Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Her Holiday Family\Sugar Plum Season\Her Cowboy Hero\Small-Town Fireman (60 page)

Karla looked as if that solved everything. “That's Bastille Day.”

Befuddled expressions met her pronouncement. “What's that got to do with the firehouse?”

“Well, nothing directly,” she replied, “but it does hand you an easy way to have a unique kind of celebration.”

Dylan had spent enough summers in Chicago to see where she was headed with this. “The Venetian Night boat parade.” It wasn't a bad idea at all.

“What?” Violet's smile was curious but a mile wide.

“Every July Chicago celebrates the weekend around Bastille Day with a boat parade,” Karla answered to the entire room. “People decorate their boats with lights and streamers and all kinds of things, and then they have a sort of parade out on the water at night. It's beautiful.”

“We've never done anything like that before here,” Principal Thomas said. “It'd be an easy way to get all kinds of people from the community involved. Even the students.”

“It's barely a month away—can we get it done in time?” Chief Bradens wondered aloud.

“I don't see why not. We could let each boat pick a decade from the one hundred and fifty years the firehouse has been in existence,” Mayor Boston suggested as he looked up from taking furious notes.

“Or just let them use the color red. Or firemen in general. There are loads of ways to do this.” Karla's entire expression had changed from suspicious boredom to genuine excitement. Until, that is, the moment when Mayor Boston turned to her with an authoritative gleam in his eye.

Oh, no
. He knew that gleam. Chief Bradens had that gleam, too, and it only meant one thing. Poor Karla—she didn't know what she'd just done, did she? Her next month was a goner—if she was even planning to stay that long.

“Miss Kennedy, I think you've hit on a grand idea,” the mayor said. “I think Gordon Falls will be in your debt after you've chaired such a marvelous celebration. And to think our young people will be the ones to spearhead this effort. It's a most exciting thing.”

Dylan watched in sympathy as the shock registered on Karla's face. “But wait...I...”

“Of course she'll chair the thing,” Karl piped up before Karla could even finish her objection. “But hang on—we can't expect her to do all this by herself.”

“No one's asking her to,” Violet replied. Dylan's gut dropped to the floor when Violet turned her sweetest gaze to him and said, “Ted said
young
people.
”

Mayor Boston turned his head slowly to look straight at Dylan. “I most certainly did.”

“You don't...” Dylan sputtered, feeling inevitability rise up and swallow him like a high tide. “I mean...” He felt the next four weeks slip through his fingers as though Violet had personally yanked them from his grasp.

“I'll gladly free up Dylan's time so he can chair the event. It's a great idea.” The chief had the good sense to look pleased that he'd just dodged the chairmanship himself.

Before another ten minutes went by, subcommittees for decorations, food and publicity had been formed, and Dylan found himself approving a weekly Thursday meeting for the next month. His peaceful, autonomous life had just evaporated right before his very eyes. He was supposed to be building a business, not running a parade. Surely he and Karla could find some way to get themselves out of this before it went any further. Because even if it was June, this was Gordon Falls—and this town was very good at letting things snowball out of control.

Chapter Five

K
arla marched up to Dylan's truck while Grandpa slowly wheeled his walker out to the parking lot. Behind her he could hear the old man boasting about his “smart girl” to Pastor Allen. “What just happened in there?”

“We've been ambushed.” Dylan shook his head. “This whole thing took me by surprise.” He bent toward her and whispered, “Do you think they had that planned all along?”

Karla looked over at Violet, who was beaming at her grandfather. “I can't believe it, but I think they did. You and I seemed to be the only two in the room who didn't see this coming.”

“Not exactly fair to you.” She couldn't know what an uncontrollable beast a Gordon Falls committee could become. This bordered on entrapment.

“Not exactly fair to either of us.” Karla ran a hand through her shiny dark hair. “And I walked right into it with my bright idea, didn't I? I'm sorry I ever opened my big mouth.”

Dylan leaned up against the words
Gordon River Fishing Charters
painted on the side of his truck. He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Don't knock it... It is actually a good idea. But I'm with Ted—no one needs another potluck banquet around here.” He shrugged. “Ambushed or not, it is a much better plan than anything they would have come up with. I do like it.”

Karla leaned up against the truck beside him. “Enough for us to chair it?” She looked as if she might actually go through with it, but she was smart enough to realize this wouldn't just be a simple, fun, as-long-as-I'm-stuck-in-town-I-might-as-well-do-something project, didn't she?

