And that wasnt the most serious problem. If Gabe continued to deny his need, that might keep him from bonding with his service dog. All her work on the grant proposal could come to nothing.
She crossed the glossy tile floor to the elevators, searching the posted directory for the fire chiefs name. She had to get an unbiased opinion about Gabe, and she certainly couldnt get that from his family.
The Flanagan familys overflowing love would probably make them support him if he declared that the sky was pink with orange polka dots. She couldnt imagine what that must be liketo have people love and support you that much.
She stepped into the elevator, confronting her image in its mirrored wall. She wore the navy blazer again. Claire kept threatening to burn it, but she never did. Maybe she understood that Nolie needed the anonymity the blazer represented.
Worthless, her aunts voice whispered in her memory.
Taking a breath, she concentrated on the blinking light that showed the floors. Whatever her aunt had believed, she wasnt worthless. She was doing good work, and shed do even more once she had the grant. So she wasnt about to give up on Gabe Flanagan, no matter how much hed like her to.
The elevator doors swished open, and she stepped into a long hallway, empty except for one person. Her stomach clenched. Brendan Flanagan. The Reverend Brendan Flanagan.
Nolie, hi. His smile held a tinge of surprise. What brings you here?
She rejected the impulse to lie to him. I wanted to speak with Chief Donovan. Is his office on this floor?
Brendan nodded toward a door. It is, but he isnt in right now. Can I help you?
I dont think so. Her grand plan seemed to be dissolving. Maybe I can make an appointment to see him later.
He hesitated, his eyebrows lifting in a question. Is this about Gabe?
He wouldnt believe her if she said no. She nodded.
Maybe I can help, unless its something official. His smile was deprecating. Even though Im the department chaplain, they dont really trust me with official business.
He didnt look much like a chaplain in his rumpled khakis and navy pullover. He might be another of the young firefighters shed seen downstairs.
I really need to talk with someone about Gabe. She pushed her discomfort out of the way. This was too important to let her own hang-ups stop her. Someone impartial.
He considered for a moment, weighing her words gravely. Well, Im not completely impartial. Gabe is my cousin, as well as my friend. But I think I can be objective about him. He smiled. Unlike the rest of the Flanagans, I might add.
She managed a small smile in return. They are certainlysupportive, I guess you could say.
Im not sure thats what Gabe would say, but itll do. He gestured toward the end of the hall. Theres a break room here. Ill get you a cup of coffee, and you can tell me what you need to know about my cousin.
She didnt want to spend any more time than she had to in his company, but Brendan seemed genuine enough. And the prize she had to win was worth facing a few dragons, wasnt it?
Thanks. I appreciate that.
The few minutes it took to settle themselves at a small table in the empty lounge let her organize her thoughts. She wrapped her fingers around the cup Brendan handed her and tried to look at him without thinking of him as a minister.
It was easier than shed have expected, probably because he didnt look like any minister shed ever met, not that shed met that many. Brother Joshua had been enough for a lifetime.
What can I tell you about Gabe? Brendan pushed back the lock of dark hair that tumbled toward the rims of his glasses.
She reconsidered her view of him. With his serious, studious expression and his glasses, he looked more like a young professor than either a firefighter or a minister.
Im trying to find the best way to work with Gabe, she said carefully. She had to keep in mind that this was Gabes cousin. So far Im finding that hes
She stopped. Too attractive for his own good? Too appealing to be alone with? She didnt want to go there.
In complete denial, Brendan said.
She gave him a look of surprised gratitude. Yes, he is. I thought I was the only one who saw that.
Brendan frowned down at the dark coffee in his cup. Siobhan does, I think, but probably no one else in the family. As for the chiefwell, I know he has a desk job lined up for Gabe, in the event he cant go back on active duty.
She turned that over in her mind, wondering. Do you think Gabe would accept that?
Not for a minute.
This time his answer didnt surprise her.
Hes certainly determined to get back to work. So much so that Im afraid its influencing his attitude toward working with me.
Brendan grinned. You mean hes so bullheaded that he cant see anything but his own objective.
Something like that.
You have to understand. He leaned across the table toward her, eyes intent. Gabes a warrior. Always has been. An old-fashioned knight in shining armor rushing to rescue the helpless. Thats what being a firefighter means to him.
The image warmed her. You care a lot about him.
Like a brother. All Flanagans have fire fighting in the blood, but Gabe most of all. His brows drew together. The thing is, if Gabe cant be a firefighter He stopped and shook his head, his eyes dark and serious. If Gabe cant be a firefighter, I dont think hell know who he is.
Brendans words were still ringing in Nolies ears as she set up an obstacle course on the lawn behind the house later in the afternoon. That conversation had gone a lot better than shed expected, on several counts.
Shed gotten over her instinctive need to escape from him. She hadnt even winced when hed taken her hand and told her hed be praying for her.
And hed given her a glimmer of an idea. His description of Gabe as a knight rescuing the helpless had clicked into place. Of course thats what he wasa modern-day knight. She just had to find a way of working his need to help and rescue into his training.
She tested the white picket gate shed set up, making sure it was stable. Max nosed against it, as if remembering his lessons, then trotted off to join Lady in investigating an interesting smell under the willow tree. A bee buzzed lazily past her toward the old-fashioned lilac bush next to the back porch, and the lilacs aroma perfumed the air.
