Something's Gotta Give (Tempered Steel Book 3)

SOMETHING’S GOTTA GIVE

A Tempered Steel Novel

Book Three

Maggie
Adams

CHAPTER ONE

Georgia sat on the hard wooden pew in the hospital’s tiny chapel, thankful to be alone. She clenched her hands and fervently prayed, “Please God, please don’t let him die. Chance needs to pull through. I need to know that I pulled him out of the fire in time to save him. I just couldn’t live with myself if I failed my job and lost my one true love all at the same time. So please let him recover and I promise to be a better person, I promise.”  

She appreciated the few moments by herself, since she was emotionally and physically exhausted, sitting on the bench, stiff and uncomfortable with trembling hands, she recalled that only a few hours ago she had been at home preparing for bed. Then suddenly the fire call came in. Georgia had grabbed her cell phone and keys from the stand by the door running as fast as she could, leaving the safety of her home.

As she neared the firehouse, her only thought had been the same as usual, she hoped no-one was hurt and wondered where the fire was. At that moment in time, all she wanted was to help and do her job well. At this very moment now, she sat in the quiet little chapel praying for her miracle, having no idea that the day’s chain of events would forever change her life.

She remembered her boss, Joe, throwing her gear at her, letting her know the address as she quickly dressed. “It’s the Coalson Construction barn totally in flames, possible victims inside.” She stopped dressing as terror swept through her.

“Now Georgia! Get going!” Joe barked
.
She gathered her things, working as if on autopilot, and jumped up on the truck with her crew. Within seconds they were on their way, sirens blaring as she mentally shook herself as she set her mind on the upcoming task at hand.

As they neared the site of the fire, acrid smoke burned her nostrils. She could see the smoke billowing in the sky and the faint orange glow on the horizon. The team pulled up and she worked on automatic, doing everything her training had taught her to do, but in the back of her mind was the horrid thought,
victims, possible victims
.

Joe barked instructions and she hastened to reply to his directive. Within a short time, it was obvious that the fire was almost out of control. The team sent in was radioing back that the walls were engulfed and the roof beginning to cave.

Ben Yates came panting up to Joe. “We got confirmation on victims-Sam Coalson, Jamie Harris, and Chance Coalson.”

Georgia’s gasp was loud enough to be heard by the two men. Joe turned her way. “Georgia, do your job. I’ll inform the front men.”

He ran to issue orders to the other firemen. Ben ran off to alert his force. Georgia was left alone. She looked at the fire consuming the building. The flames were licking at the windows. She hastened to move the hose to a better position.

A cheer rose up as her teammates came out, aiding two victims from the blaze. She raced over to them, but the EMT’s were there ahead of her. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized the men were Sam and Jamie. When Mac, the oldest Coalson brother, asked about Chance, Sam shook his head in the negative.

Her heart stopped.

Jamie’s words floated back to her. “He’s still in there. Chance and I heard a noise in the file room as we were getting ready to leave. He went to investigate. When he didn’t return, I went after him. As I walked into the file room, I saw Chance tied to a chair. The next thing I remember,
I
was in the closet and tied to a chair.”

He could still be alive
. Georgia glanced back at the inferno. It would be nearly impossible for him to find his way out unless he received help immediately. She knew the barn and the location of the file room having set up the smoke alarms when the building was renovated. She took off running for the firetruck and her gear. She threw on her mask, grabbed a tank and headed toward the flames.

Joe’s voice came crackling over the headphones in her helmet. “Georgia, goddammit! Get your ass back here. You never go alone. You know you never go alone.”

Suddenly she was bumped from behind, almost landing on her hands and knees. She was prevented from falling by a firm arm around her waist. She turned and saw a man with a wet handkerchief across his face, only his eyes peeking through-Mac Coalson. “Joe. I’m not alone. Mac Coalson’s in here with me. We’re getting him out.” Mac nodded her way and they headed deeper into the fiery inferno.

