Forged in love’s sacred flame, can a firefighter and a widow find the path God has set for them?
Ric Rossi left the family farm in Tuscany and never looked back. Working as a firefighter in Reading, England, he has everything a man could ask for—a secure job, a firm faith, and a neighbour who cares for his cat Noci when he goes away. The only thing missing is a woman he can share his life with.
Widowed when her son Deforest was a week old, Bracken Hughes isn’t prepared to open herself to the heartache a relationship can bring. Especially with her handsome neighbour who risks his life each time he leaves for work. No matter how good the man is with her son.
Ric finds Deforest to be an appealing child who captures his interest. And the mother has that certain something that pricks his heart. But the unhealed wound in Ric's soul might just spoil any chance he has at love.
Extract:
The taxi dropped Ric outside the fire station. The tall imposing red brick building stood silent. Never a good sign. He glanced at his watch. Groan. 1115. Already over two hours late for the start of this shift rotation, thanks to what had become a never ending nightmare of a journey back from Tuscany. He paid the exorbitant amount the driver wanted for the ride back from London City Airport to Reading. Good job he had enough English money on him to do so.
Ric hefted his carry-on bag. Fortunately, he travelled light and hadn’t taken a case, else he might still be in baggage claim. This wasn’t how a sudden, all expenses paid trip to Italy was meant to have ended. He should have had ample time to go home, sleep, shower, and so on. Instead, here he was, late and with luggage. He’d never hear the end of the teasing for at least a week.
A fun weekend had turned rapidly into an unmitigated disaster. Culminating with the cherry on the cake, the unseasonable fog which delayed take off this morning until 0800.
He trotted up the path and into the fire station, rehearsing his apology in his head. Only, the building was empty. Both engines were gone. That just made a bad day a whole lot worse.
The carry-on bag hit the floor with a resounding thud.
“Cavolo!” he muttered. Despite the eight years in the UK he still used the mild Italian swear words he’d grown up with.
Ric picked up his bag and took it to the bunk room. He wasn’t sleeping here tonight as he was on a day shift, but at least it would be out the way up here. UK firefighters worked two day shifts—0900-1800—followed by two night shifts—1800-0900—followed by four days off.
He went into the office to sign in and glanced at the clock. 1015. Huh? Oh, of course. His watch was still on Italian time. He put it right. Still late, but not as much as he’d thought. Not that it would make any difference of course. Forgoing the coffee he so desperately needed, Ric headed down to the engine bay. Might as well make himself useful and start the cleaning.
Ric filled the bucket with hot, soapy water and began the task of mopping the floor in the appliance bay. It’d get ruined as soon as the engines returned, but at least it would be done. He’d just finished when the trucks pulled in. Brakes hissed, doors slammed and several pairs of filthy boots jumped down onto his clean floor.
“Floor’s wet!” he yelled.
The watch manager, John Mundey, undid his coat as he walked over to him, a deep frown on his face. “Ric. We missed you.”
“I’m sorry,” Ric said. “The plane was diverted yesterday and then cancelled. I couldn’t get a plane out until this morning and that flight was delayed.”
The Station Officer, a tall black man whose real name was Stan Pearce but was known only as Guv, pulled off his gloves. “So nice of you to join us, Firefighter Rossi. Are you still on Italian time?”
Ric shook his head, grateful he’d put his watch right. “No, Guv. I was just explaining. I did ring the station last night and left a message with Green Watch, but I’m not sure if it was passed on or not. The plane was diverted to Zurich after the bloke next to me had a heart attack. Then there were mechanical problems so the flight got cancelled. We all got put into a hotel for the night as there were no available flights because of the bank holiday. The flight this morning was fog bound and left over an hour late. Otherwise I’d have been here on time.”
“Did the heart attack victim make it?”
“Yeah.” Ric shoved his hands in his pocket. He didn’t bother to elaborate. “But like I said, I did ring from Zurich yesterday and tried to call again this morning, but there was no answer.”
The alarm rang.
“House fire, person’s reported.”
Everyone turned and ran back to the engines, pulling on turnout gear.
Ric ran with them, relived to have the subject dropped, for the time being at least. He climbed aboard, the familiar sirens ringing out above him. Adrenaline flooded his system. This is what he’d been called to do. Put his life on the line with each and every shout to save others.
****
Bracken Hughes couldn’t believe the queue. She’d been stuck making a variety of coffees for over an hour, and the line of customers was still out of the door. As much as she loved her job in Tilly’s Coffee Shop, she really could do with a break. Just clearing tables would be pure bliss right now and she hated that.
Finally the queue eased. She grabbed the yellow cloth and began to wipe down the surfaces.
