Rescued by the Firefighter. Gail Martin Gaymer
waist that fell in soft folds over Ashley’s trim figure. Today her cousin looked gorgeous as she stood close to her father, who waited to walk her down the aisle.
Ashley beckoned to her again, concern on her face.
Paula hurried to her side. “What is it?”
“Is something wrong? You were looking at me, and I thought—”
“I was admiring your dress.” She chuckled. “We all loved it the moment we saw it.”
Tension vanished from Ashley’s face. “Look at you. I’ve never seen you in a gown. You’re beautiful.”
No one had called her beautiful before. She lowered her gaze to the pastel coral dress she wore, a color in autumn leaves floating from the trees outside the church. “Thanks. I love it.”
Images of fall flashed through her mind, a time of rejuvenation as the summer foliage took a rest anticipating a rebirth in spring. That was what she wanted for herself. Her lingering memories needed to be buried so her life could sprout new hope. Though her optimism didn’t always deaden her difficult past, little by little she’d seen the sun. She had her cousins to thank for that.
“I love this time of year.”
Ashley’s voice cut through her thoughts. “I know. It’s when Devon and I settled in as a couple following my accident.” Her eyes grew misty. “I’ll never forget wakening that day with a gorgeous angel—”
“Angel?”
“Okay, it was Devon, but he was like an angel. He was peering at me and holding poor little Joey, who was so frightened.” She blinked tears from her eyes. “He saved me in so many ways. He heard Joey crying and then saw the downed tree and came running.”
“He’s that kind of man, Ash, a gift after all you went through.” Her cousin’s remembrance filled her heart. She couldn’t picture herself being rescued by anyone.
Ashley glanced at her dad and then her watch. “I wonder what’s taking so long.” She lifted concerned eyes to Paula. “Is Devon up front yet?”
Paula stepped back to the doorway and shook her head. “He’ll be there.” She drew back to her stance near the wall, her eyes on the chancel. The ceremony should have started five minutes earlier, but that was life, too. Things didn’t always happen as planned.
With Ashley’s past heartbreak in her mind, Paula wished this time her cousin’s marriage would last a lifetime, the kind of union she’d dreamed about for years. Though still single at thirty-five, Paula would still enjoy Ashley’s wedding and sometimes let her thoughts consider marriage to a wonderful man—whether it would happen or not.
Organ music diverted her from her thoughts. The men were filing out from somewhere, and she gave Ashley a thumbs-up. Her heart skipped as she began her trek down the aisle. Ahead, Devon, his brother, Derek, and his firefighter friend Clint Donatelli observed her slow pace to the front. Though uncomfortable with all eyes on her, she managed to concentrate on the happiness she’d found living in Ferndale, welcomed by her cousins and Uncle Fred, who had graciously invited her to stay with him until she found her own place. She’d do that one day. Soon, she hoped. But that precluded finding a job and finalizing her mother’s estate. Too much to think about today.
The scent of the flowers drew her back, and she gazed at the men, still observing her snail-paced journey. She’d grown fond of Devon with his sturdy frame and not one ounce of fat—just solid muscle. So was his friend Clint, handsome in his dark suit, tall and lean, his Italian heritage reflected in his dark brown hair flecked with gray and classic features. But the stereotypical Italian image ended when it came to his deep blue eyes.
Clint was her idea of a perfect man, but those dreams, as much as she loved them, seemed out of reach. Her relationships with men had always ended in disappointment. Sometimes worse.
Drawing her focus from Clint, she concentrated on her long, slow trek. When she reached her place at the front, she turned to admire Neely gliding down the aisle, wearing a hunter-green dress shimmering in the light from the windows and carrying a bouquet the same as hers, a blend of autumn flowers—golden black-eyed Susans, orange roses, flame calla lilies, green hydrangea blossoms and burnt-orange hypericum berries.
The music grew louder, introducing the bridal fanfare. The guests rose and faced the entrance as Ashley moved forward on her father’s arm. Startled by her tender feelings, Paula blinked to clear her blurred vision as tears sneaked from her eyes and formed rivulets down her cheeks. With everyone’s attention on Ashley, she brushed away the moisture, digging deep to shoo away her emotion. This kind of reaction had been unwelcome in her life. Whatever bad happened, she’d always buried her emotions, unwilling to give way to something as useless as tears.
Ashley nudged her sister with the bridal bouquet, and Neely grasped it as Ashley and Devon exchanged vows. The familiar words swept over her, leaving her with questions. How could anyone promise to love someone forever, to be faithful and true to them in sickness and health until death? Her parents’ lives had provided no example of love or faithfulness. Her own experiences left her empty and frustrated.
Instead of wasting time thinking about the past, she needed to focus on the future, just as Ashley was experiencing today. She studied Ashley’s and Devon’s faces, seeing what she’d never seen in her own reflection. Even Neely’s gaze toward her husband, Jonny, seated in the second row, was filled with a kind of beauty that she’d always considered part of a fairy tale—Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty awakened with a kiss.
Her own experiences identified more with the Beauty facing the Beast but without the loving tears that turned the beast into a handsome prince. Instead of tears, her emotion had turned to ice. The man who’d promised her a lifetime of happiness but never offered her a ring had left her with a wounded heart and an empty purse. A longtime relationship filled with promises as cold as a winter ice storm.
But today the moisture in her eyes unleashed more positive thoughts. Could the new door that had opened with her uncle’s family unlock her heart and her trust, as well? Life didn’t always offer such choices. Yet here she was in a new environment surrounded by a supportive family.
As gentle as a breeze, the wedding kiss ended, and Ashley reached for her bouquet. On Devon’s arm, she smiled at the guests as they moved down the aisle to greet them in the narthex before they left for the hall. Neely latched arms with Devon’s brother, and Clint stepped to Paula’s side. Her pulse skipped when he locked his arm to hers, noting his strength beneath the dark suit that complemented his over-six-foot frame.
Her reaction frustrated her, but she managed a smile and ignored her pulse, which was galloping like an unbridled mare. Somewhere in her subconscious, an alert sounded. Vic had been out of her life for almost three years, but she still knew better than to even think romantic thoughts. Not again. She’d fallen prey before. Reacting to someone she barely knew put her on dangerous ground. Yet, despite her wise counsel, Clint melted the ice in her veins and sent warmth coursing through her. Her mental struggle floated away on the organ music. Today was about Ashley’s wedding and not some kind of ridiculous fairy-tale moment.
* * *
Clint guided Paula down the aisle, surprised at her response when he’d taken her arm as the others had done. He didn’t think of her as timid, but he’d felt her guard mount at his touch. When they’d met for the ceremony rehearsal, she’d stood back, observing before she became involved. Beneath her quiet demeanor, he sensed her mind snapping. And that was what did it. She’d aroused his interest. No one had done that for years. He’d chalked it up to her vulnerability. Firefighters had a penchant for helping people in trouble. Though she smiled and chatted once she’d warmed up, beneath her smile, he sensed something deeper churning inside a locked trunk. Yet she couldn’t hide those lovely eyes, the color of caramel, which seemed to match her long, wavy hair.
He almost shook his head at his concocted analysis. The woman was new to town. Some people took longer to get comfortable. He’d spoken a little to her and sensed she wasn’t a churchgoer. Yet faith seemed a stronghold