Safe in the Fireman's Arms

“He needed my number for the...the Founder’s Day thing.”

Susan looked at his retreating form and then back to Maggie. “You have an appointment at eleven Thursday for your hair. I thought we could do lunch while we’re out.”

“Susan, I can’t just leave the shop in the middle of the day. On a Thursday, no less. One of the busiest days of the week.”

“Of course you can. Mother told me Beck Hollander is back from vacation. He’ll cover for you.”

“Beck who?”

“Didn’t Daddy tell you? Beck works part-time a few days a week. He’s going to be a senior this year. Kind of a strange nerdy kid, but real smart, too. He’s been helping Daddy for a few years now.”

“I’m sure Beck and I will get along just fine. I speak fluent nerd.” Maggie’s gaze drifted across the street to the hardware store. “Um, Susan, I have to run.”

“What about the dress? It needs to be hemmed.”

“Can we do that later? Maybe tonight?”

“Sure. I’m taking mom to Four Forks in about thirty minutes.”

“Four Forks?”

“Little town, north of us. They have a yarn shop she likes to visit.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll call you when we get back. We’ll need to talk makeup and accessories, too.”

“Makeup and accessories.” She sighed, resigned. “Okay. Whatever.”

Leaving the shop Maggie hurried crossed the street and pulled open the expansive glass doors of the hardware store. A heady excitement raced through her. She breathed deeply, and forced herself to relax. Now she was in her element. No need to rush the pleasure. Her steps slowed as she moved with purpose down the aisles, getting the lay of the land.

Birdseed and birdhouses. Nuts and bolts. Shiny tools. Pails and buckets. Even pots and pans. Oh, wow, there was even stick candy. Sassafras, horehound and peppermint.

Oh, this was a real, old-fashioned hardware store.

Her pulse quickened.

What clothing stores did for women like Susan, and bookstores did for her parents, well, that was what hardware stores did for Maggie. It was like coming home.

“Can I help you?”

Jake? Maggie’s head jerked as she turned around. “What are you doing here?”

He glanced around curiously. “Why shouldn’t I be here?”

Over an intercom a voice boomed. “Chief, you have a phone call.”

“You work here?” She arched a brow.

“I own the place, Maggie.”

A small gasp slipped from her lips. “You own a hardware store?” She barely squeaked out the words.

“Yeah, why?” He glanced back at her with a confused frown. “Hang on a second, I’ll be right back.”

“He owns a hardware store,” she murmured. How could she resist such a man? Handsome, charming, bigger than life and he owned a hardware store.

Certainly the Lord never promised life would be fair, but this was more than even she could handle at the moment.

She strode to the exit.

“Maggie, wait.”

His words only increased her pace, as though a scary dog nipped at her heels.

“Maggie.”

“I. Have. To. Go.” Hands on the glass, she shoved open the door and ran, passing nearly a half a dozen small shops, until she was well around the corner and nearly to her uncle’s place.

Dear Lord. Help me. I’ve only just gotten the pieces of my life glued back together.

She was naive and inexperienced and if she wasn’t careful she’d give her heart away to a man who’d carelessly break it into little pieces...again.

* * *

“You’re fast, I’ll give you that,” Jake said as he turned the corner a full minute after Maggie.

Thankfully she had stopped. Her brown eyes were wide as she stared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you own a hardware store?”

He rubbed his jaw as he considered the question. “Ah. You got me there.”

Strands of silky brown hair had escaped her ponytail in places, the only indication that she had raced an entire block without breaking a sweat.

“What happened back there?” he asked.

She was silent, her eyes on the sidewalk.

Jake shook his head. “You know, maybe you and I should start over.” He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Jake MacLaughlin. Part-time volunteer fireman, full-time owner and manager of Paradise Hardware.”

She raised her head and eyed his hand for a moment before finally placing her small one in his. It fit nicely.

Pink tinged her cheeks.

“And you are?” he nudged her along.

“Margaret Jones, assistant professor of physical science.” She sighed. “Currently unemployed.”

He nodded and reluctantly released her soft fingers. “Nice to meet you.”