Mr. January Page 3

  Bonus: the rest of the week was theirs to fill any way they chose.

  Thanks to his injuries, Adam’s schedule this week was Monday, Wednesday, Friday from ten to six. From then until the doctor cleared him for regular duty, he worked a straight Monday through Friday, forty-hour week. Adam wasn’t thrilled with the temporary schedule, but hell, he was lucky to be here at all. Only because he’d assured Kent Cummings, his shift’s captain, that his wrist had all but healed.

  For that reason, he’d ditched the sling and the ace bandage and used both hands on the keyboard. Now he was paying for fudging the truth. The swelling in his wrist looked the same as before he’d arrived at the station, which counted for something. Aspirin should take care of the pain. Adam popped two tabs, dry.

  At the moment, the building was quiet. Only he, Patty, the station’s the Fire Marshall, and the admin staff were around. Everyone else had gone out—three on a medical call and seven plus the captain on a fire call. The other two were at one of the local retirement homes, conducting the fire and safety classes the crew took turns teaching.

  Missing the action and tired of sitting around, he stood, stretched and sauntered to the front desk, where the secretary, Miranda, kept an eye on people who wandered in. “I’m taking a break,” he told her.

  Hands flying over the keyboard astonishing quickly, she smiled and nodded. “Enjoy.”

  Not likely. His injuries prevented him from the weekly physical training sessions, the daily workouts in the gym upstairs, or participating in the mandatory inventory and equipment checks the rest of the crew performed each morning. As sidelined as a firefighter could be.

  Adam thought about hitting the books for fifteen minutes, but studying was almost as bad as data entry. Lieutenants had a lot more paperwork than the firefighters they managed.

  Did he really want this promotion?

  Hell, yeah, both to make his pop proud and because he was ready to move into management.

  Maybe he’d limp over to Rosemary’s and grab a coffee. As he headed to his locker to grab his jacket, his cell phone buzzed.

  He slid it from his pocket and checked the screen. Samantha Everett. Huh. It’d been over a week since that morning at Rosemary’s, but he still thought about her.

  “Adam Healey,” he said, not wanting her to know he’d input her name and number the day they’d met.

  “It’s Samantha Everett. The one who makes the baked goods?” She sounded stiff and nervous.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi. Um, William has been at me day and night to visit the fire station. Is it okay to bring him over after his nap this afternoon? That is, if you’re not too busy on your first day back.”

  Adam liked that she remembered that, liked the idea of showing her and William around. Way too much. Because he wanted to give the kid the thrill of seeing the trucks and rescue vehicles up close, he told himself. “I have time. How about fifteen hundred hours? That’s military time for three o’clock.”

  “Perfect.”

  Two hours later, the whole crew had returned to the station and gathered in the apparatus bay, aka the garage, readying the vehicles and their personal stuff for the next call. Liam, Owen, Tony, Rob, and Ethan checked the equipment on the fire truck. Daniel, Gus, and Hank gathered in the small biohazard room to clean the medical equipment used on the most recent paramedic call, while Nate, Rafe, and Max put the ambulance to rights. Captain Comings logged data into the computer call log. Needing another break from the computer, Adam joined them.

  Suddenly, the in-house intercom squawked to life, signaling an announcement rather than a call from the 911 dispatch serving both the fire and police departments. “Adam, you have visitors,” Miranda said.

  His buds eyed him curiously.

  “It’s for a tour around the station,” he explained, his eagerness to see Sam making his voice gruff.

  Ignoring his sore ankle, he strode toward the entry area with barely a limp. He found Sam and William checking out the station’s first fire truck, circa 1913, displayed in the center of the visitor area.

  In the seconds before they noticed him, Adam studied Sam. Short, shiny black hair framing her face, with long, wispy bangs. Big, pretty eyes, lit with the obvious joy she took in her son’s excitement. Her heavy, knee-length coat hung open, revealing a bright blue turtleneck sweater over jeans, and ankle books.

  She looked good, real good.

  As soon as he formed the thought, she glanced up and caught him checking her out. Her cheeks flushed prettily, and, for a moment, he couldn’t look away.

