Rescued by the Firefighter

A Fresh Start

Paula Reynolds is looking for a new job, a new home, a new everything—except for love. Determined not to repeat old mistakes, she’s staying away from romance. She never counted on falling for handsome firefighter Clint Donatelli. Clint is used to saving lives, but with the beautiful Paula, he faces a challenge. Getting to know her is a daunting task, especially since he’s just as wary of relationships. When he learns a stunning secret from her past, he must choose—to live the way he’s always lived, or trust in a new love.

“You seem to know what it takes

to cheer me up.”

“Distraction, but it’s too far to drive here all the time. I’ll have to think of other ways to preoccupy you more often.” He grinned, his index finger tapping his cheek. “How about…”

She took advantage of his pause. “How about you being my distraction?” Her pulse skipped as the thought grew and the words slipped out.

He looked surprised but it faded to a wide smile. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time. I’m happy to do the job, ma’am. I promise to be one big distraction from now on.”

She loved his smile. “I hope you keep your promise.” He opened the car door and she slipped inside, aware that telling him about her mother had lifted a burden from her shoulders. She’d never told a living soul, and he’d listened without judgment and made her feel less guilty than she’d felt in years.

GAIL GAYMER MARTIN

A former counselor and educator, I’ve enjoyed this career as an author, writing women’s fiction, romance and romantic suspense since my first book in 1998, with this being my fifty-second novel. My books have been honored with many national awards, and I have more than three and a half million books in print. I’ve also authored Writing the Christian Romance, released by Writers Digest Books. A cofounder of American Christian Fiction Writers, I’m also a member of the ACFW Great Lakes Chapter, RWA and three RWA chapters. When not writing, I enjoy traveling, speaking at churches and libraries, and presenting writing workshops across the country. Music is another love, and I spend many hours involved in singing as a soloist, praise leader and choir member at my church, where I also play handbells and handchimes. I sing with one of the finest Christian chorales in Michigan, the Detroit Lutheran Singers. I’m a lifelong resident of Michigan and live with my husband, Bob, in the Detroit suburbs. Visit my website at www.gailgaymermartin.com, or write to me at P.O. Box 760063, Lathrup Village, MI 48076, or at gail@gailgaymermartin.com. I enjoy hearing from readers.

Rescued by the Firefighter

Gail Gaymer Martin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light,

we have fellowship with one another,

and the blood of Jesus, his Son,

purifies us from all sin.

—1 John 1:7

Thanks to my Facebook group, Readers of Gail Gaymer Martin’s Books, for their support, ideas, helpful comments and wonderful reviews. I also thank two firefighters who provided excellent details to guide me in being realistic in my portrayal, Chuck Harrelson of Colorado and Tim Kohlbeck of Wisconsin. If I erred, I can’t blame them. Thanks to my agent, Chip MacGregor, and as always my deepest thanks and love to my husband, Bob. Without his support, proofreading and patience (especially that), I wouldn’t be the writer I am today.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Recipe

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Chapter One

Paula Reynolds looked down the church aisle and watched the guests being seated. She felt as jittery as the bride. She checked her watch and studied her cousin. “How are you doing?”

“Nervous...and anxious.” Ashley sent her a playful grin. “Today my life changes forever.”

Paula gave a nod, unable to voice the words that were caught in her throat. Forever had been her cousin’s hopes when she married Adam, but fate had had other plans. Ashley had endured a bitter blow when Adam had died in Afghanistan, leaving her and a baby son he’d never met. The memory overwhelmed Paula.

She moved closer, trying to avoid crushing Ashley’s wedding gown, and gave her a hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

Ashley’s eyes grew misty. “I know you are.” She held Paula in her embrace and gave her a squeeze.

“Don’t wrinkle that gorgeous dress.” She eased out of Ashley’s arms and shifted back toward the doorway to wait for the music to signal her down the aisle. A bridesmaid. She’d never have believed it six months ago.

