Fireman Dad (17 page)

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Authors: Betsy St. Amant

BOOK: Fireman Dad
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The chief blanched, and Mrs. Brady gasped, the
magazine she’d been flipping through falling from her fingers. “Come again?”

“I don’t mean to shock you, sir, you’ve been through enough tonight.” Jacob shrugged. “But I’ve struggled with this for weeks and I respect you enough to tell you the truth. At first I was afraid for my job. I know what happened with the fireman you shipped to Baton Rouge.”

The chief snorted and Mrs. Brady shot him a glare. “You did what?”

“Let the boy finish speaking.” The chief waved her off.

Jacob darted a glance between the two of them before cautiously continuing. “My brother was one of the men laid off this past round, and I’ve been helping them financially. I couldn’t afford to risk my job, especially now that I’m up for the promotion.” He hesitated, then met the chief’s gaze full on. “But with all due respect, sir, I love your daughter too much to be that concerned anymore.”

Mrs. Brady’s jaw gaped and the chief nodded to himself, his throat bobbing several times before he spoke. “A week ago, even two days ago, I’d have told you to keep your distance. My little girl’s been through enough in her short life, and me and her, well—” He coughed loudly. “We’re just now finding our footing again. But after tonight …”

Jacob’s stomach tightened as he waited for the end of the chief’s sentence. Hope and fear mingled in a knot he didn’t dare yet attempt to untangle.

“After tonight, I see the man you are.” The corners of the chief’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Your heart’s right there on your sleeve, son. I didn’t ever want to be one of those sops who had a brush with the grim reaper
and turned all soft, but to be honest, I can’t imagine a better man for my daughter.”

Joy burst in Jacob’s heart and he straightened in surprise, elation threatening to send him right out of his boots. “Thank you, sir. You won’t be sorry.”

“Now if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it.” Chief shot him a warning look, his bloodshot eyes drooping as he settled back against his pillow. “But the way I see it, if you can change Marissa’s stubborn mind about firemen, you deserve her.”

Jacob wasn’t sure if anyone could do that. But one thing was certain—he’d gladly give it a fair fight. “I appreciate it, sir. I’ll do my best.” He took a few steps toward the door, eager to leave before the chief could change his mind and before Jacob could beat himself up for taking such a risk with his boss in a hospital bed. “I’ll leave now so you can sleep.”

“By the way, that promotion to driver is yours if you want it—regardless of what happens with you and Marissa. I don’t run my department that way.” The chief glanced at his wife’s pursed lips and then rolled his eyes. “At least, not anymore.”

Jacob smiled. “Yes, sir.” He opened the door, disbelief blurring his vision. His main obstacle to Marissa was removed. Well, not the main one, but the most intimidating one, to be sure. He’d have to think about the promotion opportunity further. But there was time for that.

“Jacob?” the chief called.

He turned in the hallway. “Sir?”

Chief offered a tired grin. “Good luck.”

Chapter Eighteen

E
arly morning sunshine peeked through the sheer curtains, sending thin streams of light onto Liz’s couch where Marissa sat, cradling a mug of tea between both hands. She leaned over the cup, inhaling the aromatic steam, and groaned. “I can’t believe I was up all night. I haven’t done that since Owen was teething.”

“Maybe the caffeine will help.” Liz yawned, leaning back against the cushions where she sat beside Marissa. “If not, you can always hit up a Starbucks on the way home.”

“Owen was sleeping so soundly, I couldn’t bear to wake him up and confuse him even further.” Marissa shot her friend a weary but grateful smile. “Thanks again for your help. I don’t know what I would have done without you last night.” Her smile faded as the memories fought for reign in her exhausted mind. “Or without Jacob.”

Liz curled her legs underneath her on the couch and leaned forward, a gleam of interest replacing the sheen of exhaustion in her eyes. “He has his heroic moments, even outside of the fire department, doesn’t he?”

“He was a rock.” Marissa swallowed the knot in her
throat. “And I hurt him.” She filled Liz in on the details of their parting just a few hours earlier. “I can’t believe I was so harsh. But that kiss …” She briefly closed her eyes. “It terrified me.”

“Because it showed you your feelings?” Liz asked.

Marissa slowly shook her head. “Because it proved what I already knew.”

“Don’t leave a girl hanging.” Liz sipped from her own mug of tea. “What’d you know?”

Marissa took a deep breath, the truth hovering on her lips, unable to be denied. “That I love him.”

Liz squealed, her tea sloshing dangerously in the cup as she jerked forward and set the mug on a coaster on the coffee table. “I told you!” She cleared her throat in a pathetic attempt to regain her composure. “I mean, I’m glad you finally see it.”

Marissa plucked at a loose thread in the afghan covering her lap. “Seeing my dad in a hospital bed …” Her voice broke off and she sniffed. “Everything you’ve told me, everything I’ve heard at church recently and known my entire life but was never able to put into practice was suddenly right in front of me. I had a choice to make.”

Liz nodded for her to go on.