  Then William spotted him. “Adam!”

  Sam laughed. “He’s pretty excited.”

  “So I see. Hey, sport.” Adam ruffled the boy’s hair, which was as black as his mother’s, but not as shiny. He gestured to the coat tree in the corner. “Why don’t you hang up your jackets?”

  They did.

  He didn’t have much experience with five-year-olds, but they all liked visiting the apparatus bay. “Ready to look around the station?”

  The boy beamed and nodded.

  Adam nodded at the tote on the floor beside Sam. “We can store that for you while you take the tour.”

  “Actually, these for you and whoever else is here.”

  She handed the bag to Adam. Right away, he smelled something good. “Scones,” he said, licking his lips.

  “And muffins. My way of thanking you for taking the time to show us around.”

  He couldn’t believe she’d brought treats for him and everyone. No woman had ever done that, not even his ex when they’d been dating.

  Miranda opened the window of the glass barrier where she sat and stuck her head out. “What you got there, Adam?”

  “Scones and muffins,” Sam said, smiling at her. “There’s one in here for you, too. I’m Samantha Everett.”

  “Miranda Zindell. You’re the one who makes those yummy goodies they sell at Rosemary’s. Thanks to you, my diet is forever ruined, but what a way to go,” she said good naturedly. Moments later, she joined Adam in the entry area and helped herself.

  Captain Comings and Fire Marshal Johnson, who obviously had treat radar, headed toward Sam. “Did someone say muffins and scones?” Captain Comings said.

  Adam made the introductions, and the two high-ups helped themselves.

  “We’ll pass out the rest of these as we go,” Adam said.

  News traveled fast, and by then, Erin, the station’s HR specialist, and everyone else knew about Sam’s gift. As they flocked around her and murmured appreciatively, Adam introduced her and William to the guys she didn’t know. Grins bloomed on every face, even Hank’s solemn mug.

  She’d made a big hit, and not just for the treats. Her sparkling eyes and big smile lit up the station.

  A couple of the guys really checked her out. Adam didn’t like that. She’d brought William here for a tour, not a flirt session. At his warning frown, his crewmates quickly returned to their tasks.

  Adam disposed of the empty bag then turned to William, who had noted everything with interest. “Let’s head for the apparatus bay. That’s a fancy way of saying garage, and is where keep all our vehicles.” Once there, he posed a question sure to delight the boy. “Whenever we get a call, we have to move fast. Do you want to see how we quickly get from the second floor, where we eat and sleep, all the way down here?”

  “Yeah,” William said.

  Adam showed him the brass pole housed in a small room off the apparatus bay. “We slide down this.”

  His eyes almost popped out of his head. “Can I try?”

  Sam looked as if she wanted to try, too. Adam gave his head a slight shake.

  “I wish you both could, but it’s against regulations.”

  “How come?”

  “It’s not safe for kids or non-firefighters. Years ago, a boy about your age tried to shinny up. Unfortunately, he couldn’t hold on. He fell and broke his leg.”

  “Wow,” William said.

  “Let’s
look at the vehicles in here.” Adam pointed out the different fire trucks, the rescue cars, and the ambulance. “Ever been on a fire truck?” As he’d expected, William shook his head. “How would you like to sit in the right front seat?”

  His seat if he got promoted to lieutenant. When, not if, he silently amended.

  The boy’s jaw dropped. “Can I?”

  “If your mom okays it.”

  “Of course.” Sam’s eyes telegraphed she was pleased.

  They sure were pretty. Green, with flecks of gold in them, the kind a man could lose himself in. But with his nosey buds just waiting for a chance to razz him about Sam….

  Adam turned to her son. “Up you go, sport.” He made a step out of his hands and boosted the little guy up.

  Then William sat up in the seat, straining to see out a window that was too high for him. The kid looked cute up there.

  Adam explained about the computer screen between the two front seats, and how it provided information, including maps and driving routes. Not that he or the other guys ever relied on the computer for the best route anywhere. The engineer and the man in the right seat kept the information stored in their heads.