He couldn't leave her high and dry. If she was going to stick with it, the least he could do was go along with it until they could figure out another plan. “Well, I certainly can't endorse the tactics.”

“No, that was sneaky. I'm going to have to have a talk with Grandpa and Vi. But it wouldn't be so awful. There'd be just enough time to pull it off.”

He'd walked into this parking lot determined to get her help to ditch this chairmanship. Now he was agreeing to stick with it? What happened to the whole “Captain of my own destiny” thing? It was like some other, vastly more foolish man had taken over his vocal cords as he looked into those pretty blue eyes and heard himself say, “I suppose I could see my way clear.”

“At least it will give me something to do in this town. No offense, but I'm getting pretty bored around here.”

That just showed how little she knew about what it was like to live in Gordon Falls. Sure, it seemed charming and rustic to a visitor. He'd come here himself to simplify his life. It was only lately that he'd come to realize how complicated it had become instead. And now this. He managed a dark laugh—at himself, mostly—as he checked his watch. “At the very least we can keep the meetings from becoming three hour gabfests. That thing went on way too long for me.” He looked up pensively at the night sky. “I should probably mention my bone-deep revulsion of meetings.”

“No kidding.” Karla laughed in reply. “It showed all over your face.”

He winced. “That obvious?”

“Let's just say that if anyone had any doubts whether or not you came into this voluntarily, I think you put them to rest.”

Dylan winced. “I really hate meetings.”

“Well, you'd better tell Vi.” Karla looked over at the older folk who were still grouped in animated conversation. “I'm surprised she's not taking a victory lap around the parking lot.”

“With your grandfather,” Dylan added. “He was having a lot of fun, too. Those two are up to something.”

Karla sighed. “Actually, I think he's just glad to be out of the house for anything.”

“That doesn't mean you have to chair a town-wide, last-minute boat parade.” He wanted to give her one last chance to get out of this right now.

She shrugged. “Oh, I don't know. On the one hand I could throttle him for dragging me into this. Then again, I haven't seen Grandpa this happy in a while. He needs something to do and to take his mind off that hip, and I don't think he can do this without my help.”

Dylan shifted to face her. “Gordon Falls is full of people who could step up to the plate to help Karl. People who live here, who owe something to the community. I'll stand up for you if you want to bail. I don't think it's really fair what they did to you.”

“Oh, and leave all this on your shoulders? How fair would that be?”

Dylan looked over her head. The older folk were now sitting and talking on a bench beside the church parking lot as if they had all the time in the world. He had three more charter contracts to mail tonight and a stack of maintenance bills to pay. “What if we take the reins for a little while, do most of the heavy lifting to get it set up, then come up with some reason to hand it off to Karl and Vi. You heard how many ideas they had—I think they really want to do it themselves and we're just stand-ins.”

It seemed like the best solution for everyone. The prospect of working with Karla for a little while wasn't exactly an unpleasant one. And if they were planning an exit strategy all along, it would make it easier to spend time with her because neither of them would be assuming things that weren't going to happen.

“We could work it so they don't know,” Karla said. “Set it up so it looks like they're stepping in to save the day. Vi and Karl will look like heroes.” She leaned back against the truck as she gazed over at her grandfather. “Look at his face. Grandpa needs a little time in the limelight, don't you think?”

Dylan realized he'd never asked. “Karl does know you're going back to Chicago, doesn't he?”

Her silence was telling. “I've told him, but I think he's choosing not to hear it.”

“Then won't you doing this just make it worse?”

“Actually, I think it will be an improvement. If we do this right, it'll be a much nicer finish line than ‘whenever Grandpa feels better.' I'll spend the next three weeks setting up Gordon Falls' perfect summer event, time it so that something calls me back to Chicago by the beginning of July, and then let a rehabbed Grandpa swoop in and bask in the glory. I could even slip back into town just for that weekend and watch all our plans bloom into Grandpa's victory lap.”

It felt convoluted and a bit over the top. Only, it also made a complicated, twisted sort of sense. At least he had an exit strategy they both agreed on, and no one could argue Karl and Violet didn't deserve their chance to look like heroes. He and Karla were just making that happen in a roundabout kind of way.

“Okay—” Dylan extended a hand “—We have a deal.”

She took it and gave it an exaggerated shake. “Captain, indeed we do.”

“By the way, Cocaptain,” Dylan called as she headed for her car, “we're still fishing tomorrow morning.”

“I can hardly wait.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

“Think of it as our first executive planning session. Bring lots of coffee.”

“Super strong and lots of it,” she replied. “Five-thirty? Really?”

