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The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart Page 2
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“There is one way you can repay the Country Fire Service if you feel you owe us one.”
Liesel crooked her chin up at him, curiosity getting the better of her.
“Murray Valley needs more volunteers. Big-time. A nurse would be a great addition to our local crew.”
Liesel felt herself physically recoil from the suggestion.
Not a chance.
She didn’t do hazardous things anymore. Not with a son to look after. Not after the loss she’d suffered.
* * *
Jack knew in an instant he’d overstepped the mark. Her gentle, sunny personality vanished the moment he’d made his suggestion. There was definitely something painfully private she was keeping close to her chest. Fair enough. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his own secrets. Secrets he kept to make his life easier, more honest. Or was that an oxymoron? Keeping secrets to stay honest.
“Liesel! Quit flirting with the handsome fireman,” a female voice called from across the farmyard. “We’ve got to get the kids back to school for pickup!”
Jack and Liesel instantly widened the space between them, staring stricken-faced in the direction of the voice. Liesel looked absolutely mortified and Jack hadn’t felt so caught out since he’d been found snogging the headmaster’s daughter behind the bike shed when he was thirteen. As if by design, he and Liesel simultaneously looked back at each other, saw their mutual expressions of dismay and immediately burst into unrestrained guffaws.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to look so disgusted! I mean, no—not disgusted.” He waved away the choice of words as if the gesture would erase them. “It’s not that you repel me or anything—”
“I think you’d better quit while you’re ahead!” Liesel laughed, wiping away invisible tears from her eyes. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder toward the growing hubbub of children. “I had better go.”
Jack felt a tug of resistance. So soon? “Right. Yeah, of course.” He stepped forward and offered a hand. “Nice doing business with you, Miss Adler.”
What a first-class dill!
Liesel’s green eyes flashed up at him, unsurprisingly bemused. He’d really gone in for the bad conversational hat trick. Nice doing business with you?
She slipped her petite hand into his and offered him a quick shake of thanks. The delicacy of her fingers instantly made him feel protective of her. Not his usual response to a woman. Normally he wanted to protect himself from whatever she might want from him. Time. Commitment. Less time at the fire station. Too much history in that department had made him wary. But this one, Miss Liesel Adler, something about her told him she wanted nothing more than to stand on her two feet.
“See you around.” Liesel threw the words in her wake as she accelerated her brisk walk into a jog to rejoin the group.
Jack watched her retreat round the corner toward the school bus and spoke to the empty barnyard. “I certainly hope so.”
* * *
It was all Liesel could do to keep the hot burn of embarrassment from her cheeks as she rejoined the group.
“Got an eye for a man in uniform, have you, you naughty thing?” Cassie Monroe—or Miss Monroe to the students—raised her eyebrows up and gave her lips a tell-me-more twist. Her friend and colleague didn’t do subtle.
“Hardly!” Liesel shot back at her colleague, a bit more spiritedly than she’d intended.
“Did you get his number?” Cassie continued, as if Liesel hadn’t said a thing.
Liesel sent her a meaningful glare. A glare that she hoped said, Stop talking right now!
“You’re going to see him again, right?”
Nope. Guess the glare hadn’t worked.
“I hardly think it’s appropriate—”
“Anything’s appropriate,” Cassie interrupted, “when you’re trying to get back on the horse again.”
“I’m not trying to get on anything—horsey or otherwise.” This conversation was definitely not going in the right direction.
“Liesel.” Cassie fixed her with a loving glare, hands planted on her shoulders. “It’s time to get back out there and you’re the only one who doesn’t know it.”
“Come along, children.” Liesel actively avoided responding. “Let’s start getting on the bus. Everyone sure they haven’t left anything behind? Rickie—have you got your backpack?”
She felt Cassie sidle up beside her and heard a whisper in her ear. “You’re not going to get away with the silent treatment this time, my dear.” She felt her arm receive a good solid pinch. “After school. Playground. I want details about the hot new fireman.”
Rubbing away the sting of Cassie’s pinch, Liesel couldn’t help but grin back at her friend. They had only known each other since the beginning of term, when Liesel had taken up her new contract. Cassie’s thirteen-year-old son appeared at the nurses’ station a bit too frequently—the only plus side being that the two women had become pretty well acquainted. A couple of girlie nights in, a few tips about where to shop, a detailed who’s who at the school and Cassie had already proved to be a great friend.
Liesel hadn’t known a soul out here in wine country and meeting a fellow single mum, even if Cassie’s son was much older than her own, had taken the edge off the anxiety she’d felt at making the decision to move away from her parents’ house in Adelaide.
In reality, there had been no other option. A disastrous fortnight at the city’s biggest A and E department had proved crisis management was no longer her forte. The other staff had known her situation and had hovered over her, making her feel more paranoid and edgy than confident and comfortable. The two-week tenure had culminated in a disastrous incident where she’d completely frozen over a patient with a gory chainsaw injury. Unacceptable. She’d fired herself before the bosses had had a chance to do it for her.
She’d made the move to Engleton and it just had to work. She didn’t have the energy, or the money, for more change. Small-town life and a job she could do without turning into a bundle of nerves were meant to put an end to chaos. To the memories. And maybe, just maybe, one day she and Liam would be more than a family of two.
