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  Sean helped him clean the truck. Eventually, Anderson and Hank returned to the station and they joined the other men with the cleanup.

  Conversation turned from work to their favorite nighttime topic: dinner.

  John Michael was just wondering if there was going to be any lasagna left when Anderson walked to his side. “Hey, John Michael, did you happen to notice the pair of men standing off to the side when we left?”

  “Nee. I mean, no. What about ’em?” he asked as he pulled out a rag and began wiping down the side panel, rubbing hard until the chrome shone.

  “They seemed a little too interested.”

  John paused. “Did they? Do you think they started it?” He knew firebugs loved to watch the fruits of their labor.

  “Maybe.”

  “Did you tell anyone?”

  “Nah.”

  When John Michael first started, he would have been shocked or asked why. But now he knew how uncomfortable it was to be the one person making a mountain out of nothing. “Lots of men and women simply like to watch.”

  Anderson nodded. “That’s true. Lots of guys simply like to stand around and watch,” he repeated, seeming to find comfort in that.

  John Michael stared at him in confusion but said nothing. Anderson was an experienced firefighter and would know if he needed to report his suspicions or not. When it was obvious Anderson wasn’t going to say anymore on the subject, John attempted to lighten the mood. “Guess what? My mother’s bringing by breakfast in the morning.”

  “No way. Really?”

  “Jah. Two trays of cinnamon rolls.” His mother was a fantastic cook and loved how much the other firemen appreciated her efforts. About once a month, she’d bring by either supper or breakfast. After John Michael realized that she wasn’t bringing food to check up on him, he’d been pleased as punch about her visits.

  Anderson grinned. “I love your mamm.”

  John Michael chuckled at the other man using the Amish word for mom. “I’ll pass that on to her. She’ll be right pleased.”

  “No need for that. I’ll tell her myself in the morning,” he said with a wink. “What time is she planning to stop by?”

  “She said she’d be here by five.”

  “Perfect. If we aren’t called out, we’ll have plenty of time to eat before the new crew arrives.”

  As John Michael continued to wipe down the ladder truck, he prayed that was going to be the case.

  But since it was December? That was doubtful. December, with the space heaters, lit candles, dry Christmas trees, and bad weather, meant that it was almost a certainty that they’d be called out again before his mother’s rolls arrived.

  Maybe even several times.

  Chapter 15

  Grace had told herself that she was only making beef enchiladas because it was cold outside and a warm meal sounded wonderful. In addition, making a big meal for one person meant there would be lots of leftovers in the refrigerator. That would make her life easier, for sure and for certain.

  All those things had been true, but as she looked around a kitchen that was slowly beginning to feel as comfortable as her own, Grace knew she hadn’t been telling herself the truth.

  No, the truth was that she was looking forward to John Michael’s promise about stopping by that afternoon and she wanted to greet him with something warm and welcoming in the kitchen.

  As she chopped up the last of the onion and placed it in the pan to cook with the oil, garlic, and hamburger, she couldn’t help but imagine the look of surprise and pleasure on his face when he realized that she’d made a meal for them to share. That would make her so happy. Hadn’t her mother often reminded her that the very act of cooking for another person was an act of love?

  And while she might not be in love with John Michael Miller, she was fond of him.

  She could practically hear her youngest sister, Sylvia, call out “liar, liar pants on fire.”

  “All right, Sylvia,” she said to the empty room. “I’m something more than just fond of John Michael. I’m mighty fond of him. And don’t you go complaining about that, because there is a difference.”

  Snooze, who’d been sleeping on a rug nearby, looked around the room and barked.

  “Sorry, pup. It’s just me being silly.”

  Ack! Now she was calling herself John Michael’s pet name. Honestly, what was wrong with her?

  Why, John Michael was most likely stopping by because of a sense of obligation. Would her supper give him the wrong impression?

  Nee. Of course not. It was just supper.

