The Firefighter's Refrain

But Finn remembered. And she’d never forgive them for it.

Shake it off, Finn. They’ll never change. And, as Pete loved to say, What’s done is done, so just accept it. Besides, she’d played a small role in the accident, too...

Finn stepped up to Mark’s table. “What can I get you gents?”

“Sweet tea and a burger,” he said. “Medium rare, with a side of fries.”

“For breakfast?” Sam chuckled. “Broke up with the dietician already, did you?”

“Mind your own business, smart guy. This pretty young gal has better things to do than watch you poke your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Ah, but it does belong. As your partner, I’m concerned about your health.”

Even Finn had to laugh at that.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Sam told her.

“When I deliver your orders,” she said, winking at Mark, “you’ll have to tell me all about the woman who almost talked you into a health food diet.” She pointed her pencil at Sam. “If he starts talking about her before I get back, stop him, hear?”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, no, ma’am.”

Ciara had been half right, Finn thought, clipping the order to a mini clothespin on the order wheel. Sam was handsome...but he had a sense of humor. In her experience, the two didn’t coexist nearly often enough.

“I don’t get it,” Rowdy said, snapping the ticket from the rotating wheel. “Why does Mark eat two meals a day in here when he could eat free at his own place?”

“I know why,” Ciara said, clapping like a schoolgirl. “Mark eats here because he’s bored with the food on his own menu, that’s why!”

Innocence radiated from Ciara’s brown eyes, prompting Finn to draw her into another hug. “You are so smart!”

“Not as smart as you, but—but—but that’s okay, because I’m the pretty sister.”

Laughing, Finn said, “Yes, you sure are.” She was lovely, even with the ropelike scar that started near her right nostril and disappeared in her hair...one more reason to resent their parents.

“Did I tell you that Mommy called me today?”

Finn took a moment to gather her self-control. “Really,” she said through clenched teeth. A call from Misty could only mean one thing: trouble.

“She’s coming to Nashville in a few months, and, and she wants to stay with us!”

There was barely room for the two of them in the apartment above the diner, even before Misty’s suitcases exploded with clothes, shoes, makeup and hair products.

“I’ll book her a room at a nice hotel. We’ll all enjoy the visit more if we’re not stepping on each other’s toes all day and night.”

“But, Finn... Mommy misses us. She said—she said she wants to snuggle and watch old movies together. And eat popcorn.” Ciara raised both shoulders, smiling. “And drink cocoa!”

“It’s August, Kee. Nobody drinks cocoa in August.”

“Why not? We have air-conditioning.”

Oh, if only she had Ciara’s “keep it simple” gift!

“Did she say when she’ll get here?”

“No. She, she need to make some arrange—arrangements.”

“Aha.” Finn recognized it as Misty speak for I’ll be there, eventually...unless someone makes me a better offer.

“Promise me you won’t be too disappointed if Misty can’t come. You know how...busy she is.”

“I won’t be disappointed because she’ll be here! She can sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Finn and Rowdy exchanged a wary glance.

“You’ll see,” Ciara added. “She’ll come. You won’t—you won’t really make her stay in a hotel, will you?”

“Maybe you ought to book a room for yourself,” Rowdy told Finn.

But his joke fell flat as she recalled Misty’s last spontaneous visit. A local newswoman had reserved the diner for a bachelorette party, and while Finn had worked, Misty had decided to treat Ciara to her first pub crawl. Not only had she forgotten that even one piña colada would interact poorly with Ciara’s medications, but she’d left Ciara alone—supposedly “just long enough for a few dances.” Alone, afraid and out of her element, Ciara had panicked and wandered off. If not for the elderly Baltimore couple who’d coaxed Finn’s number from her...

Finn shuddered at the awful things that could have happened to someone as sweet tempered and naive as Ciara.

Rowdy shoved two plates onto the serving counter. “Order up.”

“Can I deliver it, Finn? I won’t drop anything. I promise.”

She’d assigned Ciara the lunch counter to save her from having to walk while balancing food-laden trays. But this request seemed important to her, and what better way to let her sister prove herself than with two identical orders, delivered to two easygoing guys?

Ciara took a plate in each hand. “Two trips are better than making a mess, right? I’ll be right back for their—for their sweet tea.”

Finn got a little teary-eyed watching Ciara approach the table, then engage in friendly conversation with Sam and Mark. She’d been through so much since the accident, but instead of coming out the other side bitter and self-pitying, Ciara woke every morning smiling, looking forward to the day. Finn plucked a paper napkin from a dispenser on the counter and blotted her eyes.

“Quit worrying about her,” Rowdy said, patting Finn’s shoulder. “She’s a happy, well-adjusted young woman, thanks mostly to you.”

Rowdy thought he knew the whole story, but he didn’t. He meant well, though, so Finn sent him a feeble smile anyway. Keeping a roof over Ciara’s head and food in her belly—well, anyone with a half a heart and a steady paycheck could do that much. Finn believed she owed her the rest. Whoever her sister was—and might become—was due to her own persistence and good-hearted nature. Finn wouldn’t take credit for that.

Rowdy pointed. “Shape up, girl. Here she comes.”

She picked up a clean cloth and spritzed disinfectant on the lunch counter. If Ciara saw her tears, Finn could blame the cleaning product.

“They changed their minds. They—they want sodas instead of sweet tea.” Ciara scooped crushed ice into identical red plastic glasses. “You know, I think that Sam guy likes you.”

“All of my customers like me,” Finn teased.

“Yeah, but he’s the only one who stares at you that way.”

“What way?” Finn looked across the diner, straight into the big blue eyes of Sam Marshall, whose dimple appeared at the same time as his charming, slanted smile. It didn’t seem rehearsed, like the flirtations of so many other rock star hopefuls who frequented The Right Note.

“See there?” Ciara wrapped her hands around the full, fizzing tumblers and started back to the table. “Told you he liked you.”