The Firefighter's Thanksgiving Wish Read online

  “Of course I like Roman. Everyone likes Roman. He’s very easy to like.” There. That ought to satisfy her.

  “He likes you, too. I can see it. A mother knows these things.”

  If you say so. Frankie punched the accelerator and zoomed up the hill to the Flutterby Inn. Once she parked in front of the three-story Victorian structure, she paused and said to Roman’s surprisingly intimidating mother, “Mrs....Ezzie. Your son and I work together. We’ve become friends. That’s all there is.” Even if the man did kiss like a dream and leave her wanting more.

  “Ha! You lie.” Ezzie snorted and pushed open the door. “Oh, this is lovely. Would you look at that. It’s like a postcard, isn’t it?”

  Frankie climbed out of the vehicle and joined Ezzie at the base of the stairs. The Flutterby was indeed lovely. The historic inn had been through its paces over the decades, but in the last few years, under new ownership, it had been revitalized and had become a beacon both on the cliffs of the West Coast and as a major tourist destination.

  With its bright yellow siding and glistening white trim, the inn was always stunning, but at the holidays? With the endless poinsettias planted around the expansive front yard, the icicle lights strung along the wraparound porch and every window outlined with tiny lighted stars, there was little more beautiful in town once the sun set. Tiny fairy lights twinkled in the flower beds and in the bushes surrounding the inn, all the way, Frankie knew, around the expanse of the building and vacation cabins at the back of the property.

  “I can’t believe there are any vacancies,” Ezzie said as Frankie lugged not one, but two suitcases out of the SUV. “How lucky was that?”

  It wasn’t luck at all, but Frankie calling in a favor with Abby Corwin, the inn’s manager.

  “I could have stayed at the station, you know,” Ezzie told her as they climbed the wooden stairs. “It wouldn’t have been a bother. You have plenty of room there.”

  All it had taken was one pained expression from Roman upon hearing that suggestion from his mom for Frankie to pick up the phone. She might be nursing a good mad at him, but she wasn’t heartless. Nor was she still in denial about her future with the Butterfly Harbor Fire Department. Gil might not be the most honest person, but she absolutely believed him when he’d stated he had every intention of closing the station house. Even if he changed his mind, she wouldn’t be getting the chief’s position. Ever. But that didn’t matter, not in comparison to losing the station. She’d fight with everything she had, everything she was.

  And ignore the nausea and concern that continued to plague her.

  “Oh, my. My, my.” Ezzie stopped just inside the door and clasped her hands to her cheeks. Her black hair glistened, as did her face against the flickering flames in the fireplace. “Where’s my phone? I have to take pictures to send to my sisters right away. This is just lovely. So, so lovely.”

  Frankie left Ezzie fawning over the seashell-and seahorse-themed Christmas tree in the corner of the lobby and lugged the bags toward the desk. “Hey, Willa,” she greeted the part-time reception manager. “Is Lori or Abby around?”

  Jasper’s older sister tugged at the edges of her gray cardigan and tucked her long brown hair behind her ear. “I’ll just let them know you’re here.”

  “Great, thanks.” Frankie rapped her knuckles on the counter and watched Ezzie use her phone to take picture after picture of every inch of the lobby.

  “I’ve seen this before, I know it.” Ezzie looked to Frankie. “Where would I have seen this hotel before? You!” She pointed and stalked past Frankie to where Abby emerged from the dining room. “You were married here. I saw it in magazines.”

  “I—Hello.” Abby shot a knowing glance at Frankie and, without saying a word, smiled in a way that told Frankie she now understood Frankie’s desperation in finding Ezzie a room. “You must be Mrs. Salazar. And yes, I was married here last year.” She brushed a hand over her stomach before introducing Lori, who had appeared next to Abby. “This is Lori Knight, Mrs. Salazar.”

  “Oh, it’s Ezzie, please. Everyone calls me Ezzie. And congratulations!” Ezzie grabbed Abby and hauled her in for a hug. “You must be so excited.”

