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He nodded toward the bag. “Did you want to start taking pictures already?” He hoped not. Maybe, given a day or two, he’d get used to the idea of having a stranger recording their lives. Or maybe not.
“Not until your family is ready.” Her smile took on a tinge of embarrassment. “I’m afraid the camera is my security blanket. If I don’t have it with me, I always think I’ll miss the best shot of my career.”
“Somehow I doubt that dinner with the Flanagans will give you that.”
“I also brought along a few magazines that contain some of my photo essays. I thought seeing them might reassure you that I know what I’m doing.”
He must have been too obvious. “I’d love to see some of your work.”
“So would I.” His mother swept into the room and over to them, still moving as lightly as a girl in spite of having five grown children. Six, if you counted Brendan, the orphaned nephew she’d raised.
His mother grasped Julie’s hand warmly in both of hers. “I’m Siobhan Flanagan. Welcome to our home. Goodness, Seth, what are you doing keeping Ms. White standing here like this? She’ll think I didn’t raise you right.”
“Julie, please, not Ms. White,” she said.
The words were right, but there was something strained about Julie’s smile that told him nervousness had taken hold again. What was wrong with the woman? Nobody could be more warm and welcoming than Siobhan Flanagan.
“I’m sure she’s not going to blame my shortcomings on you, Mom.”
“You kids came by those all by yourselves, didn’t you?” His mother swatted him lightly. “I don’t know how I got through raising the lot of you.”
He grabbed her and kissed her cheek. “Go on, now. Which of us would you like to get rid of?”
He glanced toward Julie as he spoke, and her expression startled him. For pity’s sake, she looked as if she’d never seen horseplay before. If that was the case, she wouldn’t last around the family long enough to do that story of hers.
His mother seemed to notice something, as well. She freed herself from his grasp, probably intending to try and put Julie at ease. But whatever she might have said was lost in the thunder of running feet.
Davy charged in from the kitchen at the headlong run that was his preferred method of locomotion. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.” The yell was earsplitting. “I help Grammy make supper.”
“I’ll bet you did, Davy-boy.” He scooped his son up and tossed him in the air, then held him against his chest. “Davy, say hello to Ms. White.”
Davy stuck his finger in his mouth, afflicted with sudden shyness, then apparently decided she was okay and lunged toward her. Julie’s arms went out automatically to grasp him, and he threw his arms around her neck in a hug.
She looked a little stunned.
“Sorry about that. Davy’s a born hugger.”
“That’s all right.” Her voice was muffled as she returned his son’s embrace. She pulled back a little. “Hello, Davy. It’s nice to meet you.”
The words were conventional. Her expression wasn’t, and it rocked him back on his heels.
He took a breath, trying to adjust his impressions of her once again. Ryan wouldn’t call her an ice maiden if he saw the way she looked now. Julie had plenty of feelings.
The rest of that conversation flickered through his mind. No, he certainly wouldn’t be expressing any interest in Julie White. He wanted someone safe, and whatever he was reading in Julie’s sea-green eyes wasn’t safe at all.
Julie felt as if she’d taken a blow to the heart. She was too overwhelmed with feelings to think straight, and she could only hope none of them showed on her face.
She’d told herself, objectively, that her mission here was clear. She had to make sure Lisa’s child had the best, and then she’d step back out of his life again.
But she hadn’t thought about how it would feel to hold a living, breathing, sturdy little boy in her arms. A squirming little boy, she realized.
She set him down, thankful that the movement hid her face for a moment. When she stood again, she was composed.
“So this is your son. He’s adorable.”
He was. She didn’t want to stop looking at him. He had a mop of soft red curls that glinted gold where the light touched. His eyes were the same golden brown that Seth’s were, and he had a sprinkling of freckles across his cheeks.
“Yeah, we think he’s a pretty neat kid.” Seth’s words were casual, but love and pride blazed across his face.
This was something else she’d left out of her planning. She hadn’t imagined the power of the love Seth had for his child, and it left her groping for solid ground.
Davy ran across the room to his uncle. Ryan scooped him up and tossed him in the air, the boy’s head nearly touching the ceiling. She flinched at the sight; they ought to be more careful with Lisa’s child.
Davy might look like his father, but there was an indefinable something in his heart-shaped face that reminded her of Lisa. Her fingers itched to pull out her camera and start snapping.
“Did you say you had some articles to show us?” Siobhan Flanagan’s question brought her back to her senses.
She couldn’t start taking pictures of Davy. She couldn’t do anything that would alert the Flanagan family to her interest in him.
“Yes, of course.” She pulled several magazine issues from her satchel. “These should give you an idea of the type of piece I have in mind.”
“Come, sit down.” Siobhan took one of the magazines and handed another to Seth. Then she drew Julie down beside her on the well-worn sofa.
Julie began explaining the photo piece she’d done on women pilots, but she could only give it half of her attention. The other half was focused on Seth, who sat opposite them with an article she’d done on one of the grand old resort hotels of the Maryland shore. He frowned at something, and her throat tightened.