“I could choose to stay safe and block myself off from the love of my father, because of our past.” Marissa rolled in her lower lip, thinking. “Or I could embrace it and start life again. He was given a second chance, and I’d like to think I was, too, in a different way.” She smiled as a wistful melancholy settled over her weary shoulders. “And after Jacob kissed me, I was staring at the same choice but in Technicolor.”

“What did you choose?” Liz’s brow furrowed, as if afraid she already knew the answer. “You just said
you hurt Jacob. I’m guessing that means you’re still not ready?”

“My heart says one thing, my head says another.” Marissa stared out the picture window behind the couch at Liz’s backyard stirring to life. A baby bird took a dip in the concrete bath next to the flower beds, and a frog hopped from one stepping stone to another toward the storage shed. Marissa’s father was still in a hospital bed, and the man she’d grown to love despite every attempt not to thought she despised him. Yet the world continued to revolve while she sat on Liz’s couch, dizzy from the revelations of the past twenty-four hours.

Liz’s soft voice broke the silence. “Then it sounds like you need to decide once and for all who you’re going to listen to.”

“After this incident with my father, I’ve decided I can’t listen to either my heart or my head. I need to ask for God’s direction, like I used to do before I was so burned.” The words nearly stuck in Marissa’s throat but she struggled to get them out, determined to take positive steps toward a new future—one full of life, not of fear. “But after tonight I don’t know if Jacob will forgive me. He poured out his heart, and I practically stomped on it and ran away.”

“He’ll forgive you. Jacob can’t hold grudges for long.” Liz picked up her mug and took another sip.

Marissa’s fingers worried the blanket threads. “I don’t know, Liz. You didn’t see his face.” Or his eyes. That haunted expression of regret and heartache. Jacob had been her knight in shining armor the entire night, going above and beyond the call of duty for her dad and for her, and she’d reacted by shoving his feelings back in his face and storming away. How heartless could she be? It
was obvious how much he risked for her—and yet she gave nothing in return other than rejection.

Again.

“I’m sure he’ll understand. You’ve had an emotional night.” Liz shifted positions on the couch, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward to punctuate her statement. “But you can find a way to show him how you feel. Maybe through something at the festival?”

“Maybe.” Marissa sighed. “But the other issue is my father. Even though it’s been my own fear that’s kept Jacob at a distance, Jacob said all along my dad wouldn’t like the idea of us together. He’s right.” She shook her head. “I can’t allow Jacob to ruin his career and let you guys down because of me. It isn’t right.”

“Listen to me.” Liz grabbed Marissa’s hand and squeezed it between her own. “The only thing that would let me down now is if you and Jacob sacrificed any more than you already have. It’s not Jacob’s job to provide for my family. We’ve gratefully accepted his help, but it’s ultimately God’s job to take care of our needs. I’m trusting Him for that—not Jacob.” Liz smiled and released Marissa’s hand. “So take me and Ryan and Olivia out of the equation. This needs to be a threefold decision.” She pointed to Marissa and ticked off on her fingers. “You, Jacob and God. That’s it.”

Liz was right. If Marissa was truly going to put her fears behind her and allow a fresh start for her and her dad, and for her and Jacob, she was going to have to go all out. Either God was leading her down these paths, or He wasn’t. Her heart assured her He was—and that meant He would eventually take care of the details.

If only she’d step back out of the way long enough to let Him.

Jacob stifled a yawn, his long night at the hospital shading his thoughts with scribbles of gray dejection. He’d come home and napped for a few hours, but his talk a few hours ago with the chief echoed in his mind and wouldn’t allow his brain to slow down for deep sleep, despite the lingering fatigue. He threw open the storage shed door and grabbed his Weed Eater, determined to be productive if nothing else. The festival was tomorrow, and while the yard was already in good shape, it could stand another trim.

He roared the motor and welcomed the buzz interrupting the drone of his own thoughts as he mowed around the edge of the shed, the noon sun beating down on his shoulders and neck. The crew of vendors and volunteers would be arriving that evening to set up their booths for the big day, and the festival would start at ten o’clock sharp the next morning. He’d get to see Marissa—that is, if she wasn’t too busy running around like a headless chicken all day—and then what? After the festival, he’d have no reason to see Marissa on a daily basis, unless he purposefully risked his heart a second—no, third—time and continued to pursue her while she dodged his every advance. He’d thought obtaining the chief’s blessing would put things in motion, but if Marissa was determined never to get involved with a fireman, what choices did he really have? Would knowing she had her father’s blessing even matter? And where did Owen come into play?

He finished trimming around the shed and moved toward the house, pausing to whack a stubborn patch of weeds at the end of his driveway. Stubborn, just like Marissa. But also just like himself. If he really loved her, he wouldn’t stop trying to win her, regardless of how
insane it might seem. Because no matter how crazy it was to continue to throw his heart out there for a beating, he was crazier about Marissa. He wouldn’t give up—couldn’t. But without a change, his efforts could easily stay in vain. What choices did he have?