Images swept through her, filling her with longing. She wished she’d had siblings of her own, but she smiled now, enjoying the friendship of her two cousins, who’d hurried to her side when they’d learned of her mother’s death. They’d opened their arms as if she were another sister. With their recent closeness, Ashley had asked her to be a bride’s attendant. Make-believe sister or not, her cousins’ love touched her more than anything had in years.

Silly how she’d worried that Ashley felt obligated to ask her, and to give Ashley an out, she’d insisted the honor wasn’t necessary. Thankfully, her cousin’s determination won over, and when Paula accepted, her heart had tripped and the ripple of pleasure surprised her.

Ashley had not only insisted she participate in the wedding, but the bride-to-be solicited her sister, Neely, and her to help select an appropriate wedding dress for a widow. They found the lovely gown Ashley wore today, a calf-length cream-colored dress with three-quarter sleeves and scooped neckline with a formfitting waist that fell in soft folds over Ashley’s trim figure. Today her cousin looked gorgeous as she stood close to her father, who waited to walk her down the aisle.

Ashley beckoned to her again, concern on her face.

Paula hurried to her side. “What is it?”

“Is something wrong? You were looking at me, and I thought—”

“I was admiring your dress.” She chuckled. “We all loved it the moment we saw it.”

Tension vanished from Ashley’s face. “Look at you. I’ve never seen you in a gown. You’re beautiful.”

No one had called her beautiful before. She lowered her gaze to the pastel coral dress she wore, a color in autumn leaves floating from the trees outside the church. “Thanks. I love it.”

Images of fall flashed through her mind, a time of rejuvenation as the summer foliage took a rest anticipating a rebirth in spring. That was what she wanted for herself. Her lingering memories needed to be buried so her life could sprout new hope. Though her optimism didn’t always deaden her difficult past, little by little she’d seen the sun. She had her cousins to thank for that.

“I love this time of year.”

Ashley’s voice cut through her thoughts. “I know. It’s when Devon and I settled in as a couple following my accident.” Her eyes grew misty. “I’ll never forget wakening that day with a gorgeous angel—”

“Angel?”

“Okay, it was Devon, but he was like an angel. He was peering at me and holding poor little Joey, who was so frightened.” She blinked tears from her eyes. “He saved me in so many ways. He heard Joey crying and then saw the downed tree and came running.”

“He’s that kind of man, Ash, a gift after all you went through.” Her cousin’s remembrance filled her heart. She couldn’t picture herself being rescued by anyone.

Ashley glanced at her dad and then her watch. “I wonder what’s taking so long.” She lifted concerned eyes to Paula. “Is Devon up front yet?”

Paula stepped back to the doorway and shook her head. “He’ll be there.” She drew back to her stance near the wall, her eyes on the chancel. The ceremony should have started five minutes earlier, but that was life, too. Things didn’t always happen as planned.

With Ashley’s past heartbreak in her mind, Paula wished this time her cousin’s marriage would last a lifetime, the kind of union she’d dreamed about for years. Though still single at thirty-five, Paula would still enjoy Ashley’s wedding and sometimes let her thoughts consider marriage to a wonderful man—whether it would happen or not.

Organ music diverted her from her thoughts. The men were filing out from somewhere, and she gave Ashley a thumbs-up. Her heart skipped as she began her trek down the aisle. Ahead, Devon, his brother, Derek, and his firefighter friend Clint Donatelli observed her slow pace to the front. Though uncomfortable with all eyes on her, she managed to concentrate on the happiness she’d found living in Ferndale, welcomed by her cousins and Uncle Fred, who had graciously invited her to stay with him until she found her own place. She’d do that one day. Soon, she hoped. But that precluded finding a job and finalizing her mother’s estate. Too much to think about today.

The scent of the flowers drew her back, and she gazed at the men, still observing her snail-paced journey. She’d grown fond of Devon with his sturdy frame and not one ounce of fat—just solid muscle. So was his friend Clint, handsome in his dark suit, tall and lean, his Italian heritage reflected in his dark brown hair flecked with gray and classic features. But the stereotypical Italian image ended when it came to his deep blue eyes.

