The Firefighter's Match (14 page)

Chapter Fifteen

A
lex stood in Karl’s Koffee and waited. It felt like the first time he and Sam had opened the doors of Adventure Gear. As if they were standing on the brink of an enormous cliff, seconds before hurtling themselves down the side with only ropes to depend on for their survival. This thing, this feeling of risking everything, of being so certain yet so terrified—this is what he’d lost in life. It had struck him on the drive away from the airport that he’d kept disappearing to new vistas in the past year to find this feeling, this sense of laser-sharp focus. That was a mistake. The focus wasn’t to be found on a mountaintop or in a rainforest; it was inside God’s purpose for him.

Hokey as it sounded, Alex hadn’t had this strong a sense of God’s purpose in years. He felt ridiculous and unstoppable at the same time, and he needed to share that energy with JJ—and eventually with Max. Trouble was, that first leap off the cliff involved a very, very steep drop—one that would change his life forever.

JJ pushed through the doors of Karl’s Koffee and slid into the booth opposite Alex. There was something about the way she looked in a T-shirt...thrown together, unadorned yet perfect. Wet tendrils of her hair still clung to her neck in fascinating curves. Even guarded and annoyed, her presence had a capacity to ground him and launch him at the same time. The power of his need for her to understand what he was about to do—and why he was compelled to do it—doubled with one look of her suspicious eyes.

“I’m going to fire Sam.”

He’d intended for that to get her attention, and it did. “How? Why?”

“We’re equal partners, so I’m not quite sure how yet, but the why is easy. He’s become something—maybe he has always been something—different from what Adventure Gear was supposed to be. He and I, we can’t be partners anymore. I think I’ve known that for months, but I just couldn’t see how Adventure Gear could go on without both of us. Now I see Adventure Gear
can’t
go on with both of us.”

“What if he fires you first?”

“I’ve thought of that. I think he’s probably thought of it, too. But here’s the thing—companies, if you build them right, have a soul of their own outside of their owners.” He pulled out his father’s compass, needing something to occupy his hands while he tried to explain this inexplicable thing he was going to do. “AG has to have a character, a culture, that’s bigger than just me or just Sam. I may be wrong, but I think the way I see things is more closely aligned with Adventure Gear’s culture than how Sam does. Sam is a cunning businessman, but he stopped being Adventure Gear a while ago. I just wasn’t willing to see that—mostly because of how my father saw our partnership as our greatest achievement. I don’t think Dad would be very proud of that partnership right now.”

JJ’s glance flicked around the room the way it did when she felt insecure. “Why do I need to know this?”

“Because I’ve come to realize that Max’s accident, the settlement, you, me, all of that is tied up in the same gift. It’s all part of some radical, drastic opportunity.”

She sat back. “I hardly think Max would agree with you on that one.”

He was messing this up, allowing his desperation to communicate to tangle his tongue.
I need better words, Lord. Help me help her understand.
Alex pushed out a breath. “I’m not saying Max’s fall was a good thing. It’s a horrible thing. But I see now how good can come out of it. The whole Romans 8 ‘all things work together for good’ vibe—I believe it. I have always told Sam that the worst problems were just radical, drastic opportunities. That’s always been my gift. I just couldn’t see how it applied to all this until yesterday when I tried to leave.”

She crossed her arms. It bugged him. It was such a posture of defense, of disbelief compared to his own openness and enthusiasm leaning over the table toward her. “And how does it apply?”

Alex forced himself to take a deep breath. “We have to take Adventure Gear apart. Dismantle it down to the bare bones of what it’s always been. And it’s always been about getting people out into the wonders of nature. To enable people to go where they didn’t think they could go, push themselves into places they didn’t think possible, expand their horizons. Only lately, we’ve become about upscaling that experience. Fancy gear, space-age technology, luxury where luxury never really belonged.”

“Sounds like just a lot of pretty words to me. I still don’t get why I need to hear your business revelations.”

Alex pressed his hands to his temples, reaching for the right words. “When I think of Max, I’m filled with sadness over all he’s lost. Over what our ferocious push for new technology has cost him. I kept looking for a way to fix his world, knowing that there wasn’t any way I could. Then, as I was driving to the airport, I realized I could restore his access to the world he’s always known. I could give him new ways to be the old Max. That’s what Max really needs—not a pile of money.”

