Safe in the Fireman's Arms Read Online Free PDF Page B

marched out of the dressing room, her sneakers dangling from her fingers.
    He tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and leaned back on the heels of his boots, watching her. “I’m here because I was across the street when I saw you go into your cousin’s shop. I need your phone number.”
    She shoved her feet into her sneakers and glanced across the street to the neatly painted gray building with gleaming windows. The perimeter of the property was surrounded by trimmed bushes and several black benches. A black awning announced it was a hardware store.
    Maggie eyed Jake with renewed interest. “Nice store,” she said as she leaned over to tie the laces on her high-tops.
    “It is.”
    “I don’t remember that building being there when I was a kid.”
    “Brand-new. Opened up about five years ago.”
    Silence stretched as Maggie again stared across the street.
    “Your number?”
    “Hmm?” She turned back to Jake. “I gave you my number the other day.”
    “That was for the report. I didn’t actually save it. That would be a tad bit unethical.” He handed her his cell.
    “You need my number, why?”
    “In case, oh, say I’m running late on Saturday due to a fire. Or I get lost.”
    Maggie narrowed her eyes and took the phone. She punched in her digits, casually, as though she gave men her number all the time.
    “Well, well. Look who’s here,” Susan purred. “Can I interest you in anything, Chief MacLaughlin?”
    “I’m good for now.” He winked at Maggie as she handed him back his cell, then he did a neat about-face and headed out of the shop.
    “What was that all about?” Susan asked.
    “He needed my number for the...the Founder’s Day thing.”
    Susan looked at his retreating form and then back to Maggie. “You have an appointment at eleven Thursday for your hair. I thought we could do lunch while we’re out.”
    “Susan, I can’t just leave the shop in the middle of the day. On a Thursday, no less. One of the busiest days of the week.”
    “Of course you can. Mother told me Beck Hollander is back from vacation. He’ll cover for you.”
    “Beck who?”
    “Didn’t Daddy tell you? Beck works part-time a few days a week. He’s going to be a senior this year. Kind of a strange nerdy kid, but real smart, too. He’s been helping Daddy for a few years now.”
    “I’m sure Beck and I will get along just fine. I speak fluent nerd.” Maggie’s gaze drifted across the street to the hardware store. “Um, Susan, I have to run.”
    “What about the dress? It needs to be hemmed.”
    “Can we do that later? Maybe tonight?”
    “Sure. I’m taking mom to Four Forks in about thirty minutes.”
    “Four Forks?”
    “Little town, north of us. They have a yarn shop she likes to visit.”
    “Got it.”
    “I’ll call you when we get back. We’ll need to talk makeup and accessories, too.”
    “Makeup and accessories.” She sighed, resigned. “Okay. Whatever.”
    Leaving the shop Maggie hurried crossed the street and pulled open the expansive glass doors of the hardware store. A heady excitement raced through her. She breathed deeply, and forced herself to relax. Now she was in her element. No need to rush the pleasure. Her steps slowed as she moved with purpose down the aisles, getting the lay of the land.
    Birdseed and birdhouses. Nuts and bolts. Shiny tools. Pails and buckets. Even pots and pans. Oh, wow, there was even stick candy. Sassafras, horehound and peppermint.
    Oh, this was a real, old-fashioned hardware store.
    Her pulse quickened.
    What clothing stores did for women like Susan, and bookstores did for her parents, well, that was what hardware stores did for Maggie. It was like coming home.
    “Can I help you?”
    Jake? Maggie’s head jerked as she turned around. “What are you doing here?”
    He glanced around curiously. “Why shouldn’t I be here?”
    Over an intercom a voice boomed. “Chief, you have a phone call.”
    “You work here?” She arched a brow.
    “I