Clint was her idea of a perfect man, but those dreams, as much as she loved them, seemed out of reach. Her relationships with men had always ended in disappointment. Sometimes worse.

Drawing her focus from Clint, she concentrated on her long, slow trek. When she reached her place at the front, she turned to admire Neely gliding down the aisle, wearing a hunter-green dress shimmering in the light from the windows and carrying a bouquet the same as hers, a blend of autumn flowers—golden black-eyed Susans, orange roses, flame calla lilies, green hydrangea blossoms and burnt-orange hypericum berries.

The music grew louder, introducing the bridal fanfare. The guests rose and faced the entrance as Ashley moved forward on her father’s arm. Startled by her tender feelings, Paula blinked to clear her blurred vision as tears sneaked from her eyes and formed rivulets down her cheeks. With everyone’s attention on Ashley, she brushed away the moisture, digging deep to shoo away her emotion. This kind of reaction had been unwelcome in her life. Whatever bad happened, she’d always buried her emotions, unwilling to give way to something as useless as tears.

Ashley nudged her sister with the bridal bouquet, and Neely grasped it as Ashley and Devon exchanged vows. The familiar words swept over her, leaving her with questions. How could anyone promise to love someone forever, to be faithful and true to them in sickness and health until death? Her parents’ lives had provided no example of love or faithfulness. Her own experiences left her empty and frustrated.

Instead of wasting time thinking about the past, she needed to focus on the future, just as Ashley was experiencing today. She studied Ashley’s and Devon’s faces, seeing what she’d never seen in her own reflection. Even Neely’s gaze toward her husband, Jonny, seated in the second row, was filled with a kind of beauty that she’d always considered part of a fairy tale—Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty awakened with a kiss.

Her own experiences identified more with the Beauty facing the Beast but without the loving tears that turned the beast into a handsome prince. Instead of tears, her emotion had turned to ice. The man who’d promised her a lifetime of happiness but never offered her a ring had left her with a wounded heart and an empty purse. A longtime relationship filled with promises as cold as a winter ice storm.

But today the moisture in her eyes unleashed more positive thoughts. Could the new door that had opened with her uncle’s family unlock her heart and her trust, as well? Life didn’t always offer such choices. Yet here she was in a new environment surrounded by a supportive family.

As gentle as a breeze, the wedding kiss ended, and Ashley reached for her bouquet. On Devon’s arm, she smiled at the guests as they moved down the aisle to greet them in the narthex before they left for the hall. Neely latched arms with Devon’s brother, and Clint stepped to Paula’s side. Her pulse skipped when he locked his arm to hers, noting his strength beneath the dark suit that complemented his over-six-foot frame.

Her reaction frustrated her, but she managed a smile and ignored her pulse, which was galloping like an unbridled mare. Somewhere in her subconscious, an alert sounded. Vic had been out of her life for almost three years, but she still knew better than to even think romantic thoughts. Not again. She’d fallen prey before. Reacting to someone she barely knew put her on dangerous ground. Yet, despite her wise counsel, Clint melted the ice in her veins and sent warmth coursing through her. Her mental struggle floated away on the organ music. Today was about Ashley’s wedding and not some kind of ridiculous fairy-tale moment.

* * *

Clint guided Paula down the aisle, surprised at her response when he’d taken her arm as the others had done. He didn’t think of her as timid, but he’d felt her guard mount at his touch. When they’d met for the ceremony rehearsal, she’d stood back, observing before she became involved. Beneath her quiet demeanor, he sensed her mind snapping. And that was what did it. She’d aroused his interest. No one had done that for years. He’d chalked it up to her vulnerability. Firefighters had a penchant for helping people in trouble. Though she smiled and chatted once she’d warmed up, beneath her smile, he sensed something deeper churning inside a locked trunk. Yet she couldn’t hide those lovely eyes, the color of caramel, which seemed to match her long, wavy hair.