“Max’s treatment is expensive. He definitely needs money.”

“Yes, but not
just
money. Money is just the tool, not the true solution.”

JJ grimaced. “You know, it’s always the people with the money who say stuff like that.”

The waitress came and filled their coffee cups, and Alex used that time to gather his thoughts. The moment had become so important to him he was choking on his own words.

“I see this as so much bigger than Max. I mean, it’s all about Max, but it’s about how we
all
move forward. Max, me, AG, you, everyone. There’s really only one way out. The only way Adventure Gear—the only way
I
—can make amends for what’s happened is to make a way for Max to do the things he loves with the body he has now. It’s the same vision I’ve always had for Adventure Gear, just with a new audience.”

JJ’s face changed just the slightest bit. A shade of the edge came off, replaced with the smallest spark of curiosity. That tiny spark lit Alex up like a burst of dynamite. “And not just Max,” he went on, feeling the energy kindle again. “Soldiers are coming home from war with new injuries, new disabilities that are stealing recreation from them in ways that
don’t have to happen.
Instead of taking all our energy and using it to create comfort or luxury or extreme access, what if Adventure Gear used that same energy to create basic access for Max and people like him?”

JJ’s arms uncrossed. “Access for Max?”

He was getting through to her. She’d heard him. She might not buy into the goal that now pulled him along like a tidal wave, but she’d at least hear him, and that’s all he needed for now. “Yes!” he nearly shouted, making people in the coffeehouse look up with curious faces. “Adaptive recreation. It’s the solution for all of this. No one could bring to it what AG could bring. And Max could be on the crest of that wave. Not just benefitting from it, but being part of it. I don’t just want to give Max a settlement. I want to
give Max a job.
A purpose. A place at a new AG working to build an adaptive technology division.”

She blinked at him, disbelief warring with a cautious hope. “Why are you doing this?”

He knew that feeling, had felt that for hours after realizing what he had to do. It made no business sense, and then again, it made all the sense in the world. It meant risking everything, but compared to the dead feeling he’d been fighting for days—months, even—it wasn’t a risk at all; it was survival. He gave her the only answer that he had. “I have to.”

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “No, you don’t. You don’t have to do anything. You can walk away from all of this and never look back.”

“No. That’s where you’re wrong. I can’t walk away from this. Believe me, I tried. I’m supposed to be here. Now. Taking AG apart to put it back together in a new way, a way that matters again.” She shook her head again and he grabbed her hand. She recoiled a bit, but he couldn’t make himself let go. “I need to do this for all us. I want to be the man who shows you that some people can be trusted. I cannot leave things the way they are. You shouldn’t leave things the way they are, either. This is the path that gets everyone to healing. I know it. I promise you it is.”

Alex saw a tiny crack in the warrior armor, the glistening in her eyes he’d seen when she was desperate enough to let him in close. “You can’t ask me to bank on this.”

“Then don’t bank on it. It’s crazy, I know that. I’m just asking you to give me a chance. Don’t write it off. Let me prove it to you. Watch me, JJ. I’m really good at what I do, and I feel like my whole life is riding on this. Just watch—that’s all I ask.”

It took her forever to answer, but her quiet “Okay” launched him in a way that nothing had in years.

“Okay, then.” Alex felt like his whole world had tilted, but not one detail of the artsy little coffee shop had changed. Life was exploding on the inside, and the only clue was the small spark in JJ Jones’s eyes. He nodded at her. “I’ve got to catch a plane. There’s a company in Denver I sort of need to dismantle. It’s going to be a big mess for a while, but the finale is going to knock your socks off.”

JJ rolled her eyes, a momentary glimpse of the old JJ. “You and your high-drama words.”

“Yeah,” he said, sliding out of the booth. “You just watch.” With JJ still staring at him, Alex walked up to the bakery counter at Karl’s and slapped a fifty-dollar bill down on the counter. His days of upscale living were likely behind him, but he still had a few grand gestures up his sleeve. “Send two dozen goodies over to the firehouse for me, will you? The works. Just let the lovely lady over there at the booth know when they’re ready. She’s on her way back. Me, I’m on my way to climb a mountain.”

