Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
“Mom, have you thought about me joining junior firefighters yet?” James asked the next day after school. Kate had finished work early and was walking around the outside of the house, her phone in her hand. She’d googled ‘how to secure your house from snakes’ but apart from looking for holes in the brickwork and for pipes that didn’t have mesh in them, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing.
All she knew was she didn’t want anything creeping in that shouldn’t be there. The thought of it made her shudder.
She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him. “I have,” she said, stealing herself for the worst. “I just don’t think you’re ready for it yet. Maybe next year, if your grades are a little better.”
“Next year I’ll be a junior. And you’ll say I have to concentrate on my schoolwork and that I won’t have time.”
Kate winced, because that was exactly what she was planning to say to him. Because the truth was, she didn’t want him to be part of the scheme at all.
Because then he’d want to volunteer as an adult. And she’d be as afraid for him the same way she’d been afraid for Paul every time he got an alert.
Because being a firefighter wasn’t an easy job. Before moving to Hartson’s Creek to manage the volunteer team, Paul had been a captain in a big city force. The stories he’d told her made her feel panicky and anxious. And it wasn’t just that – even being a small town firefighter was dangerous. People got injured. People died.
She couldn’t bear for that person to be James.
She’d be waiting for the day somebody rushed in to fetch her from the library. And her heart couldn’t take it. Not with her son.
“I thought you were going to try out for football,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“I’m no good at football. I’ve never gotten picked for the team.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, his jaw jutting out. “I just want to do something that will make Dad proud.”
Her heart tightened. She stood up and turned to face him. This boy that was turning into a man in front of her eyes. Surely he couldn’t be this old. It felt like only a few months ago when he used to climb into her lap and hold her tight, his little chubby arms wrapped around her neck as he told her he wanted her to marry his daddy.
That he wanted her to be his mom.
And she was. In every way except biology, this boy was hers.
“Your dad would be proud of you,” she told him, her voice tight. “He is proud of you. He’s looking down on you and I know he sees what I see. You’re a kind, strong boy, James Connelly. You take care of your brother and sister and you take care of me. And you get good grades at school. In a couple of years you’ll go off to college and you’ll make us all even prouder.”
“What if I don’t want to go to college?” he asked her. “What if I want to become a firefighter like dad?”
“Dad wanted you to go to college,” she reminded him. “He saved up all that money. He wanted you to have choices, the kind of choices he didn’t have.”
“I have enough choices,” James told her.
“Oh sweetheart.” She smiled softly at him. “It’s a big world out there. And you’ll get to see it all. You’ll meet new people, learn so many things. Visit the places that your dad only dreamed of.” He never wanted James to be stuck in one place. Not like he had been.
“What if I want to stay here with you? You need help with Ethan and Addy.” He lifted a brow. “God only knows how much worse they’ll get when they’re teenagers.”
She wanted to laugh because suddenly her boy sounded so grown up. “I’ll cope,” she told him dryly. “The same way I did when you hit the dreaded thirteen.”
“Yeah, well I was a good kid.”
Reaching out, she cupped his face with her palm. “You still are.”
He grimaced, stepping out of her touch. “If I’m that good, why won’t you let me join the firefighters?”
And they were back to this again. He wasn’t letting go. But neither was she.
“Next year,” she promised. “I’ll think about it then.”
James pressed his lips together and nodded, then turned around and walked into the house and Kate let out a long breath.
She’d won the battle. But she’d long since learned that didn’t mean anything with teenagers.
She turned back to the house and recommenced her inspection, because dealing with snakes was so much easier than dealing with her son.
And she had a feeling that this discussion wasn’t over.
The Hartson’s Creek Memorial Library was a low modern brick building a few roads away from the town square. Kate had been working here for the last ten years, only taking time off when she had Ethan and Addy.
It was in the same strip as the police department and town park, and behind it were lush green fields that families came to picnic at in the summer months.
But today wasn’t about families. It was about bracing herself because it was Thursday, and Thursday were Stitch and Snitch days.
Okay, officially the Thursday morning club that met at the library was called the Hartson’s Creek Sewing and Knitting Club, but for as long as she could remember they called themselves Stitch and Snitch.