The chapel’s peace and quiet was abruptly ended when Georgia heard Chance’s mother in the hall.

“What in blue blazes is going on around here?” Ginny Coalson screeched as she neared Chance’s room. Georgia walked to the open door of the chapel and peeked around the corner. Sure enough, all the Coalsons were filing into Chance’s small room. She breathed a sigh of relief.
If the Coalson’s were allowed in, then he wasn’t that bad off.

She resumed her seat in the tiny chapel, peering at the stained glass windows that didn’t allow any light in because they weren’t really windows. They were just playing a part, just like her. “Never let the light in. Never let the love in. Never get hurt,” she whispered.

But sometimes there were cracks. Sometimes no matter how high you build the walls around your heart, no matter how strong you try to be, no matter how hard you try to keep others out, a certain person gets you. And it all just crumbles away, she surmised.

You’re left naked and vulnerable to hurt and despair.

Yes, she was a lot like the stained glass windows. Pretty enough to look at, but of no real value to anyone. Just…
there
. The tears fell as she realized how close she had come to losing the man she loved.

Not that he knew it.

No one knew, well, maybe Missy Dee. Gulping sobs racked her body as the tension, the pain, and the fear melted away. Chance was going to make it.

I’ve lived my life too cautiously, being too careful. No, lived is the wrong word, I have only existed in the past.

I just existed. I see happiness and love all around me, but I’m too afraid to reach out and grasp it. Missy Dee’s getting older and when she’s gone, I’m alone.

The tears continued to fall heedlessly down Georgia’s face as she looked into a future that seemed bleak and hopeless.
I thought it would be enough to be his friend, to see him happy, even with someone else. Someone who deserved him. Someone to hold him and love him and give him beautiful babies.

“I’ve tried, Lord, to get over this stupid obsession,” she whispered. “God knows I must be crazy. I’ve spent my life dreaming, fantasizing about what it would be like for Chance Coalson to turn to me in love. But I’m so afraid of losing that dream, I’ve given up even trying to make it come true.”

She swiped at her tears. “So I guess it serves me right, Lord, that I’m here instead of with him. Because you only fail if you don’t try, right?” She paused, half-hoping to hear an answer in return.

She looked back at the windows. “I guess I’m asking for the strength, Lord. Give me strength. The strength to either try for Chance or let go of this obsession,” she murmured. She leaned forward and rested her head on the back of the pew in front of her as she prayed for the right answer.

A while later, after his family had cleared out, Georgia slipped into Chance’s room. Tears threatened again when she saw him lying there, monitors beeping to evaluate his every life statistic. His eyes were closed, and his skin was pale, what little she could see through the many bandages covering him from his forehead down over his nose and cheeks His lips were cracked and swollen, glistening with the medication used to ease the pain and scarring.

Georgia was simply going to peek in to assure herself he was going to be okay. She couldn’t help herself, though. When Chance moved his head from side to side in obvious discomfort, she glided in and took his bandaged hand in hers.

He turned toward her and slowly opened his eyes. “Georgia.”

“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’ll always be right here.” Confident that he would remember very little of this, she leaned toward him and lightly kissed the top of his bandaged head, his cheeks. She settled into the chair near his bed, her head on the railing. Holding his hand through the bars, she slept.

Two weeks later, Chance sat on the front porch swing of Miss Peaches Daycare, drinking the lemonade Delilah Markham, affectionately known as Missy Dee, had provided. He felt grateful to be alive on this beautiful day. His unruly black hair had ben cropped to within an inch, thanks to the fire, and he would bear a few scars where the flames had licked at his body, but all in all, he was lucky to be alive. And he knew just who he owed his life to.

His eyes skimmed the front and side yard for any sign of Georgia. He had to admit, she had set up her little daycare with a child’s eye. Her long driveway wound in a circle at the front porch so parents could easily transfer children in bad weather. The detached garage sat to the left just a bit forward from the house. The back of the garage boasted a basketball hoop and concrete blocks led halfway up the side, an easy way for kids to practice pitching or bounce and catch. A small hill ran down between the small white house with country blue shutters complete with gingerbread accents, and the garage, perfect for rolling down on a bike or trike.

