Marry Me under the Mistletoe

CHAPTER TWO

“LADDER 1 RESPOND to art-gallery fire on Lemon Street and Sixth.”

The dispatcher’s voice over the gong galvanized everyone into action. Hearing the address, Rick felt his adrenaline kick in. Lemon Street? After parking his car, he’d walked by that gallery earlier in the morning with Tessa. Only a florist shop separated it from the Hansel and Gretel shop.

He didn’t plan to go there again and had planned to send his housekeeper to buy the gingerbread man for him. Not only did he have time constraints, he preferred to avoid a good-looking woman like the salesclerk who wore no ring. After losing his wife, he wanted to spare himself and Tessa that kind of pain ever again. Another romantic relationship was out of the question for him.

Unfortunately if the fire spread, that shop’s inventory, including the gingerbread man, might go up in smoke before the night was over. The clock said 9:55 p.m. Hopefully the woman had long since gone home from work. He broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about her getting overcome by fumes or worse. Rick knew firsthand what that was like; as a child he’d almost died in a fire. That experience had changed the direction of his life.

“Let’s go!” he called to his crew as he grabbed his turnout gear and headed for the engine. Arney drove them out of the truck bay to the downtown area. Rick got on the phone to the battalion chief discussing methods to proceed when he saw smoke pouring out of the third-story window of the art gallery. Engine 2 was first in, but the alarm had sounded for more help.

“Mel? You work with Arney. Jose? You’re with me.” Out of the corner of his eye Rick saw another ladder truck pull up to the fire ground. Already a couple of men from the engine truck had gone into the building with the hoses.

“Ready, Jose?”

He gave the sign and together they placed the ladder in an alley that gave access to the building and set it against the wall. After putting on their masks, they ascended. Their job was to hunt for any injured or unconscious people trapped in there.

The smoke continued to pour out the third-story window. Everything was black by the time he climbed inside the frame where the glass had blown out. Ladder 2 down the alley was having trouble opening up the side of the building to ventilate. The smoke was really heavy now. Rick’s intuition was that the hoses had extinguished most of the fire and what was left was smoke from the burned electrical insulation.

He and Jose crawled in on their bellies, but after a few minutes of going from room to room, they were satisfied no one was inside except the fire crews. The smoke started to be drawn off, which meant the ventilation was finally working.

Dozens of charred canvases lay in heaps in one of the rooms on the top floor. Something about the arrangement of them didn’t look right—strange even. He had a gut feeling the fire had been started there on purpose. After more probing he knew they had to have been placed in a pile like that.

When he got back to the station he would tell Benton Ames, the head of the arson squad and Rick’s best friend. After more inspection, he made his way down the watery, debris-filled stairway.

Once outside, he pulled off his mask. Thank goodness the fire hadn’t spread. It had mostly been contained on the third floor. The Hansel and Gretel shop was still standing. With a sense of relief that both it and the florist shop had been spared, he helped Jose bring down the extension. Soon they’d done their cleanup, and they rode back to the station. His ten-hour shift was at an end and he could go home.

The battalion chief got him on the phone. “When you report to the station tomorrow, take the truck to Lemon Street on your way to training exercises. I want you and your crew to talk to the businesses on either side and across from the art gallery. Get a report if they sustained any smoke damage of significance.”

Another rush of adrenaline charged his body. That meant he might be seeing her again. Just the thought of it raised his blood pressure. Somehow her appeal had slipped past his defenses. He couldn’t figure it out.

“Yes, sir.”

Fifteen minutes later he pulled into the driveway of his house and let himself in the front door. Sharon Milne, his live-in housekeeper, would have put Tessa to bed at eight-thirty. His daughter had made him promise he’d help her write a letter to Santa in the morning.

Rick went to the kitchen and drank from the tap until he’d quenched his thirst, then he headed for his bedroom. After a shower and shave, he put on a robe and walked down the hall to Tessa’s room.

He tiptoed inside and sat on the side of the bed to look at her. In sleep her profile reminded him a lot of his deceased wife, Tina. She’d been gone a year. They’d lost her to leukemia a month before Christmas after a year’s fight against the disease. This was the hardest time for both of them.

