Chapter Eight
Three days later, Ransom was back on shift. Jane told herself she was not going over to the station house. She could manage a couple of days without seeing him. She could.
Except…she knew she couldn’t, and she didn’t want to. Ransom Raines had become important to her—as important and as loved as her dear Aunt Millie. She was pretty sure he felt the same way about her, so why fight it?
Yet at the same time, she felt a little…discombobulated. As if she were watching all this happen to someone else, so it a little surreal to her.
Yet at times it was all too real, and that was when it got scary. Too scary to think about, so she did her best not to. Taking her Aunt Millie’s advice, she’d grabbed hold and was enjoying the ride.
Just before lunch, she went out onto the front porch where her aunt sat in a wicker rocker. Jane dropped down onto a matching chair, putting one sandaled foot on the seat and hugging her bent leg to her chest. Then with the foot on the floor she set the chair to rocking.
“What’s wrong, my darling?” Aunt Millie asked.
“Oh, nothing.” Jane rocked a while. Finally, she blew out a sigh and said, “I miss Ransom.”
“Oh, darling girl,” Millie murmured. “Of course you miss him. You and he have been spending a lot of time together. It’s only natural for you to pine for him.”
“I suppose.” She sighed again and glanced at her aunt with a grimace. “Nothing’s quite so pathetic as a forty-year-old woman acting like a teenager, huh?”
“Being in love is never pathetic. Never!”
Jane moved her gaze to the flowering hydrangeas lining the front of the wide porch. “But don’t you think I should be…I don’t know. More chill about it? I’m not a young woman anymore.” She bit the inside of her cheek and looked at Millie again.
“You’re not exactly ancient, either,” her aunt told her in a dry voice. She leaned over and placed a knobby-knuckled hand on Jane’s knee. “Your mama did a job on you with all her marriages, didn’t she?”
“You know what people were saying about her there at the end, marrying a man who was younger than me. What was she thinking?”
Millie’s eyes grew sad. “She was in love, Jane. Age didn’t matter to her. Frankly, I don’t think she ever noticed if a man was younger or older.”
Jane grunted. “She had to, because she never married a man older than her, or even her own age. My own father was three years younger.”
“What a cradle-robber!”
“Aunt Millie.” Jane sighed and leaned her head back against the cushion of her chair.
“When you’re in love,” her aunt said in a soft voice, giving Jane’s knee a squeeze before sitting back in her own chair, “age doesn’t matter. Race doesn’t matter. Religion doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except that love. And, let me tell you something you apparently haven’t figured out yet. There is absolutely nothing chill about love. And if you are chill about it, then it’s not love, regardless of your age.”
Jane heard what her aunt was saying. So maybe the Champion ladies gravitated toward younger men. They could be interested in worse things.
“Love is giddy excitement,” Millie went on. “It’s bubbles roiling and bursting in your veins. It’s your stomach tied up in knots.” She leaned sideways and picked up her ever-present glass of iced tea. “It’s breathless anticipation of feeling him so deep, you can’t see straight afterwards.”
“Aunt Millie!”
“Do I lie?” The old lady lifted an exquisitely tattooed brow.
Jane pressed her lips together against a smile but finally had to admit, “No. You’re right.” She grinned, loving the way her elderly aunt’s face crinkled with her own wide grin. Somehow, even though the wrinkles should have made her look her age at the very least, somehow, they made her look younger. Or maybe it was the mischievous twinkle in her faded blue eyes.
“Like I been telling you, you hold on and enjoy the ride, Janie-girl. You might get lucky enough that it lasts the rest of your life.”
Just then, a black-and-white mutt came tail wagging around the hydrangeas and up onto the porch. He went straight to Jane.
“Frankie!” She put her foot down and bent forward, scrubbing his face in her hands. “Naughty boy. You’re not supposed to be here.”
He plunked his behind down onto the porch and panted, giving her a doggie grin.
“He looks thirsty,” Millie observed. “Should get him some water.”
“I should get him some water back at the fire station,” she muttered. “But I’ll water you now, you scamp, and get the leash while I’m inside.” She fetched the requisite items and clipped the leash to Frankie’s collar while he lapped cool, fresh water. When he sat down, tongue lolling and tail thumping on the wood of the porch floor, she had to laugh. “Oh, who could be mad at this face?” she asked, giving his whiskers a light tug.
He licked her hand and wagged his tail harder.
“Well, the little rascal has perfect timing,” Millie said. “You take him back, you’ll be just in time to join Ransom and the boys for lunch.”
“Why don’t you come with me?” Jane knew the firefighters all got a kick out of her elderly aunt. “You can have lunch with Deke.”
Millie smiled and set her tea down, then hauled herself out of the chair. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Jane held out her free arm, letting her aunt catch hold of it, then they went down the porch steps. As they turned right to head toward Station 58, Jane commanded, “Frankie, heel.”