  Liam ambled over. He was a stand-up guy, but his shaved head, huge frame, and fierce expression tended to intimidate those who didn’t know him. William chewed his lip.

  Adam elbowed his bud. “Smile, will ya? You’re scaring the kid.”

  Immediately, Liam’s scowl lifted into a grin, transforming his face. “Hey, William. Thanks again for the muffin. In case you forgot, I’m Liam. I’m an engineer–the guy who drives this rig.”

  “Oh.” His fears forgotten, the kid looked thoughtful. “How come you don’t drive, Adam?”

  Liam chuckled. “It’s not as easy at it looks. I spent quite awhile, getting qualified to do it.”

  “That’s right,” Adam added. “On our shift, there are two engineers. Liam is one of them, and the other is Max. Remember him?”

  William nodded. “He came to the restaurant after you put out the fire. And he ate his scone today really fast.”

  “Cute kid,” Liam told Sam.

  “He is, isn’t he?” She smiled fondly at her son.

  Her open show of love for the boy touched Adam. William was a lucky kid, luckier than Adam had been at that age. At any age. Most of his parents’ love and affection had gone to Marcus, with Adam coming in a distant second. Even after Marcus had passed on.

  Suddenly, the distinct voice of Sarah McCone, one of the dispatchers, filled the air, announcing a call.

  “Gotta go,” Liam said. “Next time.”

  Adam doubted there would be a next time. He didn’t plan on seeing Sam or William again.

  Adrenaline pumping as it did whenever a call came through dispatch, he steered his visitors into the hall, out of the way of the crew, where guys were suiting up with the clothing they’d laid out on the floor near the aid cars and fire truck. “You can watch from here.”

  “Why is Liam putting on those clothes?” William asked as Liam quickly pulled on his shirt, pants and suspenders, then bent to lace up his steel toe boots.

  “It’s called turnout gear, and it will help protect him from the fire.”

  As Liam and the three men riding with him jumped into their seats, the big garage doors rolled open. The truck headed out, its siren shrilling before it even reached the street. An aid car followed.

  “That was exciting,” Samantha said as the sound of the siren faded away.

  Adam agreed. He hated being sidelined, but he couldn’t do anything about that. And Sam and William were waiting.

  “Ready to see the rest of the station?” he asked.

  *

  “Thanks, Adam,” Samantha said some thirty minutes after the fire truck and aid car had whisked the firefighters away. William had insisted on using the bathroom by himself, and she and Adam were waiting for him outside the men’s room of the station. “This tour meant a lot to my son.” She’d had a great time meeting everyone and spending time with Adam. He was good with William, treating him like a person instead of a little boy to be ignored. “I enjoyed it, too,” she added.

  “So did I.” He almost sounded surprised.

  His pale-blue eyes warmed and settled on her mouth. As if he wanted to kiss her. That would be a very bad idea, Samantha told herself, but her body wouldn’t listen. Her nerves hummed, and she had to fight the urge to lean in and let him. Hoping William hurried out of the bathroom, she pulled his parka from the coat tree.

  To her relief, Adam’s cell phone rang, and his focus changed. He checked the screen, and with a look she couldn’t read, answered. “Hey, Nella.”

  Signaling that he’d be right back, he stepped away, out of earshot.

  He was involved with someone named Nella.

  Well, shoot. Samantha was disappointed but not surprised. A smart, handsome and sexy guy like Adam was bound to have a girlfriend. Anyway, she didn’t want or have time for a man in her life.

  Yet the way he’d looked at her….

  By the time Adam returned, she’d pulled herself together.

  “That was my father’s day nurse,” he said.

  “Oh?” Samantha frowned. “Is he sick?”

  “He has emphysema, and he’s having a bad day,” he said. “Nella’s going to take him to see his doctor.”

  “Will he be okay?”

  “Temporarily.” Adam scrubbed his hand over his very short hair.

  Samantha felt for him. Even though her parents had urged her to forgive Jeff for cheating on her and advised her to “win” him back, which made her furious every time she thought about it, she still loved them. She felt lucky they were both strong and healthy. “I’m sorry.”