Tessa had been very upset with him when he’d dropped her off at kindergarten today. She’d wanted to know why they couldn’t go back and get the gingerbread man.

There’d been several reasons. Once again Rick had given her another talk about being grateful for the things she had and not to expect to be appeased at every turn. After Tina’s death he’d done his share of giving their daughter things to comfort her in their grief, but it hadn’t taken long before he’d realized it was the wrong thing to do.

She expected everyone to satisfy her slightest wish. His wife and her family had done too much of that in the past. Before Tina’s passing, Tessa had already felt entitled. He smoothed the blond hair off her forehead. Rick didn’t want his daughter growing up with a princess complex.

But there was more bothering him. How could he explain to a five-year-old how he’d felt when he saw the clerk looking at him through the shop window with those brilliant blue eyes? She was the kind of woman the guys at the station would call a real stunner—blonde and curvaceous with classic features. Most likely she was married with children. Her response to Tessa had seemed very natural. It meant his thoughts should stop right there. The absence of a wedding ring didn’t always prove anything.

Rick had felt dead inside for so long, he was shocked to discover he could have an emotional response to the looks of a beautiful woman again. The psychiatrist provided by the department had talked to him at length about dealing with his grief. He’d told Rick that one day he’d start to feel alive again, but there was no set time when it would happen.

Rick certainly hadn’t expected the first signs of it to happen this morning. Part of the anger he’d felt masked guilt, because it seemed as if he was being disloyal to Tina even to notice another woman so soon after her death. The psychiatrist had warned him about that, too. He’d said it was perfectly natural to feel guilt, and he might feel it for a long time. If it went on too long, however, then he wanted to see him back in his office.

After the clerk had waited on him, his anger had grown worse because she’d been so incredibly nice and tuned in to Tessa’s feelings. He didn’t want her doing either of them any favors. For one thing, Tessa was his daughter.

The woman obviously thought he didn’t have enough money to pay for the gingerbread man, so she’d lowered the price. He had to admit it had injured his pride. But after having a whole day to think about it, he recognized what he’d really been feeling.

The last thing he wanted was to feel beholden to her or any woman. Sharon, the housekeeper, was different in her caretaker role.

Face it, Jenner. You resent being attracted to her.

That was the truth of it. He supposed the fact that she was the first person since Tina’s death to take his mind off his wife for a few minutes made him feel vulnerable. But for her to play Santa hadn’t sat well with him. So many emotions had bombarded him, he hadn’t been able to get out of the shop fast enough.

No one could take Tina’s place as Tessa’s mother. He couldn’t trust another woman with that job. Rick didn’t want another woman in his life. He didn’t want to have those kinds of feelings ever again. It had hurt so much to lose Tina. He couldn’t live through pain like that a second time. Once was enough for him and Tessa. He’d do whatever he could to protect both of them from more suffering.

Frustrated as hell because he would have to go by her business tomorrow, he leaned over to kiss his daughter’s forehead before leaving to go to his own room. Maybe he’d get one of the crew to do it. Either way, it would be a short visit and that would be the end of it.

Before he went to bed he made a detour to the living room and set up the elf band beneath the Christmas tree they’d bought and decorated last night. When Tessa got up in the morning, she’d run in here to find out what the noise was and be delighted.

Now, if he could just get the woman out of his head so he could go to sleep... But that was a joke, because she’d been flitting through his mind—all the amazing parts of her, starting with her smile and the way her blue eyes shimmered.

* * *

At ten the next morning Arney pulled the fire truck in front of the scarred top half of the art gallery. An inspection team from the arson squad was walking around.

When Rick saw Benton, he climbed down from the truck in his gear and walked over to his sandy-haired friend. He and his wife, Deanna, an attractive brunette, had two children, one of whom was Tessa’s friend Julie at kindergarten. They’d all become close during Tina’s illness.

Benton patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks to your tip, we know this is the work of the same arsonist who started that department-store blaze three weeks ago. Underneath that pile of canvases, he’d filled a plastic milk carton with gasoline and made a wick with a piece of shirt. It was a slow burner, but did enough damage to ignite the whole thing.”

“He probably used the fire escape here to knock out that third-story window we climbed into. I thought it had been blown out by the fire.”