And the chief snitcher – Mary Cooper – was walking through the double doors, carrying her knitting bag that Kate knew for a fact contained the same sweater she’d been knitting since last November. It was a vermillion color that made Kate blink every time she saw it peeping out of the bag.
Not much stitching went on as far as she could tell.
“Kate, tell me, did you remember to put the chairs out this week?” Mary asked.
Kate took a deep breath and tried not to let her smile falter. “Yes, of course.” She’d forgotten once. Two months ago. And had yet to hear the end of it.
“Oh, and has anybody come about those birds on the roof? They made such a noise last week I couldn’t hear myself think.”
Couldn’t hear the gossip more like. Kate shrugged. “I put a call in to county, but there’s a backlog on their bird removal service.”
“Damn.” Mary frowned. “I guess we should try a little poisoned seed.”
Over Kate’s dead body. “I’m sure they’ll come eventually. In the meantime, I’ve made sure all the windows are shut.”
“Good plan.” Mary nodded, about to turn away. Then she tipped her head and looked Kate dead in the eye.
“You look different.”
“I do?”
“Hmmm.” Mary’s overgrown brows pulled tightly together. “Have you changed your lipstick?”
“No.” Mostly because she wasn’t wearing any.
“Done your hair then? Is it a different color? You look…” Mary pressed her lips together. “Attractive.”
Oh God, she wasn’t going to laugh. How could somebody make a compliment sound more like an accusation?
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment, dear.”
Of course it wasn’t.
“Maybe it’s time you started thinking about dating again,” Mary said to her.
“I’m sorry?” Kate’s brows pinched together.
“We were talking about it while we were knitting last week. There are a lot of eligible men in Hartson’s Creek. And a woman shouldn’t be on her own for too long.”
Kate frowned. “Have you been talking to my mom?”
“No, why? Should I?” Mary pressed her lips together.
Absolutely not. Having her mom trying to set her up was bad enough. Having Mary taking an interest in her lack-of-dating life was something that wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m still deep in grief,” Kate said, leaning forward, putting on her best sad looking face.
“A good man will get you out of that, dear,” Mary said, patting her hand. “I read an article in a magazine the other day. Sex is good for sadness.”
Okay this was going too far. Dating was one thing. Talking about sex with the head honcho of the Stitch and Snitchers? No thanks.
The door opened and Shana walked in, carrying two Styrofoam cups of coffee, followed by a huddle of ladies carrying sewing cases, already talking loudly as they walked in. Luckily, their arrival diverted Mary’s attention, and Kate used the opportunity to walk back to the counter where Shana was standing.
“Quick,” she said, her voice low. “Ask me something about the Dewey Decimal system.”
“Stitch and Snitch getting you down?”
“Something like that.”
“Good thing I bought you a coffee then,” Shana said, grinning. “I got them to put an extra shot in it. Figured you’d need the caffeine.”
“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Kate said, taking the coffee gratefully.
“Stop quoting Van Morrison at me. You know it always makes me weak in the knees.” Shana watched as the Stitchers filed into the recreation room. “So what gives?”
“Mary asked me when I was going to date again.” Kate rolled her eyes. “Why is it that everybody wants to know that?”
“It’s the year thing,” Shana said. “They feel like they’ve given you some grace. Now it’s time to meddle again.”
“I wish they wouldn’t.” Kate shook her head. “I swear snakes are easier to deal with than them. Did you know that sex is good for sadness?”
Shana laughed out loud. “Who told you that?”
“Mary.”
Shana laughed louder. “Oh God, tell me she didn’t.”
But Kate just lifted a brow.
“Well, the woman is wrong about a lot of things, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day,” Shana said. “Sex is pretty good for everything. Maybe you should try it.”
“No thanks. I’ll stick to reading books in bed.”
“At least choose some raunchy ones.” Shana winked. “Have you checked out the latest Meghan Quinn book?”
“No,” Kate lied, because of course she had. She may not ever be ready to date again, but it didn’t mean she was dead inside.
“That’s good. Because it’ll make you want to have sex with every gorgeous, rugged man in town. Ask me how I know.”
But she didn’t need to ask. And there was only one gorgeous, rugged man she thought about when she read romance books.
And he was the one man she shouldn’t be thinking about.