In truth, she had been pleasantly surprised to discover her new posting as a school nurse was less calm and more “commotion” than she’d originally thought it might be. Mundane had been her goal but, as usual these days, she found she hadn’t quite made the right call. Apart from the requisite paperwork, it was great fun to spend time with the children, even if she interacted with most of them when they weren’t at their best.
She still had to force herself to take each case as it came, but the occasional heart-racer—a broken collarbone, a deep cut to the forehead, a pencil stabbed into an unsuspecting student’s arm—had all been little teasers reawakening the Liesel who’d spent over five years thriving off the high-stakes charge of saving lives. It was a life she thought she’d needed to lay to rest. But now she felt as though it was her personal mission to provide the children with a safe haven in the school. Everyone deserved that when they were in pain—to feel secure.
It was why she had moved back home after giving birth to Liam. Being on the mountain—the mountain that had taken Eric’s life—had been just too much. His parents had been amazing, more supportive than she could have ever imagined, and knowing Liam wouldn’t be able to see his paternal grandparents as often as they wished made the decision even harder. They did their best to make her feel a part of their own family, but when her own parents had flown over to see her and meet Liam she’d known in an instant where she belonged. Home. Australia. Where the hot sun and burned landscape provided no memories of the snowcapped mountains where her heart had been ripped from her chest three short years ago.
Liesel skipped up the steps of the bus and grinned at the sight of the children jockeying for the “top spots.” Nothing had changed from when she was a kid. Front
seats and backseats were still the most popular and now the mayhem of fifteen children organizing themselves in the middle rows played out in front of her.
The seven-year-olds had clearly had a wonderful time at the farm. Some carefully held eggs in Mr. Jones’s distinctive red cartons in their laps. A gaggle of children were plastering their faces to the windows to catch final glimpses of the sheep and cattle. Others were talking about helping feed the orphaned lambs, and it was just about impossible not to hear Devlin already bragging about how he’d helped the fireman pull apart the iron bars with his own hands to get free of the crush. A quick glimpse toward the barn and she could just see him swinging into the cab of his truck. Yum. Talk about eye candy!
Liesel felt Cassie sending her a knowing look as Jack’s name was bandied about by the children. She sent her friend a smirk and didn’t bother to hide her grin.
This was good. She didn’t feel she was just convincing herself now. It was good. Being around the children all day reminded her of life’s endless possibilities. A year ago she could only see dead ends. Now? Now she was ready to slowly start carving out a new life for herself and Liam.
The last thing in the world she wanted for her son was to have his life curtailed by her grief. It had taken every ounce of energy she’d possessed, but when her parents had offered her use of their holiday let—their “retirement fund”—for the first few months she spent out here in Engleton, she’d gratefully accepted. She’d have to move out when the summer holidays came, but that was a bridge to cross in a few months. It was as if fate had been giving her a gentle nudge. Go on, it had said, take a chance.
Liesel sank into a seat near the driver, a little sigh slipping through her lips. For her son, she would take chances.
* * *
This was Jack’s favorite stretch of road along the Murray Valley and he’d missed it. No doubt about it. Four years was a long time to stay away from home. There’d been phone calls, but a clean break had been called for and he had made it easy for everyone by packing a bag and leaving.
Intuitively, Jack guided the truck through the sloping hills that spilled into a wide river basin. The land was thick with spring vines unfurling new leaves and clutches of miniature grapes. Next year’s wine.
He glanced at the cloudless sky, knowing his background had built in a need to check the weather at regular intervals. His father had done it instinctively and now—well, the apple hadn’t fallen too far from the tree. Just a bit farther than usual.
As the moments ticked past he was surprised to see he’d managed to get to the end of the valley without even noticing. It didn’t take a brain surgeon for Jack to know he’d been distracted by a certain freckly nose. Or was it the wild spray of deep auburn curls? They certainly didn’t detract from anything. A collection of distinctively beautiful parts to make up one heck of a whole. Even with his eyes wide-open he could picture those sexy feline green eyes that a certain school nurse had kept tilting up at him underneath a long set of lashes. Liesel was definitely on a par with just about any adorable-one-minute-and-knee-bucklingly-sexy-the-next movie star he could think of.
Meeting a beautiful woman had been the last thing on his mind when he’d received his transfer notice to move back to the Murray River Valley. Confronting his demons had his plate piled pretty high as it was.
He leaned his head back against the truck’s headrest, one arm navigating the vehicle along the wide country road dividing the vast tracts of vineyards. The cab briefly filled with a bark of laughter as Jack ruefully acknowledged he knew this road so well he could probably close his eyes and daydream all he wanted about Engleton’s new school nurse. As if on cue, his left hand automatically flicked on the indicator and his foot eased off the accelerator before he’d even looked to the right to acknowledge the arched gateway he’d been through thousands of times.
River’s Bend Winery.
His family’s legacy.
His father’s, more specifically. John Granville Keller, locally known as Granville due to his father before him having carried the same name.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, a clutch of tourists stepping out onto the veranda of the modern wine-tasting center. He’d seen the plans but had never seen the real thing. It looked good. Becca had done well.