“Let’s hope he’s caught soon. In the meantime I’ve spoken to the police chief. They’re going to keep this downtown area under heavy surveillance 24/7 until after the holidays.”

“That’s good.” If Benton hadn’t mentioned it, Rick would have.

“How’s it going?”

Rick didn’t have to pretend around him. “Don’t ask.”

“That’s what I thought. Deanna and I are having a little party on Saturday night. We want you to come. Susie Anderson from Engine 3 will be coming along with some of the others. She specifically asked if you’d be there.” He put his hand up. “I know what you’re going to say about that, but at least promise me you’ll think about it.”

“Susie’s a good firefighter and nice in her own way, but she’s been a part of the landscape for too long a time. She’s just one of the guys to me, Benton. Everyone’s been trying to line me up, but I just can’t do it. I don’t feel the spark. Without that...”

“Then bring a friend, so Susie won’t get any ideas. If it’s your housekeeper’s night off, then bring Tessa. She and Julie can play.”

Rick was aware the guys were waiting for him. He turned to his crew, having made a certain decision. “Mel? You and Arney cover the florist and the Hansel and Gretel shop. Jose? Go talk to the cleaners across the street. I’ll take the print shop.”

Once the men took off, he eyed Benton and gave him a clap on the shoulder. “Thanks for the invite. I promise I’ll think about it.”

His friend winked. “Good.”

Before Rick walked across the street, his gaze wandered to the display window of the shop. Yesterday he’d looked into a pair of blue eyes in an angel face with a golden halo of hair. It had felt as if a thunderbolt had passed through him.

But neither the gingerbread man nor the little rocking chair was there now. That meant she’d pulled the items after he’d left the store. Hopefully they’d be in the back. Maybe another employee was on duty today. He’d asked Mel and Arney to find out. If so, Rick would go in and buy them.

With clipboard in hand, he walked across the street and interviewed the manager of the print shop. The smell of smoke still hung around, but he learned they hadn’t been affected by the fire. He returned to the truck where the guys were waiting.

None of the people interviewed could give any information regarding a possible arsonist. All had been gone from their stores when the fire broke out. The florist was still using one of the department fans.

Rick collected their reports and read Arney’s, absorbing the information on the Hansel and Gretel shop like a sponge.

Owner of the shop was Mrs. Valerie Bernard, fifty-three, who lived in College Hill, the most affluent neighborhood in Providence. Judging by the expensive items displayed, he wasn’t surprised. She was also the person Arney had talked to, because it was her signature on the bottom of the form.

The report stated there’d been no damage, but the smell of smoke still lingered. She didn’t think a fan was necessary. He called out to Arney. “Did you speak to any employees besides Mrs. Bernard?”

“No. She was the only one there.”

That made his mind up for him. “Give me a minute. The smoke smell is stronger on this side of the street. I want to check her place again. She might need a fan anyway.”

“Okay.”

He headed for the shop. When he entered, the Christmas chimes sounded. It was déjà vu. An attractive older woman with short blond hair stylishly cut who looked vaguely familiar to him was waiting on a customer, but she smiled at Rick.

He walked around, deciding the smell of smoke wasn’t that bad. As soon as the customer left with a package, he approached her. “Sorry to bother you again. I’m Captain Jenner of Ladder 1. I wanted to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind about wanting a fan.”

She gave him a pleasant smile. “No. It’s not necessary, but I have to tell you I’m mighty thankful you got that fire out in time to save the rest of us. Some of my inventory is irreplaceable. Even with the insurance, there are several dozen pyramids and signed nutcrackers that are original pieces, and priceless. They’re made in Germany.”

“I’m aware of that. I came in here yesterday with my daughter. She saw the gingerbread man in the window. While I’m here, I’d like to buy it for her.”

The woman frowned. “A gingerbread man?”

“Yes.” He described it. “It was sitting in a little rocking chair. I’d like to buy the chair, too. Maybe the items got sold. Then again, it’s possible one of your employees put those items away for some reason.”

“The only other person who works here is my daughter, Andrea.” Blood pounded in his ears. That’s why the owner looked familiar. He’d wondered. The more he looked at her, the more he saw the resemblance in the shape of her face and body. “She must have unpacked those items while I was gone. Give me time to check in back.”