Other than quitting his job.

Jacob pulled up the Weed Eater, not wanting to risk whacking the side of his house and damaging the machine as the ugly thought invaded his mind. It seemed to be the only answer to calm Marissa’s fears, but how could he give up his retirement and benefits? Give up being able to help his family in need? Firefighting was all he knew. He didn’t have a degree to fall back on, had no other means of providing besides his lawn business, and that wasn’t nearly enough income alone.

He could take the promotion to driver, and advance his career. But without the promise of extra pay, he’d rather stay where he was, in the midst of his passion—firefighting. The career of a driver would be different. He’d only be doing the duties he loved now if the station was understaffed or in the middle of a big emergency. However, if Jacob ever hoped to make it to Captain, he’d have to go through the process.

And if he went through it now, Marissa might be willing to go through it with him.

His cell vibrated in his pocket, interrupting the flow of thoughts, and he turned off the Weed Eater before yanking the phone from his pocket. “Hello?”

“Jacob? It’s Marissa.” Her timid voice sent tremors through his body and he dropped the Weed Eater on the ground.

“Are you all right? How’s your dad?” Now it was his turn to panic from the other end of a phone line. A fresh
burst of sympathy wafted through him at what she must have felt when he called her the night before.

“He’s getting to come home tonight if all goes well today with the remaining tests.”

Jacob’s shoulders slumped and he exhaled with relief.
Thank You, Lord.
He picked up the Weed Eater and switched his phone to his other ear as he began to cart the machine back to the shed. “That’s good news. I’m glad you called.” He swallowed the knot in his throat, hating the awkward silence pulsing through the connection. Had he ruined things between them forever with his kiss? That hadn’t been his intention. But the memory of her lips still burned.

“There’s more.” Marissa’s voice lifted in excitement. “They caught the arsonist. Dad got a call earlier at the hospital with the good news. It wasn’t a family member or a fireman like I feared.” She snorted a humorless laugh. “I feel ridiculous now for ever suspecting, but my dad’s paranoia was contagious.”

Gratitude flooded Jacob’s body as he shut the shed door. He knew it couldn’t have been any of his friends or coworkers, but to have their names cleared was a relief. “So who was it?”

“Some local jerk seizing an opportunity for publicity.” Marissa’s tone hardened. “According to the detective who called my dad, this guy just wanted his fifteen minutes of fame and knew the public would assume it was related to the layoffs. Some people are so sick.”

“It’s an ugly world,” Jacob agreed, locking the barn door. “But I’m glad our men are off the proverbial hook.”

“Me, too.” Marissa hesitated. “Dad is actually looking forward to the festival tomorrow. I can’t believe how
much has changed, literally overnight.” A smile lit her voice. “God is good.”

Jacob stopped short, nearly tripping over the ramp leading into his shed. “I’m glad you’re realizing that again.” Although
glad
didn’t even begin to touch his level of joy. But exactly how much had changed? If Marissa was finally in the position to let go of her past and embrace her faith again, maybe her calloused heart would soften toward him, too. Maybe if she knew her father wasn’t an issue between them anymore, they could take a step forward. Hope sprung in Jacob’s chest and his pulse began to beat a hard rhythm in his veins. It was definitely worth a shot. “Marissa, I need to tell you something. Last night after you left, I talked to—”

Something clicked from Marissa’s end of the line.

“Uh-oh. My mom is beeping in on the other line. I better take this, might be about Dad again. I’ll see you tomorrow at the festival. Tell the volunteers tonight if they need anything to call my cell, okay? I’m going to be finishing up some stuff from home but I can come out if there’s a dire need.”

“All right, but Marissa—”

But she had already disconnected. Jacob slowly slid his cell into his pocket, leaning back against the side of the shed and resting his head against the rough wood. He’d have to wait until the festival or maybe even afterward to talk to her. And yet again, he’d be taking a huge risk that it would do any good. What if Marissa knew they had her father’s blessing and didn’t care? What if she was truly never able to get past his career? What if even his sacrifice of switching jobs to become a driver didn’t matter?

What if she rejected him once and for all?

Jacob’s throat closed at the idea of never getting
to see Marissa again, never getting to watch the sunlight turn her hair to the color of honey, never getting to tease Owen or slap him a high five. He wanted so much more than that. He wanted to eat dinner with the two of them every night, wanted to push the shopping cart for Marissa through the grocery store, wanted to check the oil in her car and hound her for not going to get her tires rotated on time. All the things good husbands did.

God, I know this situation is in Your timing, but this is getting really hard.
He couldn’t sit still another minute, not with the urgency to capture Marissa’s heart for his own strumming through his veins. But what could he do? Pushing her before she was ready wasn’t the answer—he’d proven that much last night with his impromptu kiss. Jacob released a tight breath and cast a cursory glance around his yard, frustration gripping his spirit and refusing release.

Maybe one more round with the Weed Eater wouldn’t hurt.

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