As if thinking about her was strong enough to draw her to him, he saw a familiar blonde figure emerge from the group on the veranda. He slowed the truck to a stop, just remembering to slip the gear lever into Park before jumping out and giving his sister a good old-fashioned bear hug and swing round.
“Hey, there, stranger. I like the new threads! Fireman blue suits you.”
Good old Becca. He could count on her for not giving him a case of the guilts. That was his father’s specialty.
“You’re looking good, sis! And so’s your new tasting center.” They both turned to give it an appraising look. The sleek modern lines were beautifully crafted to fit in with the lush riverscape surrounding them. He couldn’t wait to have a good nosey round—and snag a chilled bottle of the unoaked chardonnay Becca had been bragging about in her emails.
“It beats that old shack you were so fond of.” He felt his sister give him a good solid jab in the ribs. He gave her a playful jostle in return before turning her to face him, serious this time.
“How are you? Really? Are you good?”
“Really good, Jack. Just missing you. Staying for tea?” She turned her hundred-watt smile on for him and he couldn’t resist pulling her into another deep hug.
“Not today.” She pulled back from the hug with a frown.
He tapped the brim of his CFS cap. “Duty calls!”
It might have been true—but it was an excuse he’d used all too often for the past few years. They’d spoken on the phone a lot, emails, texts—but the real thing was something he missed. Staying away from his family had been harder than he had thought—but if he was ever going to prove to his father that he could amount to something then complete focus was necessary.
Thank heavens Becca was such a star. She knew everything there was to know about River’s Bend—the crops, the land, their impressive output and, more important, she showed a business acumen that would’ve been as natural a match to the Australian Securities Exchange. He was proud to call her his kid sister, even though the ponytails and plaster-covered knees were a thing of the past.
“You know you’re always welcome. No need to wait for an invitation.”
“I know, Bec. I know.” He let her go and made a little show of wiping away some invisible dust on her shoulders. “Right, well. Best get on to see Old Man River, then.”
“Go gently with him, Jack.” His sister’s voice was loving but held a genuine note of caution. “It’s not been easy for him the past few years.”
“I wasn’t the one who forced me to choose between a life in the CFS or the farm.” He instantly regretted his words when he saw the shots of pain in his sister’s eyes and tried to lighten the atmosphere with a playful boxing move. “At least you came out the winner—running a gold-star winery!”
“This was never about winning or losing, Jack.”
“I know.” He pulled one of her hands into his. “I’m sorry, that was a low blow. You’ve done an amazing job here, sis. Far better than I would have. I mean it.”
He gave her a contrite smile. “Don’t worry, Bec. I’m an older and wiser version of ‘that wild Keller boy.’” He did a spot-on imitation of the town’s former roving police officer and enjoyed his sister’s smile at the likeness.
He didn’t have a record. No. But he did have a history. Nothing horrible, just the usual teenager-gone-off-the-rails sort of stuff that happened when...when stuff happened.
He climbed into the truck, threw a wave at his sister and eased the truck into first gear. “We’ll get that dinner soon, I promise!”
&nbs
p; Good ol’ Becca. She really was her father’s daughter, growing up steeped in the station’s quirks and customs. Stubborn as a mule and born to work the land. As a little girl, she was always being retrieved by one of the farmhands from among the vines, where she would spend hours painstakingly setting up her own “wine-tasting” sessions for her dolls. His traditional father had just presumed Jack would take over the business and that his sunny-faced daughter would marry well and be content to enjoy River’s Bend from the sidelines.
As a team, they would’ve made quite a dynamic duo. But life hadn’t panned out that way. The winery was her calling and, after his mother’s death, the CFS had been his. Too bad his father hadn’t seen things that way.
Jack began taking deep, slow breaths. He’d need all the reserves of calm he had to get down the long track past the sleek tasting room, the outbuildings that made up the actual winery, and down the slope into the curved drive fronting the stone expanse of the Keller family home. He may not have spent the past four years here but it was definitely home.
The sprawling three hundred hectares encompassed so much. The eucalyptus-rich expanse of river land he had escaped to as a boy on hot summer days. The exquisitely manicured gardens and orchard where he and Becca had played hide-and-seek. The wooded site near the bridge where they’d spread his mother’s ashes after the fateful out-of-control fire so many painful years ago. The new barn built over the burn site as if it would erase the fact Ava Keller had died there. The same barn where he’d had the final, gut-wrenching fight with his father about choosing the fire service over a life on the land.
He stopped for a minute and let himself take in a delicious lungful of the blossoming vines. Coming home was tougher than he had thought. He’d spent virtually every day here until he was twenty-five. He hadn’t thought jumping between a life as a CFS volunteer and his duties at River’s Bend had been such a wayward existence. But his father had—and had forced him to make his choice.
And he had. He was genuinely committed to the fire service and all it stood for out here in the country. The people out here relied on volunteers to help fight the annual bushfires, pry them out of cars, even rescue the odd kitten—or little boy, as in today’s case. Now he was in a position to make it even better. Without this service people would die. As his mother had. Keeping the local station on the map was essential.