  But . . . what if his mother had also spoken about cooking as an act of love? Imagining the scene, she groaned. What if John Michael saw these enchiladas as an unwelcome sign of devotion? What if he thought she wanted to be something more than friends? He’d be mighty uncomfortable then.

  And it would be a mighty good assumption, too, she told herself. Because she was kind of afraid that he would be right.

  Her heart sank. This was why she needed her siblings around. Sylvia and Leona would say she was trying too hard. Her brothers would say she was making up a bunch of stuff and nonsense about a dish of food.

  And Beth?

  Well, Beth would be just plain mad.

  Grace groaned again. What was she doing, being so forward? And what would he say if she was ever brave enough to share that she wasn’t just “mighty fond” of him but that it had wandered into “like very much” territory?

  Panic set in. Worse . . . how would she ever explain her change of heart to her mother? Ack . . . to Beth? Beth would likely never forgive her. And if Beth and Mamm united in their feelings, then her other sisters’ opinions would follow. And the boys and Daed would distance themselves until the household grew calm again.

  She’d have a terrible problem on her hands!

  The doorbell chimed, interrupting her stewing. Thank the Lord!

  Hurrying to the door, Snooze barking at her heels, she peeked outside and was pleased to see that the object of her thoughts was on her doorstep. Well, Snooze’s doorstep.

  “Hiya,” Grace said as John Michael entered. “Look at you, you’re still in your fireman’s uniform and jacket.”

  He looked down at his clothing like he’d forgotten what he had on. “So I am.”

  She smiled at him. He looked as handsome and strong as ever. And he was looking at her like he was as delighted to be near her as she was to see him. Maybe he wouldn’t mind that she cooked for him after all.

  “How are you?” And, yes, her voice sounded a little raspy. Maybe a lot raspy.

  “I’m better now,” John Michael said as he shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a hook by the door.

  As she continued to smile at him, he knelt on one knee to untie his boots and scratch Snooze behind his ears. “What smells . . . wait, is something burning?”

  “Ack!” She turned and ran toward the kitchen, then stopped in her tracks when she realized that the pan was on fire. “Oh, no!” she cried. Just as she was about to run to the sink to fill up a pitcher with water, he stopped her.

  “Never put water on a grease fire,” he said as he grabbed a pan’s lid and covered the flames. “Get some flour. Now.”

  She did as he asked, then watched in amazement as he grabbed a towel, pulled the pan off the burner, and then dumped a cupful of flour on the last of the flames.

  With a couple of sputters and starts, the fire died, leaving in its place a burnt flour-laden meat dish. It was a mess.

  A terrible, smelly, awful-looking mess.

  Food was love, indeed!

  Still calmly facing the range, John Michael turned the burner off and then wiped his hands on the dishtowel that she’d left next to the burner. A dishtowel that could’ve very well caught on fire if John Michael hadn’t acted so quickly.

  Grace realized then that she was panting. “I . . . I canna believe I was so careless!”

  “Hush, now,” he soothed, stepping closer to her. “It’s all over.” />
  She couldn’t stop staring at the burnt contents of the pot. “John, I could’ve set the house on fire.”

  “But you didn’t, Silly.”

  She was so upset, she didn’t even care that he was calling her Silly. “Only because you were here.”

  “Then it’s a blessing that I stopped by,” he said lightly. “Ain’t so?”

  Grace heard everything he was saying. She was grateful for how calm and sweet he was being. But perversely, she kind of wanted him to act flustered, too. “John, I left that dishcloth right by the burner. It could have gone up in flames.”

  “But it did not,” he repeated. “Now, stop worrying so much. That’s why it’s called an accident, jah?”

  She couldn’t believe he was actually making a small joke about what she’d done! “Yes, but I know better than to leave a pan on the cooktop unattended. I was acting so stupid.” Because she’d been mooning about him. Imagining the worst, she continued. “I almost burned the Lees’ haus down! Snooze could have died.”

