she didn’t mend that fence and show Brady and Ava the way back to each other, she would have failed at the same mission in her life.
Twice.
She clenched her fists at her side and took a deep breath. Hopefully she—and Brady—wouldn’t regret this. She swallowed hard before speaking. “I’d like to keep the job.”
“Then we need a truce.” He held out his hand to shake hers. “No playing up the fire department in Ava’s eyes. No crazy stuff—like roof climbing or bull chasing.”
Caley rolled her eyes. “Do you really think I’d put Ava on the roof?”
“I don’t know what you’d do.” His eyes searched hers, hand outstretched in an offering. “I don’t know you.”
That burned more than it should have.
“Miss Caley!”
Ava’s excited shout made them both turn toward the house. She stood framed in the open back door, waving something wildly over her head. “Your pager just went off!”
Of all the timing. Caley turned back to Brady just in time to see him withdraw his hand.
“Duty calls.” His lips thinned into a tight line and he swiveled toward his fence.
“My duty is with your daughter when I’m here.” Caley grabbed at his arm, his sun-warmed skin heating her palm like a branding iron. She dropped her hand to her side, noting the way Brady’s eyes darted to his arm as if he’d been burned. Chemistry or not, she had something to say. And he needed to hear it. “My volunteer work is strictly after babysitting hours. You need to know that.” She kept her promises. She would do right by Ava—that was her first priority. Didn’t he see that? I don’t know you. The pain shook her deeper than she’d expected. They’d had a connection. On the roof of her house. In the bed of his truck. In the kitchen, surrounded by broken glass. How could he say that?
“But what about when the job is over?” Brady removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair, sweeping the dark strands over his head before securing the brim back in place. “What then?”
“What’s it matter to you?” She swallowed the hurt she couldn’t tame. “Then I’ll just be a female firefighter.” She strode away before he could answer.
And more importantly, before she could figure out why tears burned the backs of her eyes.
Chapter Ten
O f all the places a child could be on a Saturday morning, Ava seemed perfectly content to relax by Nonie’s bedside, playing Go Fish with a crinkled deck of cards and arguing over which game-show rerun to watch on TV.
Caley was jealous of a ten-year-old.
She shifted in her hard chair, the vinyl seat chilly through her capri pants, and shivered. The nursing home must keep the thermostat on fifty degrees, but Nonie didn’t seem to notice, even wearing a thin flowered housedress. The flow from the air vents rustled the pictures Ava had colored on the bulletin board by Nonie’s bed. She and Ava had been there for almost an hour already, and neither her grandmother nor the younger girl cared about the cold. They were having too much fun.
While Caley watched from the sidelines, alternating between mentally replaying her conversation with Brady from the evening before—and wondering what on earth she’d thought coming back to Broken Bend would actually accomplish. She wasn’t cheering her grandmother up, a near stranger was. Nonie didn’t need her now any more than she had when Caley left home at the age of eighteen, determined to make her own way in the world.
And shake off the proverbial leash her father had fixed on her.
Nonie slapped a card on top of the rolling bedside table. “Eight matches! I win again.”
“Next time we’re playing to ten.” Ava frowned as she gathered up the cards and stacked them into a pile. “Or twelve.”
Nonie puckered her lips, bright red with lipstick today. “Bring it, little missy. I’m not afraid of you.”
Ava giggled. “I’ve got to use the restroom.” She hopped off the foot of the bed and headed into the adjoining
Twice.
She clenched her fists at her side and took a deep breath. Hopefully she—and Brady—wouldn’t regret this. She swallowed hard before speaking. “I’d like to keep the job.”
“Then we need a truce.” He held out his hand to shake hers. “No playing up the fire department in Ava’s eyes. No crazy stuff—like roof climbing or bull chasing.”
Caley rolled her eyes. “Do you really think I’d put Ava on the roof?”
“I don’t know what you’d do.” His eyes searched hers, hand outstretched in an offering. “I don’t know you.”
That burned more than it should have.
“Miss Caley!”
Ava’s excited shout made them both turn toward the house. She stood framed in the open back door, waving something wildly over her head. “Your pager just went off!”
Of all the timing. Caley turned back to Brady just in time to see him withdraw his hand.
“Duty calls.” His lips thinned into a tight line and he swiveled toward his fence.
“My duty is with your daughter when I’m here.” Caley grabbed at his arm, his sun-warmed skin heating her palm like a branding iron. She dropped her hand to her side, noting the way Brady’s eyes darted to his arm as if he’d been burned. Chemistry or not, she had something to say. And he needed to hear it. “My volunteer work is strictly after babysitting hours. You need to know that.” She kept her promises. She would do right by Ava—that was her first priority. Didn’t he see that? I don’t know you. The pain shook her deeper than she’d expected. They’d had a connection. On the roof of her house. In the bed of his truck. In the kitchen, surrounded by broken glass. How could he say that?
“But what about when the job is over?” Brady removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair, sweeping the dark strands over his head before securing the brim back in place. “What then?”
“What’s it matter to you?” She swallowed the hurt she couldn’t tame. “Then I’ll just be a female firefighter.” She strode away before he could answer.
And more importantly, before she could figure out why tears burned the backs of her eyes.
Chapter Ten
O f all the places a child could be on a Saturday morning, Ava seemed perfectly content to relax by Nonie’s bedside, playing Go Fish with a crinkled deck of cards and arguing over which game-show rerun to watch on TV.
Caley was jealous of a ten-year-old.
She shifted in her hard chair, the vinyl seat chilly through her capri pants, and shivered. The nursing home must keep the thermostat on fifty degrees, but Nonie didn’t seem to notice, even wearing a thin flowered housedress. The flow from the air vents rustled the pictures Ava had colored on the bulletin board by Nonie’s bed. She and Ava had been there for almost an hour already, and neither her grandmother nor the younger girl cared about the cold. They were having too much fun.
While Caley watched from the sidelines, alternating between mentally replaying her conversation with Brady from the evening before—and wondering what on earth she’d thought coming back to Broken Bend would actually accomplish. She wasn’t cheering her grandmother up, a near stranger was. Nonie didn’t need her now any more than she had when Caley left home at the age of eighteen, determined to make her own way in the world.
And shake off the proverbial leash her father had fixed on her.
Nonie slapped a card on top of the rolling bedside table. “Eight matches! I win again.”
“Next time we’re playing to ten.” Ava frowned as she gathered up the cards and stacked them into a pile. “Or twelve.”
Nonie puckered her lips, bright red with lipstick today. “Bring it, little missy. I’m not afraid of you.”
Ava giggled. “I’ve got to use the restroom.” She hopped off the foot of the bed and headed into the adjoining
Similar Books