Vera, the barista who’d been working the till, appeared by her side and nudged her. “Don’t look now, but there’s a fire engine parked outside. Wonder if something’s happened next door.”
Bracken glanced at the doorway. “Nope. The blue lights aren’t flashing, so they’re not on a shout.”
“I said don’t look.”
“You and men in uniform,” she sighed. “You really need to get a life outside of this place.”
Vera squealed. “Wow! Look at that a hunk and a half. And he’s coming this way.” She moved back to the till as a tall, black-haired firefighter came into the shop.
“Morning, ladies.”
Bracken grinned into the coffee machine. She’d recognise that gorgeous Italian accent anywhere. But she wasn’t going to spoil Vera’s fun just yet.
“Morning. What can I get you?” Vera’s fawning voice was almost enough to make Bracken turn and interrupt. Almost.
“Six white coffees to go, please. And one espresso to drink in now.”
“Sure.”
Bracken pulled six large take away cups off the stand. “On the house, Vera.”
“I can’t accept charity,” Ric objected.
Bracken turned and shot him a smile. “New house rule as of the weekend. No-one in service uniform pays for anything.”
Ric slid the money back into his pocket. “That’s very kind. Thank you.”
Vera visibly pouted as Ric moved to the end of the counter where Bracken stood. He leaned against it.
“How was Italy?” she asked, as she handed him the espresso.
“Thank you.” He downed the coffee quickly. “Italy was the same. Nice to see everyone again though. Video calls just aren’t the same thing. Though the journey back was a nightmare. Had to go straight to work. You?”
Bracken tried to keep her face straight. Not going to let the stress and disappointment show. “Typical bank holiday weekend. It rained. I worked. Mum and Dad looked after Deforest.” She frowned at the coffee machine as she made the other six coffees. “Apparently he drove Dad nuts all day yesterday by being a fire engine. A very noisy fire engine. I blame the birthday present they gave him to be honest. Shiny red fire engine with flashing lights and sirens.”
Ric smiled. “Sounds fun. You should bring him by the station at some point. He can sound the sirens for real. How’s Noci?”
“Missing you.” She tamped down the lids on the cups. “I don’t have a carrier for six, I’m afraid. Will a four and a two suffice?”
“Sure.” He angled his head. “Is everything all right? You don’t seem your normal, bouncy self today.”
“Long weekend, is all.” She slid the cups into the carriers. “There you go. Be safe out there.”
Ric took the carriers. “Will do. Thank you.” He headed out, the door shutting behind him.
Vera leaned on the counter and eyed Bracken. “So, what’s the story between you and the hunk in uniform?”
“There isn’t one. He lives in the flat above me. That’s it.”
“But you’d like there to be?”
“I’m a single mother. He’s an attractive bloke.”
Vera pointed at her. “You’re a widow. It’s not the same thing.”
“Yes, it is. Anyway, he’s Italian and they have this thing about family and stuff. Besides, I don’t have time for a relationship. Between work and Deforest and church, I have very little time for anything.”
“Well,” Vera grabbed a cloth and began cleaning, “if you don’t want him, mind if I take a shot?”
“What happened to Patrick?”
“Patrick was last week and it’s over.”
Bracken shook her head. That girl went through men like a hot knife through butter. “I’m going on a break. You can go when I get back. I also need to sort out the supplies that were delivered earlier.”
She headed into the small office at the back of the shop. Despite what she said, she liked Ric. Just didn’t stand a chance with him, so there was no point hoping.
As she began to sort the pile of boxes, her thoughts turned to her son and the disaster of a weekend. It was just a very good thing Ric hadn’t been there to witness it. Because that would have made the humiliation worse. Her mobile phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket to answer it. “Hi, Mum.”
“Deforest finally calmed.”
“You can’t blame him for being upset. He’s six. What happened at the weekend was a big deal to him.”
“You pander to the child. Anyway, we took him to school. Said you’d pick him up.”
“Thanks Mum.” The phone in her hand went dead. “See you tomorrow.” She tossed the phone to the desk.
Did she pander? Maybe. It wasn’t easy being on her own and Deforest wasn’t an easy child. Life had been cruel to them both. The accident that took her husband had left her a single mother with a tiny baby. His limp, a result of Perthes disease, made him stand out from all the other kids. There was still a possibility he’d grow out of it, but it didn’t make the present very easy for him. He didn’t enjoy school on a good day.
But then Saturday happened, everything went pear shaped, and now he hated school even more. Not that she could blame him for that. She just wished she could make everything better for him. But that would take a miracle.
You can pick up a copy on Amazon in either ebook or paperback.
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This one is part of A Tuscan Legacy - a multi author set of books surrounding one Italian Grandmother and her eight grandchildren. Each book is detailed on another post along with the links to the other books in the series.
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