  “Well, I’ve had a year to get used to him,” Abby laughed and patted the older woman on the back.

  “I meant about the baby!” Ezzie said. “When are you due? Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl? It’s your first, isn’t it?”

  “Baby?” Lori gasped.

  Frankie let go of the suitcases and they clunked to the floor. “Baby?”

  “Oh!” Ezzie slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, you hadn’t said anything. I’m so sorry, I always seem to know these things and, oh, my Tony would be mortified. He always said I couldn’t keep a secret.”

  “It’s okay.” Abby reached out and took her hands. “We were planning on announcing at Christmas.”

  “And I spoiled the news. Oh, I’m horrible! Just horrible.”

  “You’re delightful,” Abby gave her a fast hug. “And you are more than welcome in Butterfly Harbor.”

  “Hang on, I need a hug!” Lori reached out and grabbed Abby. “A baby!”

  “Well, I can’t let you get too many ahead of me.”

  “You’re pregnant, too?” Frankie gasped. What was in the water these days? The population was exploding.

  “No.” Lori’s lips curved. “We’ve been trying, but no. We’re adopting. Matt and I just got the call a few weeks ago. His name is Leo and he’s six years old. He’s been in foster care for the last year and a half.” Lori pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. “Here.”

  “Oh!” Ezzie grabbed the phone like a proud grandmother. “He’s stunning. Look at that blond hair! And those cheeks! Oh, congratulations to you, too.” That earned another round of hugs.

  “I’m so happy for you, Lori.” Frankie handed the phone back after getting her fill of the little boy. “When will you get him?”

  “Planned for next week, but we’ll see.” Lori smoothed a nervous hand down the front of her striped maxidress. “Kyle’s helping decorate his room. They’ve been talking online, on video chat and email. He seems genuinely excited about being a big brother.”

  Considering not so long ago Kyle had no family, Frankie wasn’t surprised. The young man had turned more corners than Frankie thought possible, and a lot of his progress was due to the fact that he’d been adopted, not only by Deputy Matt Knight, but also by Lori, who had taken to motherhood as if she’d been born for it. He even worked part-time as a handyman around town. And he was good. Really good.

  “Let’s see about getting you into your room, Ezzie,” Abby said.

  Frankie did her due diligence and carried Ezzie’s bags to the second-floor room that Abby kept in reserve for emergency guests. It wasn’t a large room, no bigger than one of the station house rooms, but it was beautifully decorated in muted ocean tones and had a view of the water beyond the cliffs.

  “If you want to come back to the station tomorrow morning, I’ll be getting off shift at eight. I can come drive you over then.”

  “Oh, heavens, Frankie, I don’t expect you to shuttle me around town. I’ll find my own way there. After breakfast, of course. I was looking at the menu for the restaurant here. I plan to make the most of my time while I’m visiting. Speaking of which.” Ezzie sat on the edge of the double bed and looked at her. “What can I help with?”

  “Help with?” Why did Frankie feel as if she’d just croaked that question?

  “One thing about me, I don’t sit still. I always need to be doing something. What’s this nonsense I’m hearing about the station house closing?”

  If only it were nonsense. “We’re still trying to figure it all out ourselves,” Frankie admitted. “I’m hoping it’s an idea that won’t get past the town council. In any case, it’s nothing for you to worry about. You should enjoy your stay.” Especia
lly since it was clear her staying had the added benefit of driving Roman to distraction. The image of big, strong firefighter Roman all but wilting into a little boy in his mother’s presence brought some levity to the situation.

  “You have my cell number if you need anything. I have to be getting back. No telling what trouble your son’s getting into.”

  “No more than usual, I’m sure. Frankie.” Ezzie stood and slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Thank you for telling me about what happened. I know I’m a pest to have around, but I couldn’t stand the idea of Roman being hurt and not being within earshot to help. Especially during the holidays. Please humor me the next few days.”

  “I don’t have to humor you. You’re his mother. Sure you were concerned.”