  His expression softened. “Oh, Grace. Come here.” He held out his arms.

  Before she gave herself time to think twice about it, she walked into his arms. He was bigger than she. Taller. Wider, so much stronger. And at that moment, with her head against his shoulder and feeling his arms around her, Grace knew there was nowhere she would rather be.

  It had been such a stressful, terrible couple of days. Being here all alone. Losing and then finding Snooze. Reacquainting herself with John Michael—and all the mixed-up emotions that entailed.

  He rubbed her back with one hand. “Don’t cry,” he murmured softly. “There’s no reason to cry.”

  Releasing a ragged sigh, she murmured. “God brought you here at just the right time. I’m so thankful for that.”

  “Me, too.” He held her for another moment. She relaxed against him, loving how warm and solid he felt.

  After another few minutes, Grace pulled away from him. She ducked her head in embarrassment. She probably should never have relaxed against him for so long.

  “Grace? You okay?”

  “What? Oh, jah.” She pointed to the pan. “I was just thinking about that frying pan. I don’t think it can be saved, do you?”

  “We can pour out the food and look at it, but I think you are probably right.” He picked it up. “Let’s take it to the sink and see.”

  No way did she want him putting out her fire and washing up the mess, too. “Nee, I can do it.”

  “I’m a fireman. I can handle this,” he said with a wink.

  She still stayed by his side. Examining the pan after they threw the contents out. It was a stainless steel pan, but it had a thick black scar on its surface. It didn’t look anything like Cindy Lee’s other pots and pans. “If this was my own, I would maybe try to make it right. But I’m going to have to tell the Lees and pay for a new one.”

  He nodded. “I fear you are right.” After a moment, he said, “I don’t want to lecture you, but, Silly, please be careful when you’re all alone.”

  “I am. I . . . I just forgot.”

  The smile that was playing on the corners of his lips stilled. “Hey. Wait a minute. Are those tears in your eyes? Are you crying?”

  “Nee. Of course not.”

  He reached out and squeezed her hand. “We’ve known each other too long to start lying. Ain’t so?”

  That phrase, along with the truth of his words, made her swallow her pride. “All right. You called me Silly.”

  His eyes widened. “Why would that upset you?”

  “I’ve never liked it. It reminds me that you think I’m foolish.” She paused, then said the rest. “Immature.”

  “That isn’t true, though.”

  “Then why do you call me that name?” What she really wanted to say was, out of all the nicknames he could have imagined for her, why that one? Did he really only think of her as a harebrained, stupid girl?

  He chuckled. “I started thinking of you as ‘Silly’ when I was dating your sister. You always used to make me smile. I never meant it in a bad way. I promise.”

  She inwardly winced. “Only that I did stupid things.”

  “Nee. Because you were a bright light next to Beth.” Looking as uncomfortable as she was starting to feel, he continued. “Grace, one of the reasons I knew I couldn’t continue on with your sister is that she was always looking at the worst of things. She was critical. She found fault with everything.”

  “Oh.” His words were a surprise, and she wasn’t even sure what she thought about them.

  “I know you might not see that. I know I shouldn’t be so honest, but I don’t want you thinking that it has anything to do with you, that it wasn’t complimentary. I liked a lot of things about Beth, but I knew I wanted to be around someone who lifted me up every day. Not brought me down. Your antics and stories and smile did that.”

  She stared at him. Wondered how to respond. Wondered if she even should. “I overreacted, John.” Hoping to make a joke, she said, “You can call me whatever you like.”

  He looked at her and shook his head. Then began smiling broadly again. “That’s why you’re you, Grace King. You never fail to make me see the better side of things.”

  Against her will, she felt her heart jump at his words. But how could she not? There seemed to be something perfect in between them—and it had been there no matter how much they tried to imagine otherwise.