  “It is what it is.” Adam checked his watch then glanced at the men’s room door. “William’s been in there awhile. Maybe I should check on him.”

  Her son chose that moment to exit the bathroom.

  “Are you okay?” Samantha asked.

  He nodded. “I washed my hands and everything!”

  Adam’s grim expression lightened. He chuckled, the sound rusty, as if he hadn’t made it in a good long while. “Good job, sport.”

  “I’m hungry, Mom,” William said.

  “Which is why we’re leaving right now. It’s time to start dinner. Do you have anything to say to Adam, William?”

  “Thank you.”

  Adam nodded. “My pleasure.”

  Samantha helped her son into his coat and then shrugged into her own. As she exited the building, she felt Adam’s eyes on her.

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  Without knowing quite how it happened, Adam found himself ducking against the icy sleet that pummeled his head and shoulders and climbing the steps to the covered porch of Sam’s place. He’d last seen her on Monday, three days ago. On this, his final Thursday off until he started his five-days-a-week light duty, he’d met a couple of the guys at Rosemary’s for breakfast. Then he’d stopped at the old man’s to deliver a muffin and try to make nice. That hadn’t gone well, but it never did.

  Now here he was, knocking on the door of the house that had been built a century ago by the wealthy orchard owner Byron Marks, and had passed through the family to his great granddaughter, Lucy. Adam had never been inside, but everyone in town knew that Lucy had spent a good deal of her considerable fortune to keep the place in tip-top shape.

  As he blew on his cold hands to warm them, an older woman clutching an umbrella strolled by and blatantly checked him out.

  “Morning,” he called out.

  “Good morning.” She smiled and continued on, disappearing around the corner.

  Sam opened the door, wearing a distracted look. She’d pinned her bangs back with a silver clip, for all the good it did. Most of the strands had escaped. Water darkened the cuff of her sweatshirt, and a rip just above the knee of her faded jeans offered a tantalizing glimpse of her thigh.

  “Adam.” Her eyebrows lifted in surpr
ise. “Were you just talking to someone?”

  “A woman heading west up the street. Short gray hair, about five feet five, red umbrella and boots.”

  “That sounds like Betty Randall. She’s a widow who lives on a couple of acres, across the field behind us. She has lots of time on her hands and keeps an eye on the area, either by walking or driving around.”

  “Like neighborhood watch.”

  “In a way. She’s a bit of a gossip, but she’s been sweet to William and me. What are you doing here?”

  Hell if he knew. He scratched the back of his neck. “Figured I’d stop by and see how you’re doing. You aren’t baking right now, are you?”

  “In this outfit?” She glanced down at herself and laughed. “When I work, I wear an apron and a hairnet. You don’t want to see that. Although, while William is in kindergarten, I should be mixing ingredients for later. Instead, I’m trying to fix a small plumbing problem.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m here.”

  “You know about plumbing?”

  “I’m a firefighter. I know a lot of stuff. What’s the problem?”

  “The hot water faucet in the tub upstairs is leaking, and I’m pretty sure the washer needs to be replaced,” she said. “The trouble is, I can’t get the old one off, to take it to the hardware store and get the right size. I’ve been trying to remove it for a while now.”

  “I can do that.”

  She widened the door. Adam wiped his feet on the welcome mat and stepped into a gleaming slate entry. Beyond it, gleaming hardwood floors and thick, oriental rugs covered the living and dining rooms. He noted Sam’s fuzzy pink socks. “Should I take my shoes off?”

  “You’re fine.”

  He followed her into a living room of expensive-looking armchairs and a big couch, oriented toward a stone fireplace. The plastic crate piled with toys sitting against one wall looked like a poor relative.

  The house had s solid, warm feel. That and the faint aroma of cinnamon, coffee, and home cooking made it feel like what he’d always imagined a real home should be. His mom had never been much of a cook, and the drafty place where his family had lived when he was a kid had smelled of canned food, frozen dinners, and cigarettes.