A perfect spring daymeant for lazing in a hammock, not indulging in a case of the nerves over what she had to do. She heard one car pull into the lane, and then another, and took a deep, settling breath.
Im sure youve heard of Gabriel Flanagan, our citys firefighter hero.
Nolie looked. Well over six feet of glowering firefighter glared back at her. Gabriel Flanagan didnt seem to be any more enthusiastic about this than she was.
We have to set a deadline. Suppose we say one month from today. You can report back to us, and well make a final decision about the grant. The director beamed. Im sure well all be pleased with the results.
The expensive office shimmered in front of her eyes. One month. One month to successfully pair a service dog with a man who looked as if hed rather do just about anything than come anywhere near her and her program.
MARTA PERRY
has written everything from Sunday school curriculum to travel articles to magazine stories in twenty years of writing, but she feels shes found her writing home in the stories she writes for Love Inspired.
Marta lives in rural Pennsylvania, but she and her husband spend part of each year at their second home in South Carolina. When shes not writing, shes probably visiting her children and her beautiful grandchildren, traveling or relaxing with a good book.
Marta loves hearing from readers and shell write back with a signed bookplate or bookmark. Write to her c/o Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279, e-mail her at marta@martaperry.com or visit her on the Web at www.martaperry.com.
Hero in Her Heart
Marta Perry
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in times of need.
Hebrews 4:16
This story is dedicated to my dear brother, William Perry, his wife, Molly, and their loving family, with much love.
Dear Reader,
Im so glad you decided to pick up this book, and I hope my story touched your heart. Helping Nolie and Gabe surmount the obstacles that separated them was a wonderful writing experience for me.
It was also exciting to learn more about the wonderful work done by service animals and those devoted individuals who train them, and to remind myself again of the heroism and self-sacrifice of firefighters.
I hope youll write and let me know how you liked this story. Address your letter to me at Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279, and Ill be happy to send you a signed bookplate or bookmark. You can visit me on the Web at www.martaperry.com or e-mail me at marta@martaperry.com.
Blessings,
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in times of need.
Hebrews 4:16
Nolie Lang stared at the elderly philanthropist whod just offered her her hearts desire with some unexpected conditions attached.
Im sorry. She probably sounded like an idiot, but that was how shed felt since the moment shed stepped into the plush offices of the Henley Foundation. What did you say?
Samuel Henley, beaming all over his rosy, wrinkled face, looked like one of Santas elves. Unfortunately, he didnt sound like one. I said we have the perfect test case to determine if your project is worth our foundations funding. He gestured toward one of the two men sitting opposite her. Im sure youve heard of Gabriel Flanagan, our citys firefighter hero.
Nolie looked. Well over six feet of glowering firefighter glared back at her. Gabriel Flanagan didnt seem to be any more enthusiastic about this than she was.
Yes, of course I have. Flanagans picture had been in all the newspapers a month or two ago, when hed been injured while rescuing several people from a burning warehouse. But I didnt realize Mr. Flanagans injuries required the services of a seizure dog.
She couldnt miss Flanagans reaction to that comment, even though she was usually better at reading animals than people. Without saying a word, he rejected what shed said completely.
He resembled nothing so much as a dog with its hackles raised. Flanagan was an Irish name, but Gabriel wasnt remotely like an Irish setter. He was more of a bull mastiffbig, guarded, wary and vaguely threatening.
The silence was stretching too long. She, Henley and the man whod been introduced as Suffolks fire chief all seemed to wait for a response from Flanagan. It didnt come.
The fire chief planted beefy hands on equally beefy knees and leaned forward. Gabe got a head injury in the accident. He slid a sideways glance toward the man. Were sure hell recover and be back on the job in no time, but he has had a couple of He hesitated, searching for the word. episodes.
Seizures. Flanagans voice was a ferocious bass rumble, like a threatening growl. Call it what it is. I had three seizures.
Seizures werent that unusual after a head injury. When was the most recent one? She ventured the question and was rewarded with a flash of barely controlled fury in eyes so deep a blue that they were almost black.
Two weeks ago. He spat the words out. That doesnt mean anything. Im getting better all the time. I dont need some kind of a guide dog to help me.
Seizure alert dog. Or service dog. She made the correction automatically and then wished she hadnt. Flanagan looked as if it would give him great pleasure to rip her head off.
She couldnt really blame the man. He was obviously in complete denial, which hardly made him a good candidate to convince the Henley Foundation that they should sink a ton of money into saving her service-animal program.
She planted her feet more firmly in plush carpeting that seemed to reach to her ankles. The navy blazer and white shirt that had seemed appropriate when shed left the farm now felt like rummage-sale leftovers. She inhaled. The office even smelled like money.
I dont belong here, Father, but you know Ill do whatever it takes to help Your little ones.
You cant. Aunt Mariahs voice had rarely echoed in her head in recent years, and now was certainly not a good time for it to start. Youre worthless. Always were, always will be.
Shed found her own way of dealing with that bitter voice over the years. I am a child of God, valuable in His sight.
The words gave her the assurance to face anyone, including eccentric millionaires and angry firefighters.
She cleared her throat. If Mr. Flanagan is opposed to this, perhaps we could find another client to prove the worth of my program to the foundation.