The hill gave way to a small plateau complete with an old oak tree and board swing, and what looked to be a gardening shed turned into a hideaway. Further out, the old apple tree stood amidst the flat field that had once held cows. Now, it provided the kids with a lesson in agriculture, namely, how to grow a vegetable garden. A flower bed border around the tree base and the garden provided the house with fresh flowers.

If he was a young kid again, this would be daycare heaven. He turned back to Missy Dee and complimented her on the wonderful job she and Georgia had done on the daycare.

Missy Dee looked him over with a critical eye, then sat back, apparently satisfied with what she saw. “You healing good?” she asked in her no nonsense manner.

Missy Dee was Georgia’s assistant at her daycare center. Chance knew she once ran the foster care home where Georgia had lived after her mother had passed. When Missy Dee had retired from foster care, she and Georgia had turned the house into a daycare. Seventy, if she was a day, and as wide as she was tall, with wiry gray hair she kept in a tight bun, and brown leathered skin from years outside, Missy Dee ruled the children, and Georgia, too, for that matter, with a firm, but affectionate, hand. He was wise enough to know if she disapproved of him, he’d have little likelihood with Georgia’s affection. And he was determined to win Georgia’s affection. As he had told his friend, Angel, when she had visited him in the hospital, he wanted a whole lot more of Georgia Haines.

On the other hand, if he could get Missy Dee in his corner, he figured half the battle was won. He didn’t know the exact moment when his affection for the tomboy had turned to love, but it had. He was no longer content to be simply friends. He wanted her more than any woman before her. He understood she wasn’t into casual sex. There was nothing casual about the way he felt about her. He intended for her to know it as well. He could charm the women from 8 to 80, and he planned to use every bit of those skills to win Miss Georgia Haines.

It was time to put his plan into motion.

He tried to use the abundant supply of charm God had graced him with, confident he could soften the heart of Missy Dee. He gave her a crooked grin and with devilish eyes, told her she was looking as fine as the bone china in the governor’s mansion.

She laughed at him.

“You save that sweet talk for my Peaches,” she said, her wrinkled leather skin breaking into a grin.

“And just who is Peaches?” Chance asked just to get a rise out of the old woman.

“Why, it’s Georgia, boy!” she slapped him with a gnarled hand. “As if you didn’t know!”

“Now why ‘Peaches’, Missy Dee?” he continued with a smile, although he knew perfectly well.

Missy Dee winked at him. “She saved your bottom in that construction fire, son, but did you hit your head? Just look at her!” She motioned at the far end of the field.

“Oh, I’m looking, Missy Dee. I’m looking,” Chance winked back at her.

“Oh, I know all about your lookin’, young man.” She skimmed her eyes over him. “You come from good stock. I know your family, good people.” She glared at him over the rim of her bifocals. “And I know about your reputation, too, such as it is.”

Chance held his hands up. “Now, Missy Dee, you know you can’t believe half of what you hear.”

“Honey, if you’ve done half of what I’ve heard, you’d be dead by now,” she stated with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m just saying, if you’re looking for something other than permanent, you can get off this porch right now, before I take a broom to your backside. My Peaches don’t need no heartache. She’s had enough of that in her young life already. What she needs is forever.”

Chance decided it was time to lay his cards on the table. “I just want to make her happy, Missy Dee.”

She continued to eye him in silence. Chance squirmed. He felt like he was eight years old, getting caught kissing a girl. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she leaned back with a satisfied smile, “If you’re wanting forever, well, I believe you might be exactly what my sweet Peaches needs. She deserves some babies of her own to play with, and a handsome husband to fall all over himself cherishing her.” Missy Dee slapped the arms of the rocker. “Yes, indeed, I think you’re just what she needs.”