  “Would you like to stay for supper? I was actually making beef enchiladas. I had thought you might want something filling since you’ve been working hard. Those are ruined now, but I could make something else.”

  When he said nothing, just stared at her, she swallowed hard. “Or maybe not.”

  “I had planned to stay, but now I’m thinking that it might be better if I leave.”

  She felt her skin turn beet red. She’d done it. She’d scared him off. “I understand.”

  Maybe they did need some time to figure out what had just happened.

  He looked at her intently. “I really came over to check on you. How are you feeling? Have you seen anymore footprints? Do you feel safe?”

  Did she? Her heart sure didn’t. She felt as if it had been torn open and it lay before him, bruised and marred and vulnerable. But ironically, the rest of her did feel safe. Today, after visiting Dorma and now this kitchen fire, she hadn’t thought about the mysterious intruder at all.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary has happened, John Michael. You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “I’m going to go, then,” he murmured, edging closer toward the entryway. “We fought a fire last night and I think I’m still recovering.”

  Thinking about him being hurt made all of her injured feelings seem “silly” after all. “Wait! Are you all right? Did you get hurt?”

  “I did what I needed to do, what I’ve been trained to do. So yes, I’m perfectly fine.” Looking as if he was intent on keeping his emotions at bay, he pulled back on his coat and gloves. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you.”

  “There is no need. I can take care of myself.”

  “Actually, I’m beginning to think that there’s every need.”

  Those words rang in her head as she followed him to the door. As she told him good-bye.

  As she stood at the window and watched him leave.

  They continued to ring until two tiny paws tapped against her calf. Pleased that Snooze had finally made the first move, Grace bent down and carefully cradled him in her arms. “You are a gut hund, Snooze,” she murmured into his neck as she cuddled him closer. “A gut hund, indeed.”

  She carried him over to a big easy chair and sat down with him in her arms. Snooze curled on her lap and closed his eyes when she began to pet him.

  For the first time all day, she smiled without the slightest reservation. It looked like the day wasn’t a disaster after all. At long last, she and Snooze had become friends.

  She closed her eyes and gave thanks for rewards in small pack
ages.

  Chapter 16

  “I’d like you to pay a home visit with me today,” Captain Butler said from the doorway of John Michael’s bunk room.

  His muscles protested when he sat up, but he was pleased he didn’t delay too long. “All right. Do you need me to bring anything specific?”

  “Just yourself, and your knowledge of Pennsylvania Dutch,” he said with a small smile.

  “I’ll be right there, sir.”

  “Twenty minutes is soon enough, Rookie.”

  When he was alone again, John Michael got to his feet. They’d spent the morning practicing cutting people out of cars. Then they went out on a three-mile run. Cleaning the bays had followed that.

  By the time he had lunch, every bit of him was exhausted and he was ready for a break. Carter and two of the EMTs were watching television. Though John Michael sometimes sat with them, he’d been yearning for some peace and quiet. He went to his bunk and stretched out, happy to spend an hour reading a British mystery he’d picked up at the library.

  After he washed up, he wondered who in the Amish community they were going to visit. He didn’t know every Amish person in their area, of course, but he knew a lot of them.

  Visiting the Amish in this capacity gave him a feeling of satisfaction. He knew some members of the Amish community didn’t trust either the police or other men in uniform. John Michael liked to think he served as a needed bridge between the Amish community and the larger English one.

  After straightening his bed and putting the book in his locker, he slipped on the fleece firehouse jacket that they all wore in the winter. It had both his name and the department’s name and emblem on it. When he’d gotten it, he’d felt both official and proud.

  Now he wondered how his uniform would be received by the Amish man or woman. Some were pleased to have someone in the department speak Pennsylvania Dutch to them, others had a deep distrust of anyone of their background adopting such a mainstream occupation.

  Perhaps it didn’t matter how they reacted anyway. He’d begun to realize that he couldn’t control how people viewed him. All he could control was the way he lived his life.