“Really.”

“I don't know why I'm saying yes to this.”

Dylan knew exactly how she felt.

* * *

Fatigue pushed down Karla's shoulders as she climbed the steps to her little apartment above the coffee shop. It was homey in a Gordon Falls kind of way, but it lacked the panache of her city loft. Dad and Grandpa had covered the loft's rent while she was here helping out, so she could look at this extended stay as a “family-rescue working vacation,” at best, and a chance to work at something close to her chosen profession, at the very least.

Tonight she'd inadvertently turned it into something else besides.
What made me suggest that event?
she asked herself as she turned the big, old-fashioned key in its pretty lock.
What have I gotten myself into now?
It wasn't as if there was much else to do in Gordon Falls when she wasn't at Karl's. It was pretty, but also pretty quiet. Downright boring, some nights. Sitting in Grandpa's living room watching loud television with Mom and Dad wasn't her brand of entertainment. At least the anniversary thing would give her something to occupy her time. She'd always had a knack for events, and her cochair wasn't so hard on the eyes, either.

Her cell phone rang just as she put down her bag. “Did you check your email yet?” Her Chicago roommate and fellow culinary school graduate Brenda Billings—or “Bebe” as almost everyone knew her—sounded incredibly excited. The pair had endured no end of “BB and KK's apartment” jokes since they moved in together at the start of their final year.

“No. You won't believe where I've been.” Karla put Bebe on speaker and began scrolling down through her smartphone to see what email might have gotten her roommate all riled up.

“At a barn raising?”

“Very funny. No, at a committee meeting. Guess who's the new cochair of the firehouse anniversary committee?” She found an email from her favorite teacher at the school with an “Are you interested in this?” headline, noticing Bebe was also on the recipients list with a handful of other students. She tapped it to open up the email. “The message from Chef Daniel?”

“That's the one. So your grandpa's recuperating by running some charity shindig, huh? Sucked you into it, as well?”

Karla began reading. “You could say that...” The content of the email stopped her short. “Whoa...Bebe, is this for real? I thought Daniel said they weren't doing this at the Clifton anymore.” The Clifton internship had been one of the best opportunities the school had to offer its graduates. In the past, the very posh Chicago hotel had taken a handful of culinary graduates on to the staff for year-long paid apprenticeships, but Chef Daniel had told the class the Clifton had stopped the program as of this year.

“It's down lower in the email. Evidently they changed their minds. We're
recommended
, Karla. I got the pastry spot in the kitchen and you got the spot at Perk.” Perk was the Clifton's on-site coffee bar, and about as upscale as caffeine came in downtown Chicago.

“Wow. I mean really wow. A year getting paid to learn how Perk works before I open my own place? I can't believe it!”

“I know. I know!” Bebe nearly squealed. “I've been sitting here waiting for you to call and I couldn't stand it anymore so I called you.
The Clifton
, Karla. One month from today we'll be working there. I looked it up online. They have properties in Hawaii, Monaco, and Fiji.” Bebe wanted to bake all over the world—well, mostly all the warm and pretty spots after enduring Chicago's harsh winters.

Karla opened her laptop to peruse the long email on a larger screen. Sure enough, the second paragraph from the bottom posted the position starting date as Monday, July 16. With a smirk, she cast her glance heavenward.
Cutting it a little close here, aren't we Lord? Still, thanks. This is a huge blessing
.

“Karla...”

“Sorry, I was just reading the whole email. I can't believe the Clifton program is back on and we're in.”

“Reply right now. I mean it. Email Chef Daniel and tell him you're in. He knows you're out of town but you don't want him to give this gem to someone else.”

She'd have to miss the firehouse event. Or leave right after the Sunday service that was supposed to end the ceremonial weekend. Or— She could figure that out later, for crying out loud. God had just handed her the perfect launch into her new life—the details could sort themselves out later.

“I'm going to hang up and reply right now. I'll read this over more carefully, too. I'm glad you called—I've got an early morning and I might have left my email until tomorrow if you hadn't tipped me off.”

Bebe laughed. “Okay, you can tell me all about the town festi-whatever after you say yes to Daniel. Got the opening shift at your grandfather's tomorrow morning?”

Karla looked at her watch, declaring five-thirty way too early for someone likely to now lie awake all night pondering her future in exclusive coffee service. “Um...something like that. Hey, congratulations. We made it to the big time, huh?”

Karla could hear Bebe's wide smile in the tone of her words. “As big as it gets, Karla. We are on our way.”