The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart. Annie O'Neil
than she’d originally thought it might be. Mundane had been her goal but, as usual these days, she found she hadn’t quite made the right call. Apart from the requisite paperwork, it was great fun to spend time with the children, even if she interacted with most of them when they weren’t at their best.
She still had to force herself to take each case as it came, but the occasional heart-racer—a broken collarbone, a deep cut to the forehead, a pencil stabbed into an unsuspecting student’s arm—had all been little teasers reawakening the Liesel who’d spent over five years thriving off the high-stakes charge of saving lives. It was a life she thought she’d needed to lay to rest. But now she felt as though it was her personal mission to provide the children with a safe haven in the school. Everyone deserved that when they were in pain—to feel secure.
It was why she had moved back home after giving birth to Liam. Being on the mountain—the mountain that had taken Eric’s life—had been just too much. His parents had been amazing, more supportive than she could have ever imagined, and knowing Liam wouldn’t be able to see his paternal grandparents as often as they wished made the decision even harder. They did their best to make her feel a part of their own family, but when her own parents had flown over to see her and meet Liam she’d known in an instant where she belonged. Home. Australia. Where the hot sun and burnt landscape provided no memories of the snowcapped mountains where her heart had been ripped from her chest three short years ago.
Liesel skipped up the steps of the bus and grinned at the sight of the children jockeying for the “top spots.” Nothing had changed from when she was a kid. Front seats and backseats were still the most popular and now the mayhem of fifteen children organizing themselves in the middle rows played out in front of her.
The seven-year-olds had clearly had a wonderful time at the farm. Some carefully held eggs in Mr. Jones’s distinctive red cartons in their laps. A gaggle of children were plastering their faces to the windows to catch final glimpses of the sheep and cattle. Others were talking about helping feed the orphaned lambs, and it was just about impossible not to hear Devlin already bragging about how he’d helped the fireman pull apart the iron bars with his own hands to get free of the crush. A quick glimpse toward the barn and she could just see him swinging into the cab of his truck. Yum. Talk about eye candy!
Liesel felt Cassie sending her a knowing look as Jack’s name was bandied about by the children. She sent her friend a smirk and didn’t bother to hide her grin.
This was good. She didn’t feel she was just convincing herself now. It was good. Being around the children all day reminded her of life’s endless possibilities. A year ago she could only see dead ends. Now? Now she was ready to slowly start carving out a new life for herself and Liam.
The last thing in the world she wanted for her son was to have his life curtailed by her grief. It had taken every ounce of energy she’d possessed, but when her parents had offered her use of their holiday let—their “retirement fund”—for the first few months she spent out here in Engleton, she’d gratefully accepted. She’d have to move out when the summer holidays came, but that was a bridge to cross in a few months. It was as if fate had been giving her a gentle nudge. Go on, it had said, take a chance.
Liesel sank into a seat near the driver, a little sigh slipping through her lips. For her son, she would take chances.
This was Jack’s favorite stretch of road along the Murray Valley and he’d missed it. No doubt about it. Four years was a long time to stay away from home. There’d been phone calls, but a clean break had been called for and he had made it easy for everyone by packing a bag and leaving.
Intuitively, Jack guided the truck through the sloping hills that spilled into a wide river basin. The land was thick with spring vines unfurling new leaves and clutches of miniature grapes. Next year’s wine.
He glanced at the cloudless sky, knowing his background had built in a need to check the weather at regular intervals. His father had done it instinctively and now—well, the apple hadn’t fallen too far from the tree. Just a bit farther than usual.
As the moments ticked past he was surprised to see he’d managed to get to the end of the valley without even noticing. It didn’t take a brain surgeon for Jack to know he’d been distracted by a certain freckly nose. Or was it the wild spray of deep auburn curls? They certainly didn’t detract from anything. A collection of distinctively beautiful parts to make up one heck of a whole. Even with his eyes wide open he could picture those sexy feline green eyes that a certain school nurse had kept tilting up at him underneath a long set of lashes. Liesel was definitely on a par with just about any adorable-one-minute-and-knee-bucklingly-sexy-the-next movie star he could think of.
Meeting a beautiful woman had been the last thing on his mind when he’d received his transfer notice to move back to the Murray River Valley. Confronting his demons had his plate piled pretty high as it was.
He leaned his head back against the truck’s headrest, one arm navigating the vehicle along the wide country road dividing the vast tracts of vineyards. The cab briefly filled with a bark of laughter as Jack ruefully acknowledged he knew this road so well he could probably close his eyes and daydream all he wanted about Engleton’s new school nurse. As if on cue, his left hand automatically flicked on the indicator and his foot eased off the accelerator before he’d even looked to the right to acknowledge the arched gateway he’d been through thousands of times.
River’s Bend Winery.
His family’s legacy.
His father’s, more specifically. John Granville Keller, locally known as Granville due to his father before him having carried the same name.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, a clutch of tourists stepping out onto the veranda of the modern wine-tasting center. He’d seen the plans but had never seen the real thing. It looked good. Becca had done well.
As if thinking about her was strong enough to draw her to him, he saw a familiar blonde figure emerge from the group on the veranda. He slowed the truck to a stop, just remembering to slip the gear lever into Park before jumping out and giving his sister a good old-fashioned bear hug and swing round.
“Hey, there, stranger. I like the new threads! Fireman blue suits you.”
Good old Becca. He could count on her for not giving him a case of the guilts. That was his father’s specialty.
“You’re looking good, sis! And so’s your new tasting center.” They both turned to give it an appraising look. The sleek modern lines were beautifully crafted to fit in with the lush riverscape surrounding them. He couldn’t wait to have a good nosey round—and snag a chilled bottle of the unoaked chardonnay Becca had been bragging about in her emails.
“It beats that old shack you were so fond of.” He felt his sister give him a good solid jab in the ribs. He gave her a playful jostle in return before turning her to face him, serious this time.
“How are you? Really? Are you good?”
“Really good, Jack. Just missing you. Staying for tea?” She turned her hundred-watt smile on for him and he couldn’t resist pulling her into another deep hug.
“Not today.” She pulled back from the hug with a frown.
He tapped the brim of his CFS cap. “Duty calls!”
It might have been true—but it was an excuse he’d used all too often for the past few years. They’d spoken on the phone a lot, emails, texts—but the real thing was something he missed. Staying away from his family had been harder than he had thought—but if he was ever going to prove to his father that he could amount to something then complete focus was necessary.
Thank heavens Becca was such a star. She knew everything there was to know about River’s Bend—the crops, the land, their impressive output and, more important, she showed a business acumen that would’ve been as natural a match to the Australian Securities Exchange. He was proud to call her his kid sister, even though the ponytails and plaster-covered knees were a thing of the past.
“You