A young widow must choose between her past and her future when she returns to her hometown and is charmed by a sexy firefighter.
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Ruby Sinclair-Matthews never intended on moving back to the roll...
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Late afternoon sun warms my back as I cross the parking lot to the fire station.
Though a blanket of red, orange, and gold covers the nearby trees, it's unusually warm for November. Every season in Lakeside is beautiful, but fall has always been my favorite. There's something magical about the smell of fallen foliage, and cruising through the countryside surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colors.
Except today, I'm too distracted to appreciate it.
The entire way here, my thoughts lingered on Ruby. I knew she was moving back this weekend, but I hadn't expected to run into her so soon. And I sure as hell didn't realize it'd have the impact it did.
She really is more beautiful than I remember, with a fragile quality about her that's new. Back in high school, that girl was intimidating as fuck. Too attractive for her own good, and quicker with a comeback or smartass reply than most guys I knew. She was the untouchable older woman who barely gave me the time of day...and I loved every second of it.
She's changed since then, and after what she's been through, it's no surprise. Still tough as nails, though. You would have to be to single-handedly raise a child on your own. I watched my own mother do it and it wasn't easy. All I can say is that woman is a saint. When I was younger I didn't appreciate her efforts as much as I do now, and I thank her every chance I get. Sometimes, you have to grow up before you're able to see things with a clearer perspective.
I hitch my duffel bag higher onto my shoulder and push through the front door. Once I'm in the fire house, the nutty scent of coffee hangs in the air, and the cool blast of air conditioning rushes over my skin.
The lobby has an open floor plan with vaulted ceilings and window walls that flood the room with natural light. There's a multi-side fireplace in the center, and a red-speckled brick wall overflowing with encased certificates, trophies, and old photographs.
Same as I do at the start of every shift, I pause in front of one framed photo in particular. It's a candid shot of three young firefighters goofing off in their bunker gear with a date scrawled in the corner that reads June 22nd. It was taken fourteen years ago. They're smiling and having fun, completely unaware that none of them would live to see the end of the week.
I run my finger along the side of the frame and straighten it against the wall. "Hey, Dad. I miss you."
"Talking to yourself again, Lark?" Chief Myers says as he leaves the administration area and enters the lobby.
When I glance over, he's smiling. He looks the same as he did when I was a kid, except now silver strands peek through the sandy brown hair around his temples.
"Just sayin' hi to my old man," I tell him. "What are you still doin' here?"
"The wife's out of town with her sisters so I thought I'd get some extra work in." Chief sidles up next to me and follows my gaze, and for a brief moment, we share a comfortable silence. "I took that picture," he finally says. "Did you know that?"