The low reluctant laugh he heard from JJ as he left the coffeehouse? Well, that was pretty much the best music he’d heard in ages.

* * *

Melba picked a hot-pink feather out of her hair as they stood at the footbridge that served as the race finish line. “That was the most fun I’ve had in ages.”

JJ chuckled at the memory of the firehouse guys running in the Breast Cancer Awareness 5K in not only their Real Men Wear Pink shirts but also outrageous pink feather boas Abby Reed had secured in secret. “They were all good sports today, weren’t they?”

Melba held open a plastic bag while JJ tried to wrangle the unwieldy feathered scarves inside. “Except for Chad. Jeannie says we shoved him way out of his comfort zone. And with the way his stepson Nick was taking pictures, I’d say it’ll be all over town by lunch if it isn’t already. And then there’s Jesse. When he started doing twirls over the finish line, I nearly tripped I was laughing so hard. I hope Nick got that, too.”

“Max would have done something ten times worse, I assure you.” It was an old reaction, a comment that wouldn’t have caused a bit of notice before Max’s accident. Now, innocent as it was, it cast a pallor over the happy conversation, stinging like a cut that kept reopening when she got careless.

Melba’s eyes filled with compassion. “Hey, he’ll be in it next year. I always see wheelchair racers in the big city marathons, so why not Max?” She forced a smile. “His wheelchair would probably be so tricked out it would look like a parade float.”

“Yeah.” JJ couldn’t manage much of an enthusiastic response.

Melba cinched the bag and set it aside. “How are you? Really?”

“I wish I knew how to answer that.” JJ redid her ponytail elastic and slumped down on the curb where they had been cleaning up after the race. “I’m good and awful. Feeling better and feeling worse.”

Sitting down beside her, Melba blew out a breath. “Been there, believe me. Actually, there are days where I’m still there. I love Clark to pieces, and I’m so excited to marry him, but none of that changes the continual drama that is Dad.” She leaned in toward JJ. “But this is a good place to have all that drama. People will come around you and Max the same way they come around me and Dad. It’s a good place to call home, JJ. Clark thinks you’re a fine addition to the brigade and I know we’d all hate to lose Jones River Sports just because Max isn’t up to speed quite yet.”

“I do like it here.”

“You know, what
you
like does matter. I know it has to be all about Max right now—believe me, I get that—but there’s a life for you here, too. And boy, I sure am glad to have some friends my own age around. And to hear Violet Sharpton tell it, you’ve made a few friends yourself. Just so you know, no conversation had at Karl’s is ever truly private.”

JJ sighed. “Alex.”

“Talk about relationships with serious complications. I can’t believe the whole situation. There’s enough blame to go around and nobody really wins when it’s all over.”

It was odd that she’d chosen words so close to how Alex had described it. “Well, that’s the thing. Alex thinks he has a way for this to come out good for everyone. But with so many lawyers involved and Max on the warpath the way he is, I don’t see how it can all work out.” She gave Melba a short explanation of Alex’s plans and how she hadn’t decided how she felt about any of them.

Melba pulled her knees up and perched her chin on top of them. “Whoever said Gordon Falls was the place to live the simple life lied through their teeth, huh? I have to say, Alex sounds like the kind of guy who could make an amazing vision like that happen. No one could blame Max for wanting him to stay out of his life, either.” She turned her head to face JJ. “Sounds like a job for yarn.”

JJ frowned. “Huh?”

“Not yarn, exactly—and hey, don’t look at me like that. I mean prayer shawls. The ladies’ Bible study—which you should join, by the way—knits them and we pray over them and give them out to people who need healing or comfort. I think you and Max and even your Mom need a whole lot of that.”

JJ wasn’t exactly sure how some old-fashioned prairie accessory could work such wonders, but then again, who was she to argue with anything that sounded soft and comforting right now? The firehouse had plush teddy bears to give kids in emergencies, so why shouldn’t there be a grown-up version? “Okay.”

Melba grinned. “Great. What’s your favorite color?”

A warm glow crept up from under JJ’s ribs as she remembered Alex asking her the same question. She knew his was green. “Um...red?”