for a long, smoldering moment time hung suspended. Nic thought he might lower his head and kiss her.
Instead he abruptly released her wrist as if it were the hot roasting-pan handle and quickly backed away.
In that moment he reminded her of a cornered animal desperately searching for escape, and the healer in her responded. This man was hurt, damaged in some fundamental way. She saw it not in those scars upon his body but in the haunted expression in his eyes.
She wanted to make him well again. If he had four legs instead of two, she’d know exactly what to do, but humans weren’t her specialty, and despite his appeal, she felt out of her league where Gabe Callahan was concerned.
Gruffly he asked, “Can I, um, carry something to the table?”
“Sure. Thank you. The breadbasket is there by the coffee maker. I’ll join you in just a few minutes.”
He grabbed the basket in full retreat and kept his distance until Nic invited him to pour the wine as she served the meal. Once they were both seated, she attempted to dispel the lingering tension by lifting her glass in a toast. “To scintillating small talk, Mr. Callahan.”
After a brief pause, Gabe gave a half smile, touched his glass to hers, and said in a droll tone of voice, “Lovely weather we’re having, Dr. Sullivan.”
The exchange set the tone for the meal. His interest in her library led to a discussion about reading preferences and she learned they shared an affinity for popular fiction. They both enjoyed thrillers, though he expressed disdain for spy novels and she didn’t care for graphic violence. They debated favorite authors for a time, then conversation moved to the meal. He paid flattering homage to her cooking skills, both verbally and by taking second helpings. She considered it a minor victory when he asked her a question that she felt went beyond “small talk.”
Nic lifted her wineglass and swirled the ruby liquid as she contemplated her answer. “I chose to return to Eternity Springs because I have a thing for ruby slippers.”
He made the Wizard of Oz connection easily. “There’s no place like home, Dorothy?”
“Exactly. I can live other places, be happy other places. I certainly would be better off financially if I worked somewhere else. But I don’t think I’d thrive anywhere but here. It sounds corny, I know, but I believe that this is where I am meant to be.” She sipped her wine and took a risk. “How about you, Gabe Callahan? Where is home for you?”
Slowly, he set down his fork. He lifted his napkin from his lap and wiped his mouth. “The meal was excellent, Nic. I’ve never tasted venison as delicious as this.”
Okay. Great big No Trespassing sign in that window. She considered calling him on it but decided she didn’t want to spoil what had ended up being a lovely evening. “Thank you. Would you care for dessert?”
He glanced at the mantel clock and set his napkin on the table. “I should be heading back.”
“I have a plate of the Bristlecone Café’s famous brownies.”
He returned his napkin to his lap. “I guess there’s no need to hurry.”
Nic grinned as she rose to clear the dinner plates, but the smile died when she glanced out the window and spied an unusual light. “Wait. Look, Gabe. What is that?”
He responded at the moment a bell began to clang. “Fire. I think it’s across the creek.”
Nic stared, realized what she was looking at, then gasped. “That’s Cavanaugh House.”
Celeste Blessing’s home was on fire.
Gabe started his Jeep and cursed the dog. If not for that dopey, crooked-tailed mange magnet, he’d be holed up on the mountain safely by himself.
He didn’t belong down here in the valley having dinner with an attractive woman. He had no business rushing off to the rescue of little old ladies. Interacting with others. Joining in their efforts. He had no business doing any of this. That wasn’t why he’d come to Eternity Springs.
It was all that stupid dog’s fault.
Yet the moment Nic slipped into the passenger seat beside him, a medical bag in hand, he shifted into gear and headed for the fire.
She tossed a pair of work gloves into his lap. “We’re a volunteer fire department here. They’ll have some extra gear on the truck, but it never hurts to have your own.”
He muttered a few more curses beneath his breath. He had much more experience with firefights than he did with fighting fires.