The dog obediently dropped back to walk at her side, his head tilted slightly so he could watch her for additional commands.
“I think someone’s trained him,” Millie commented.
“Yeah, that’s what we thought when we worked with him to see if he’d be suitable for an adoption event.” Jane looked down at him. “Who’s a good boy?” she asked, and he butt-wiggled his response.
“What a doofy dog,” her aunt muttered.
She laughed, hugging Millie’s arm to her side. “You’re not doofy, are you, Frankie? No, you’re not.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Millie lifted a hand to wave to one of their neighbors as the two women and dog traipsed through their front yard.
“Maybe we should use the sidewalk.” Jane waved, too, then looked down at her aunt.
“Nobody ’round here uses the sidewalk. Especially if they’re takin’ the stationhouse dog back to the stationhouse.”
They reached the edge of the wide driveway of the fire station. An emergency medical services vehicle was out front being washed by Alec McIntyre, one of the paramedics. He saw them and lifted his chin in greeting. “Ladies.”
“Hey, Alec.” Jane lifted the leash a little. “I’m bringing back y’all’s dog.”
He grinned. “You know the rule. Take him to Ransom. He’s in there,” he added with a jerk of his head toward the open bay.
She and Millie walked the dog in between a hook and ladder truck and the other EMS unit. As they approached the rear of the bay, she heard Deke say, “You’re the man, Raines. Datin’ a cougar. Rowr!”
Jane skidded to a halt, dragging Millie to a stop as well. Frankie, obedient for once, plopped his shaggy behind on the floor. Jane glanced at her aunt, and when she saw the way Millie’s eyebrows were dipped low over her eyes, she knew she had a willing eavesdropping companion.
She stood there, pulse pounding in her throat, almost choking her. This. This had been her fear about dating a younger man. That they’d be held in contempt by the people who knew them. She didn’t want that for Ransom.
“Shut up, Deke.” Ransom’s deep voice held a note of aggravation.
“No, man, I think it’s great. Jane’s terrific, and you two look good together. Mark’s got a couple of the other guys riled up about it, but that doesn’t matter. Consider the source, right?”
“Who I date, and how old she is, is none of their business,” Ransom bit out. “I can’t believe you feel this way. What the fuck does it matter that she’s older than me? It’s only seven years.”
Jane’s eyebrows shot up. He sounded angry. Angrier than she’d ever heard him. She was glad that anger wasn’t directed at her.
“Hey, I got no problem with it. I think Jane’s a sweetheart, and she’s good for you. Personally, I wouldn’t care if she were twenty years older than you. But some of the other guys don’t feel the same way. I’ve been tellin’ ’em to knock it off before you hear it, but you know Mark. He’s got a bee up his ass because you brought it home with Jane when he couldn’t even get to first base with ’er.”
“Goddammit. Is that what he’s saying?”
Ransom sounded like he was getting madder and madder as the conversation went on.
Deke scoffed. “You think he’d come right out and admit it? That’s what I’m telling you is behind this. He’s a bug-fucking sonuvabitch, you know that.”
There was silence a moment, then Ransom asked in a low, hard voice, “And exactly who are you saying it to?”
“To you, man. Only to you.” Deke gave a grunt. “Dude, I’m not a nancy like some of these other ladies around here. I got better things to do with my time than sit around and gossip like a bunch of ol’ gray-haired biddies.”
“Well, all I can say is you’d better not let Jane hear you calling the guys ladies, because she’ll rip you a new one. Or ask you two very simple questions.”
When he didn’t go on, Deke prodded, “What questions?”
“Why do you think it’s bad to be a woman, and why do you automatically presume that if you’re a woman you gossip?”
“Uh…” Something rattled, then paper rustled and Deke said, “Well, maybe it’s best we don’t let her know I said that.”
“Or Millie, either,” Ransom said. “She’ll cut you off at the knees, she knows you’ve been dissin’ old ladies.”
“Oh, Christ. Yeah, let’s not let Millie know, either.”
There was a pause, and Millie poked Jane in the side. When Jane looked at her, the old lady jerked her head toward the sound of the voices. “Go on,” she whispered, making big eyes at Jane. “Before we get caught listenin’ in like a coupla gossipy old biddies.”
Before Jane could move, Ransom said, “Speaking of age differences… You and Millie? Is that a thing?”
“Are you askin’ me if I’m banging an octogenarian?”
“Well, not in those words exactly, but, yeah.”
“And this is your business how?” Deke’s voice didn’t seem to hold irritation. Rather, he seemed to be making a correlation to Ransom’s frustration over his friends sticking their noses into his and Jane’s relationship.
“You’re my best friend, man, and Millie is Jane’s beloved aunt. I don’t want to see either of you hurt. We’re not talking about a twenty-year age difference after all. Between you two it’s over fifty.”