He almost shook his head at his concocted analysis. The woman was new to town. Some people took longer to get comfortable. He’d spoken a little to her and sensed she wasn’t a churchgoer. Yet faith seemed a stronghold for her family. It was what had helped Ashley through the loss of her young husband, a man who’d never seen his newborn child other than in photographs. Clint’s chest constricted, wondering how he might feel being denied that amazing privilege of seeing a child created from the love of a man and woman.

A smidgen of envy wheedled into his consciousness. Nothing good ever came of envy. Not one thing. Envy caused displeasure and longing, sometimes resentment. Envy thwarted what lay ahead and signaled lack of trust in the Lord. He dismissed this negative thought and pinpointed a new goal.

He hoped the occasion would lower Paula’s guard. He would enjoy learning more about her, and he juggled ideas how to make it happen. His discouragement grew while standing in the reception line. Seeming on edge, she appeared to know few of her relatives and spent most of her time explaining who she was by mentioning her mother, Dorothy, who’d died recently. If she wasn’t comfortable with her relatives, what hope did he—a stranger—have?

The last guest greeted them before heading for the reception hall, but he’d been warned they had to stick around for photos. He studied Paula’s expression and took a chance. “Do you mind posing for pictures?”

“Do you?”

He jerked his head back, an instinctive reaction to her abrupt response. “Not really.”

“Me, neither.”

Her short response held a playful tone, and she made the cutest face, her nose wrinkled while the corner of her mouth curved to a faint grin. He plowed ahead. “Do you think we can escape?”

“If you know Ashley, you already have the answer.”

He liked her snappy responses. “Then we’d better give in and follow them.”

She released a dramatic sigh and hooked her arm through his, different from her earlier reaction, which made him curious. They followed the others to stand beneath the lovely cross where the stained-glass windows puddled brilliant colors on the carpet.

“Ready to plaster on a smile?” He gave her arm a squeeze.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. How about you?”

Making a move, he slipped his arm behind her back and guided her toward the photographer. “Same here.”

She considered him a moment and, to his pleasure, she didn’t draw back.

Rather than scaring her off, he left well enough alone. He’d acted like a naive schoolboy, noticing for the first time that girls were different. Today the same awareness slithered down his spine. It was natural. Four years had passed since being with a woman who attracted him.

He’d pretty much steered clear of women until now, since Elise had walked out of his life without one backward glance. Why she’d waited so long, so close to their wedding day, he’d never know. No wonder he’d been confused. Perhaps one day he would figure out what he’d done wrong.

Trying to be subtle, he studied Paula from a peripheral view. She didn’t seem ready for anything either, so who was to say he and Paula couldn’t be friends? Friendship served both involved. Fun, laughter, companionship. Maybe that was all he needed—time to adjust to a woman’s companionship. It might be easier than he thought.

Paula touched his arm, an inquiring expression on her face. “Come back to planet earth. The photographer is giving you a look.”

So was she, and he liked it.

* * *

Music filled the hall as Paula entered with Clint at her side. She spotted the deejay near the dance floor, a middle-aged man who’d probably been entertaining wedding parties for years.

“I think our seats are over there.” Clint beckoned her to follow, and behind him she admired his physique as he guided her to the bridal table. At first, she’d felt trapped, and it made no sense. Clint had been pleasant company, polite and tempting her smile to appear. For too long, she hadn’t smiled much, and, since coming to stay with her uncle Fred, she’d found herself chuckling at his amusing comments and her cousins’ easy wit. Today she discovered the same kind of playfulness in Clint.

Though his comments didn’t draw out belly laughs, they tickled her. Sometimes he echoed her own terse responses, teasing innuendos that he tossed out on the fly. Nothing at all like Vic. When she allowed herself to face the truth, the “trap” was different. She’d felt knotted in a web but not a spider’s dinner, instead a maze luring her to follow a path different than she’d experienced before. Though tempted by the adventure, a thought struck her. Had Ashley put Clint up to entertaining her? Maybe he was the one who really was trapped.