Ridiculous, to care what he thought of her work. They had no relationship, in spite of the fact that he’d been married to her sister. That was the way Lisa had wanted it. The way she wanted it.
He glanced at her. “I’ve seen this place, but your pictures make me think I’ve never really looked at it.”
She was irrationally pleased. “I hope that’s a compliment.”
“It is.”
He gave her that easy grin, and her breath caught. Seth might be the quieter of the Flanagans, but he packed a powerful masculine punch, all the same.
“I’m telling you, if we’d taken in a bigger line to begin with—”
Two men came in, their conversation stopping when they saw her. Even as she tried to identify them from what the investigator had told her, a young woman came in behind them, running her hand through tumbled red curls. More Flanagans, obviously.
Her nerves twitched again as Davy ran to the older man, who picked him up, kissed him, then tossed him casually to the woman. She’d be the first one to admit she didn’t know anything about raising an almost-three-year-old, but surely all that stimulation couldn’t be good for him right before supper.
She and Lisa had always had an early supper in the nursery, followed by bath and bed, supervised by a revolving progression of nannies and au pairs. She had a vague memory of Lisa’s mother popping in to say good-night once they were in bed. She’d worn silk and diamonds and smelled of expensive perfume.
No one had stayed in their lives long. Not her mother or Lisa’s mother or any of the nannies. She wouldn’t want that for Davy, obviously, but was this better?
Her head already throbbed from too many people talking at once. There were way too many Flanagans.
She stood, trying to make sense of the introductions flying at her. Seth’s father, Joe, bluff and hearty. His white hair still had traces of the red it had once been. Seth’s minister cousin, Brendan, who was also the fire department chaplain, explained that his fiancée was working late so he’d come to beg supper from his aunt. The red-haired young woman was Terry, Seth’s paramedic sister.
Too much confusion. She backed up until she bumped into the mantel. This was better. She could stay out of the mainstream and observe. If only she could put a camera in front of her face, she’d be fine.
Did they always all talk at once? And pass Davy around in that casual manner? Apparently there had been a fire call after she’d left the station that afternoon, and they were engaged in an animated argument over the order in which equipment had been called in.
She took a steadying breath. This was her chance to observe, she reminded herself. She could see how they interacted with Davy and with each other.
Seth was the quiet one, she realized, but not for any lack of strength. He came across as solid and even-tempered, a peacemaker in the face of some flippant remark of Ryan’s that brought a rebuke from his father, or Terry’s passionate defense to Brendan of some action Julie didn’t understand. For that matter, they all seemed to be speaking a language they understood and she didn’t.
In the midst of the hubbub, Seth’s gaze met hers. His smile seemed to pierce her heart, adding another layer to the confusion.
He took a few steps toward her. “Still sure you want to have anything to do with the Flanagans?” he asked. “Trust me, it’s even worse when the rest of the family is here.”
Family. The word lodged in her mind like a shard of glass. What was she doing, trying to evaluate the family Lisa had chosen? She certainly didn’t have any basis for comparison.
She could back out. It wasn’t too late. She could leave, and no one would ever know.
Davy, racing across the room after a ball, ran full tilt into her. She stooped to catch him, seeing the laughter that lit his eyes and engaged his whole body.
Her breath caught, and for an instant she thought her heart did, too. Who was she trying to kid? She couldn’t back out. For better or worse, she had to go through with this.
Chapter Two
Her mind fogged from a mostly sleepless night, Julie drove along the tree-lined street that led to the fire station. Even several cups of coffee had not been enough to clear her head. She wasn’t ready to join Seth for this orientation meeting he’d arranged at the firehouse this morning, but she didn’t have a choice.
She’d spent most of the night trying to sort out her feelings, only to find that they defied classification. She’d thought she could do this thing calmly, coolly, without emotional involvement. Instead she’d found that just seeing Davy had brought on a torrent of memories that hadn’t surfaced in years.
One still clung, as insubstantial as a cobweb but just as hard to get rid of. Lisa couldn’t have been much older than Davy, so Julie had probably been about five. Lisa had woken with one of the nightmares she’d had so frequently. Their nanny-of-the-moment hadn’t been patient with children who cried after they’d been put to bed, so Julie had taken Lisa into bed with her.
They’d snuggled together, and she’d patted Lisa, telling her over and over that everything was all right. Finally she’d felt the small body relax into sleep against her.
It’s all right, Lisa. I’ll take care of you.
But she hadn’t. If she had, maybe Lisa wouldn’t have found it necessary to break all ties with her in order to start her new life.
I let her down. I didn’t mean to, but I did. Did God accept that as an excuse? Probably not.
I won’t let Davy down. I promise. I’ll do what’s best for Lisa’s son.
That meant gaining Seth’s acceptance in order to see what Davy’s life was like, so that’s what she would do.
Then what? For an instant something in her rebelled in answer to that. She’d have to disappear. She couldn’t continue to be a part of Davy’s life, because if she did, her father might find out that the boy existed.
Ronald Alexander’s potential response to that knowledge was incalculable, but the only thing he’d ever loved was wielding power. If he knew about Lisa’s child, he wouldn’t be able to resist trying to control the little boy’s life.