She returned in a few minutes looking at a loss. “My daughter went out of town yesterday.” With her husband or a fiancé, maybe? Why in blazes did he care? “She’ll be able to explain. I’m expecting her back this afternoon. When she comes in, I’ll ask her what happened. If you call the shop after two, you’ll be able to talk to her.”

Rick knew exactly what had happened. She was planning to give them to Tessa for Christmas because she believed he couldn’t afford it. No doubt she’d hidden them away somewhere. “I’m afraid I’ll be on duty until seven. When I next have time off, I’ll call around. Thank you for your help. I’m glad your shop was saved, Mrs. Bernard. It’s a delightful place.”

“Thank you. It’s been in our family seventy-five years.” She walked him to the door. “If it weren’t for brave men like you, I wouldn’t have had a shop to open this morning. I’m very grateful and know the neighbors around here are, too. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Now Rick knew why Andrea was so nice. Damn. “The pleasure’s mine, Mrs. Bernard. Have a good day.”

* * *

Andrea drove down the alley and parked the car next to her mom’s at the rear of the shop. She was glad to be home, even if it was closer to an hour later than she’d planned. There’d been a ten-car pileup on the freeway because of black ice. No one had been injured, thank heaven, but as a result the cars were lined up several miles waiting to get around the accident scene.

She’d also stopped at her favorite bookstore and picked up a copy of a gingerbread-man book with terrific illustrations. She’d loved it as a child. Another gift from Santa.

Pressing the remote that opened the back door, she entered and could immediately smell smoke. Her heart rate picked up speed. After putting down her overnight bag, she hurried through the office to the front of the shop. Her mom saw her and smiled. She was waiting on two teens buying some hand-painted wooden ornaments.

Until they left she couldn’t talk to her mom, so she went back to the office and sent an email to Casey. She’d promised to let her and Carol know she’d gotten home safely. There were several emails waiting for her to open, all of them from Gunter’s family.

Andrea decided to read them later except for one from Marie, whom she missed horribly. They were close to the same age and had a lot in common besides the fact that they’d both adored Gunter.

Her email was inviting Andrea to meet her and her husband, Rolfe, in the south of Spain after Christmas and vacation until the New Year. Would she please come? They would pay for her flight and would be staying with Rolfe’s friend at his villa.

While Andrea stood there contemplating the generous offer and idea, she could still smell smoke, and she lifted her head. Where had it come from? She was dying to know, but a steady stream of customers kept both her and her mother busy for a couple of hours. Finally they had a break. As soon as the front door closed, Andrea gave her mother a fierce hug.

“What was that all about, darling?”

“Because I love you. Because Casey and I had a long talk, and it made me appreciate you all over again for being the best mother in the world.”

“I could say the same thing about my daughter. I’m glad you got back safely.”

“Me, too. Now tell me what’s happened. Why is there that smoke smell?”

“The art gallery caught fire last night around ten when everyone had gone home.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I wish I were. There’s a possibility of arson. I was talking to Wally earlier. He said the firefighters saved as many paintings as they could, but some of the ones in storage on the third floor didn’t make it. We’re very blessed they got here in time to save the rest of the surrounding stores, including ours.”

Andrea shuddered. “When I think of the years you’ve put into this shop, and then to imagine a fire threatening everything... I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

“Don’t be silly. There wasn’t anything anyone could do. Life is a risk.”

Yes. But she’d never thought about it until she and Gunter had been broadsided by a man who was drunk. In a flash her husband had been snuffed out. “Casey and I came to that same conclusion last night.”

“Did you have a wonderful time?”

She bit her lip. “It was good to see her and Carol again, and we were able to make plans for the party on Christmas Eve, but the inn is up for sale, and Casey is very low right now. She hasn’t really gotten over her broken engagement. So to answer your question honestly, I’ve come home a bit depressed, but it will pass.”

“That settles it. After we close up tonight, you’re coming home with me, and no buts.”

“I’d like that,” Andrea said without reservation.

“Oh—before more customers walk in, I need to ask you about a gingerbread man and a chair, neither of which I’ve seen. Apparently you put them in the front window display, but when the man who’d seen them before came in today to buy them, they were gone and I couldn’t help him.”

Andrea’s heart gave a kick. “Do you remember his name?”