Irritation bristled down her back. Why dwell on what had been? Somehow she had to stop comparing Clint to Vic. Better she let the present cover the ashes of her past. Beauty from ashes.

“Are you all right? You’re quiet.” Clint pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit.

She managed a pleasant look. “Thinking.”

He slid the chair beneath her and studied her a moment, his dark blue eyes gliding across her features and causing unfamiliar sensations to roll through her belly. “Problems?”

The single word caught her unguarded. “Not really. I was...I was trying to recall where I’d heard the phrase beauty from ashes.”

“Scripture.” He sat beside her as other attendants ambled to the bridal table. “I’m not good at telling you where in the Bible.” He shrugged. “But I know it’s there.”

“Thanks.” He’d impressed her, and what he’d said made sense. Only God could take ashes and make them beautiful. Sometimes she thought about church and faith, realizing life would have been different if she’d had something...someone to lean on. Clint had strength to lift a tree. Definitely strong enough to lean on. Still, he wasn’t God.

“I’m guessing there’s more on your mind.”

Her head snapped upward, nearly giving her whiplash. He’d shifted the chair toward her, and in her preoccupation, she hadn’t noticed.

“I didn’t mean to impinge on your thoughts. Sometimes I can’t stop myself from probing.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “I suppose that’s the firefighter in me. We need the facts. Details. Saving property and lives need quick thinking.”

“But I don’t need rescuing, so you don’t need facts.” She managed a smile.

He shrugged. “Most of us do at one time or another.”

“I guess we all like details. Tell me about you.” Her knack for reversing the conversation gave her control, and she could avoid talking about herself.

“Firefighter...but then you know that. Single.” He held up his left hand and spread his fingers.

No ring, but she’d known that. “How have you escaped so many women looking for a husband?” Instead of a smile at her teasing comment, he couldn’t hide his frown before managing a grin.

“Lucky, I guess.”

Cover. She’d used the same technique. She turned in the chair, her knees brushing his. “You’re kidding, I know.”

He gave her a crooked grin and shrugged, but his eyes probed hers a moment before he looked away. “Truth is I was engaged once, but it ended before the wedding. I’m glad, since I don’t believe in divorce.”

The statement reminded her of her earlier thoughts in the church. How could two people promise a lifetime of love and faithfulness when so much of the world didn’t seem to value it at all? “That’s your religious belief?”

“Yes and no. It’s biblical, but it’s also a gut feeling. I’d only marry if I knew deep in my soul this person loved me with all her heart, and she trusted that I felt the same. Too many things change in life, and I don’t think marriage should be one of them. We need to hang on to a few constants. Faith is one of those I cling to.”

The word cling gave her pause. Her faith fluctuated from one day to the next. “You’re lucky.”

“I’m blessed.” A frown slipped to his face. “Are you saying you’re not a believer?”

His expression made her reluctant to speak. “I wasn’t raised in any faith.”

Instead of drawing back, he eased forward, as if longing to ask about her beliefs, but silverware tinkled against china and glass, and Paula turned to see what caused the commotion. She spotted Devon leaning forward to kiss Ashley as the guests cheered and tittered. She’d forgotten that old kiss-the-bride tradition.

Toasts to the bride and the table blessing ended and, grateful for the break in conversation, Paula eased back in the chair as the waitstaff delivered food to the table and the meal began. Conversation buzzed through the room, and though she and Clint talked, the topics were general and unimportant. The issue of faith seemed to hover above them.

As dishes were cleared, the music began. Clint rose and extended his hand. “Care to dance?”

She hadn’t danced in years and the idea of being in a man’s arms—Clint’s arms—appealed to her. Yet again the question rose. Did he feel obliged to dance with her? Despite her questions, she followed him to the dance floor, her own longing taking precedence. The swish of the silky fabric against her legs awoke her feminine self, a persona she’d ignored the past few years.