” she offered. It was usually no more than ten dollars per person and she knew it contributed to the toy drive. No child should celebrate Christmas empty-handed.