  “You’re a good girl, Frankie. I can see why my son likes you.”

  Frankie rolled her eyes. “Don’t start that again. Roman and I are friends, Ezzie. And he’s my boss, not to mention he won’t be here very long. Please don’t expect it will ever be more.” Because she wouldn’t let it become more. She couldn’t. She might have entertained the warm thought before, but she certainly couldn’t now. Not when it was clear he’d be leaving.

  And sooner rather than later.

  * * *

  IT HAD BEEN a week. A long, torturous, stomach-clenching week since his mother had arrived. Beyond feeling restless over his imprisonment at the station house, beyond feeling angry for letting Gil get one over on him where the station’s budget was concerned, the darned cast on Roman’s leg was itching as if he had an ant hill living beneath the plaster. If, and that was a big if, he managed to keep his weight off his leg for two weeks, the doctor had told him he’d switch him out to a walking cast, meaning he could ditch the crutches. But until then...

  Pots and pans clanged in the kitchen, followed by the muted, although not totally unfamiliar, mutterings of Jasper trying to get a handle on preparing meals. Their probie had decided, without much input from either Roman or Frankie, that he’d take up residence in one of the rooms upstairs while Roman was out of commission. He wasn’t expecting to go out on calls, but he could take care of the busy and scut work, freeing Frankie to focus on the emergencies. Personally, Roman had the feeling Jasper was sticking around in case Roman fell flat on his face—a good possibility, given his lackluster talent with his new metal companions. He’d only tripped a few times. So far.

  He clicked his way out of the entertainment room and planted himself behind the desk, waiting for Frankie to get back. They needed to talk. About a lot of things, but she had shown no interest in conversing with him. In fact, she seemed to be going out of her way to avoid him. Not an easy task considering the close quarters. When another pan hit the ground, he’d had enough.

  “Jasper, it’s after nine,” Roman called as his head pounded. “How about you turn in and leave whatever’s left for tomorrow.” When his head had a bit more time to heal. The constant noise wasn’t doing anything to help.

  “You sure?” Jasper poked his head around the corner. “I’m almost done with the—”

  “I’m sure.” Roman was resisting the urge to dig into his pocket for the painkillers the doctor had prescribed. “Go ahead. If there’s a call, you’ll hear about it.”

  “You think Frankie will take me with her this time?” His dark eyes went wide with excitement.

  “I’ll talk to her about it when she gets back. Go on.”

  “Great. I have a chapter on accelerants I’ve been waiting to read. ’Night, Chief.”

  “’Night, Jasper.” The smile that curved his lips surprised him. Aside from the broken leg and the eccentric citizens, Butterfly Harbor was growing on him, far more than he’d ever expected. He groaned at the sight of the endless boxes piled every which way and added that to the top of his list to deal with tomorrow. He retrieved his laptop and flash drive and settled back in at the desk.

  The updates he’d planned to add to his résumé halted suddenly. So far Ozzy was the only one who had come straight out and asked him about his short-term contract and plans to move on. Either Frankie and everyone else were ignoring that bit of information or they didn’t want to talk about it. He could understand that. He didn’t want to talk about it, mainly because...well. Because he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do.

  Huffing out a breath, he clicked his laptop shut and tidied up the desk. When he found himself sorting paperclips from rubber bands, he realized he’d hit his frustration quota. He grabbed the stack of scratch paper off the corner of the desk, pulled open the bottom left drawer and froze. Plan of Action. The green folder staring back at him had Frankie’s distinctive cursive on the front.

  He pulled the folder free, flipped it open and scanned the collection of pages. The well-thought-out list of improvements and streamlining for both the station house and the department in general was as well organized as he’d have expected. She didn’t miss a detail—even had a list of pros and cons for each item she thought should be implemented. She’d worked out the benefits and costs of various scheduling templates, too, including the one he’d switched them to. The one she’d scratched out as impractical and said needs more thought.