So he could never know. She drew up at the curb, switching off the ignition. She didn’t have any choice but to go forward. Maybe, belatedly, she could keep the promise she’d made to Lisa.
She walked into the huge, echoing garage. Seth knew she was coming, so he’d be around someplace. A figure moved on the back of one of the fire trucks, drawing her attention. Seth jumped lightly to the concrete floor and came toward her.
“Julie. Hi.”
He wiped his hands on a rag as he approached her, his body compact and sturdy in the uniform’s dark blue pants and shirt with the red-and-white Suffolk Fire Department patch. Her stomach gave a little flutter of nerves.
“Hi. I hope this is a convenient time for me to pester you on the job.”
“It’s fine unless the alarm goes, but nobody can predict that.” If he thought her presence was a nuisance, he must be determined not to let it show.
“Are you busy?” She nodded toward the cloth.
He grinned, tossing it aside. “Not really. It’s just a compulsion firefighters have, to make sure their rigs look the best. If you see a sloppy or dirty apparatus, you don’t think much of the firefighters who man her.”
She filed that tidbit of information away for the article, assuming it got written. “I don’t want to get in the way.”
“A pretty visitor is never in the way.” A wheeled platform rolled out from under the nearest truck, and the firefighter she’d seen the day before smiled up at her. “I’m Dave Hanratty.”
“Married. With kids,” Seth added.
“Hey, I’m married, not blind.” Dave got up. “I can give Julie the tour if you’re too busy.”
She’d prefer that both of them stopped paying so much attention to her. “Really, I don’t want to take either of you away from your work. If you’ll just give me permission to start snapping, I’ll disappear into the woodwork.”
“You can take any pictures you want,” Seth said. “But I’ll show you around so you know what’s where. Dave can go back to inspecting the undercarriage.”
“Single guys get all the breaks,” Dave complained. He pulled the platform over with his foot. “When you’re ready for my close-up, just let me know.”
“Who would want a close-up of that mug?” Seth asked innocently.
She was beginning to catch on to the ribbing that flowed ceaselessly between the men. “I promise,” Julie said. “If I want a close-up, you’ll be the first to know.”
Laughing, Dave rolled himself smoothly back under the truck.
Seth gestured. “The engine room, but I guess you figured that out for yourself. We spend a lot of time here, cleaning, training, doing maintenance. Come on upstairs and see the rest of it.”
She pulled out one of the cameras she’d brought with her. Chances were good that anything she shot today would look too stiff, but she had to start or they’d never reach the point of comfort.
Seth gave a sidelong look at the camera as he led the way to the stairwell. She didn’t have much trouble interpreting that look.
“The camera bothers you, doesn’t it?”
He shrugged. “I guess. Who knows—you might catch me doing something I shouldn’t, and then the chief would be on my back. Or something dangerous, and then my mother would be after me. Trust me, that’s worse.”
“What would you do that you shouldn’t?
“Horseplay.” He grinned. “Firefighters are great ones for practical jokes. Officially, the chief disapproves.”
He stood back to let her go up the narrow flight of wooden stairs first. She could feel him behind her as she climbed. “I’d think your mother would be used to having firefighters in the family by this time.”
“I guess mothers never stop worrying.”
She paused at the top of the steps so she could see his expression. “What about you? It must worry you, being in a dangerous job when you’re a single parent.”
She might as well not have bothered, because his expression didn’t give one thing away.
&nb
sp; “I don’t take chances,” he said shortly. “This is the kitchen.” He gestured. “We spend a lot of time here, and yes, we cook. People always ask that.”
It was only as Lisa’s sister that she really had the right to have asked that question about his job. He was a single father. He did have a potentially dangerous job. This would be so much easier if she could just tell him the truth.
Lisa hadn’t wanted him to know about her family, either. That was the bottom line. She searched for a safe remark.
“Are you a good cook?”
His expression eased at the innocuous question. “My mother probably wouldn’t think so, but I’m about as good as anyone else here. All of us here have to cook for the group occasionally. I make a mean chili, anyway.”
She took a few shots of the kitchen that she’d undoubtedly delete from the digital camera, then continued snapping as he showed her a living area furnished with what looked like cast-offs from someone’s house and a small exercise room furnished with weights and a punching bag.
He gestured toward a closed door. “Bunks and bathrooms are that way, but a couple of guys are sleeping right now.”
“And if the alarm goes off?”
“If a call comes in, don’t get between that door and the pole.”
The shiny brass pole led through a hole in the floor to the engine room below. “So the pole really exists, does it?” She began snapping again. “I thought that might be a myth.”
“There’s a good reason for it. You have half a dozen firefighters trying to get down a flight of stairs at the same time, you got a mess. The pole’s faster and safer.”
She focused her lens on the opening. “You wouldn’t care to give me a demonstration, would you?”
“I will if you try it, too.”
She studied him through her viewfinder. He looked serious. “I’m not the athletic type.”
“If you’re going to go out on calls with us, you’ll have to stop hiding behind the camera and take a risk or two. And that’s the whole idea of this, isn’t it?”