More silence, then Deke said, “She likes being squired around on the arm of a brawny young man—her words, not mine—and she’s the funniest old broad I’ve ever known. We have a good time together, but we’re just friends.”
Something rattled again and Ransom said, “I’d work around to accepting it if it turns into something else, you know that, right? I love Millie as if she were my own favorite aunt.”
The favorite aunt in question elbowed Jane in the ribs again. Jane nodded and gently tugged on the leash. Frankie immediately popped to his feet. She walked him around the front of the vehicle, calling out “Ransom?” and followed the sound of the men’s voices to the open common area inside the station. “Hey,” she said as soon as she saw them. Ransom stood just inside the kitchen, dishrag in one hand and a large skillet in the other, while Deke sat at one of the tables in the dining section.
She let go of Frankie, and he ran straight to Ransom, who went down on one knee. “Hey, buddy.” He scrubbed his hands down the dog’s sides then straightened. He picked up the end of the dog’s leash and grinned at Jane. “He was just here, looking hopeful about getting handouts while I cooked dinner, then I turned around and he was gone.”
“Probably reckoned Jane was a softer touch,” Deke said. He’d stood when they’d entered the room, and now he walked over to them. “Jane,” he said by way of greeting, then turned his thousand-watt smile on Millie. “Aunt Millie, me darlin’, when are ya goin’ ta run away wi’ me?” he asked in a poor imitation of an Irish brogue. He held out one broad hand.
Millie curled her fingers around his, her small hand looking tiny and fragile in his big paw. “Whenever you say, sweetheart.”
He grinned and curled her hand over the crook of his elbow. “For now, why don’t you keep me company over here? We’ll watch the game.”
“Okay,” she said agreeably. “What game?” She walked into the large living area that was across from the dining room and sat down on one of the leather sofas.
Deke shrugged, never losing his grin. “We’ll find one.”
Jane tore her attention away from them and put it back on Ransom. They dealt honestly with each other, she and he, and she had to tell him what she’d overheard. “The guys are giving you a hard time about being with me,” she said in a quiet voice.
* * *
Ransom set the skillet down and dropped the dishrag on top of it. He unhooked Frankie’s leash and told him, “Behave.” The dog wagged his tail and headed back toward the bunk rooms.
Drawing Jane into his arms, Ransom linked his fingers at the small of her back and looked down into her face. “Not yet they’re not,” he told her. “But I guess Bachelier’s gearing up for it. And he has a couple of friends that’ll probably take his back.”
“Against you?”
He shrugged. “I’ve only been here a year, so I’m still the new guy. Will be until someone newer comes along. Some of the guys are gonna rib me because that’s just what you do to a newbie. Bachelier will do it because he’s an asshole who still has the hots for you and knows he’ll never have you.”
A soft blush pinkened her cheeks. Her gaze dropped to the hands she rested palm-flat against his chest. “Still, I don’t want there to be trouble between you and your friends. You need to trust each other, and if you’re fighting…” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Maybe we should just—”
“Now, you hold it right there a minute,” he interrupted. His heart started up a dull rat-a-tat against his ribs. “If you’re about to say what I think you are, forget it. My friends will be happy for me. Anyone else can go fuck themselves. They don’t have any say over who I date.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “But, Ransom, what if there’s a fire, and one of the guys is mad at you. He could hesitate if you need help. Couldn’t he?” She took a step back. “I couldn’t live with it, that someone who’s supposed to be there for you isn’t because of how he feels about us.”
He pulled her close again. “Baby, the guys are all more professional than that. You hear?”
“But—”
“You hear?” He gave her a little jiggle with his arms still around her. “If they weren’t, every time someone wins at poker, he’d be in trouble.”
She grimaced. “It’s not the same thing and you know it.”
“It is.” He lifted one hand and cupped her skull, twining his fingers through her silky hair. “This is one thing you don’t have to worry about.” He knew that deep in his gut. “If these guys would go into a burning building to save the life of someone they don’t even know, do you really think they’d let one of their own fall?”
“Well, when you put it like that…” She let her head rest against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She knew Ransom was aware she worried about him. She’d never overtly said anything before today, but the few times a call had come in when she’d been around, he’d seen the worry she couldn’t quite hide. So they’d fallen into a rhythm where he’d be sure to call her once he got back to the station house, no matter how late it was. And most of the time, after the first few times, he woke her up, and the fact she’d been able to sleep meant she was learning to deal with the anxiety his job caused her.
That’s why Bachelier stirring up trouble was especially aggravating. Jane didn’t need more shit to deal with. If the other man kept it up, Ransom might just have to do some talking with his fists, since doing it with his mouth wasn’t getting the job done. He was reluctant to do it, though, because it could lose him his job. But better his job than this woman he was falling ass over elbow in love with.