  On the last page, he found a handwritten note, an afterthought, perhaps, that simply said, “find Dad’s plans.” Her father’s plans for what? Roman wondered as he heard the distinctive rumble of the bay door opening and Dwayne sliding into place beside the engine.

  He tucked the file back in the drawer discreetly. He looked up when he heard the rattle of her keys.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “It is now.” Frankie managed a quick smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Good thing Charlie called us. Mrs. Hastings accidentally took too much of her diabetes medication, and her numbers crashed. We got it under control.”

  “Glad she’s okay.” Roman had to admit, having breakfast with Mrs. Hastings on Thursday mornings had become a routine he enjoyed.

  “Your mom head back to the hotel?”

  “Just after you left,” Roman said, hating the forced polite conversation they’d been falling into recently. The night had gone quiet. They were in for the evening—he hoped.

  “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She redid her ponytail. “Is your mom some kind of psychic?”

  Roman looked at her.

  “Seriously,” Frankie said. “She knew...something about Abby she hadn’t told anyone about. It was kind of spooky.”

  “She has a weird kind of radar for pregnant women. She knew my cousin Elena was pregnant even before she did. Mom made her go out and buy a pregnancy test on Thanksgiving. Made for an interesting holiday, that’s for sure. Why? Is Abby pregnant?”

  “Just about three months, it seems.” Frankie grabbed her sweatshirt off a peg. “They were planning on announcing at Christmas.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” Roman rubbed his fingers across his aching forehead. “I’ll have a talk with her.”

  “It’s fine, Roman. Abby was kind of relieved to be able to tell someone. Your mom’s promised to keep it to herself until Abby and Jason announce.”

  “So Abby and Jason are going to have a baby. That’s pretty great.”

  “Yeah.” Frankie headed down the hall to the entertainment room.

  Roman considered himself a smart man, but even smart men had to push the boundaries of conversation at some point. Especially if they wanted pertinent information. He retrieved his crutches and pushed himself to his feet, clomping his way down the hall. “I asked Jasper to finish the dishes up tomorrow,” Roman told her when he found her curled up in the corner of the worn leather sofa, a gaming controller in her hands.

  “That’s fine.” The TV screen remained blank even as she stared at it. She’d put up a smaller Christmas tree in here, complete with twinkling lights and a crooked handmade tinfoil star.

  “You ever think about having kids?”
>
  That got her attention. Her head snapped up, eyes flashing. “Do I ever what?”

  “You heard me. You seem to like them. You’re great with Phoebe, and you seem happy for Abby.”

  “I am happy for Abby. Yeah, I think about it from time to time. Haven’t really had to, you know—” she shrugged “—give it serious attention. You?”

  “Me what?” He lowered himself beside her and stretched out his leg with a wince. Maybe it was time for one of those painkillers after all.

  “I’ve met your mother, Roman,” Frankie said. “Don’t tell me she hasn’t given you the ‘when am I going to be a grandmother’ lecture.”

  “Why do you think I moved across the country?”

  Frankie smirked.

  “Ha, I know. Bad joke. Maybe it’s half-true. I almost got engaged once.”

  Frankie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Don’t sound so shocked. Some women think I’m a catch.”

  She discarded the controller and faced him, resting her cheek in her palm. The way she looked at him, with an overbright smile and fluttering lashes, had him laughing. “Did the almost fiancée throw you back?”

  Ah, there was the Frankie he’d come to... Roman swallowed, diving hard and fast away from any completion of that thought. “In a way. When the discussion turned to kids.”

  “She didn’t want them?”

  “Oh, she wanted them. I did, too. A whole houseful.”

  “For the record, that would scare off a lot of women.”

  “What can I say?” Roman grinned. “I’m an only child.”

  “And the unknown is always more appealing than the known. So AF—”

  “AF?”

  “Almost Fiancée. She bolted at the idea?”

  “She made it clear she wasn’t about to have a family with a man who might not come home at the end of his shift.”

  Frankie glanced away. “I imagine that crosses a lot of people’s minds when it comes to our jobs.”

  “Does it cross yours?”