“I’m sure you’ve heard of Gabriel Flanagan, our city’s firefighter hero.”

Nolie looked. Well over six feet of glowering firefighter glared back at her. Gabriel Flanagan didn’t 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 we’ll make a final decision about the grant.” The director beamed. “I’m sure we’ll 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 he’d 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 she’s 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 she’s not writing, she’s probably visiting her children and her beautiful grandchildren, traveling or relaxing with a good book.

Marta loves hearing from readers and she’ll 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,

I’m 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 you’ll 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 I’ll 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 who’d just offered her her heart’s desire with some unexpected conditions attached.

“I’m sorry.” She probably sounded like an idiot, but that was how she’d felt since the moment she’d 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 Santa’s elves. Unfortunately, he didn’t sound like one. “I said we have the perfect test case to determine if your project is worth our foundation’s funding.” He gestured toward one of the two men sitting opposite her. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Gabriel Flanagan, our city’s firefighter hero.”

Nolie looked. Well over six feet of glowering firefighter glared back at her. Gabriel Flanagan didn’t seem to be any more enthusiastic about this than she was.

“Yes, of course I have.” Flanagan’s picture had been in all the newspapers a month or two ago, when he’d been injured while rescuing several people from a burning warehouse. “But I didn’t realize Mr. Flanagan’s injuries required the services of a seizure dog.”

She couldn’t miss Flanagan’s reaction to that comment, even though she was usually better at reading animals than people. Without saying a word, he rejected what she’d said completely.

He resembled nothing so much as a dog with its hackles raised. Flanagan was an Irish name, but Gabriel wasn’t remotely like an Irish setter. He was more of a bull mastiff—big, guarded, wary and vaguely threatening.

The silence was stretching too long. She, Henley and the man who’d been introduced as Suffolk’s fire chief all seemed to wait for a response from Flanagan. It didn’t 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. “We’re sure he’ll 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.” Flanagan’s voice was a ferocious bass rumble, like a threatening growl. “Call it what it is. I had three seizures.”

Seizures weren’t 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 doesn’t mean anything. I’m getting better all the time. I don’t 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 hadn’t. Flanagan looked as if it would give him great pleasure to rip her head off.

She couldn’t 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 she’d left the farm now felt like rummage-sale leftovers. She inhaled. The office even smelled like money.

I don’t belong here, Father, but you know I’ll do whatever it takes to help Your little ones.

You can’t. Aunt Mariah’s voice had rarely echoed in her head in recent years, and now was certainly not a good time for it to start. You’re worthless. Always were, always will be.

She’d 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.”

Henley’s rosy face crumpled, as if he were a toddler whose promised ice cream cone had been snatched away.

“Nonsense.” The chief’s voice boomed. “Of course Flanagan wants to do this. He can’t wait to get started.” He shot Gabe a look that demanded agreement.

Obviously Chief Donovan had no intention of offending the man whose generosity to the city of Suffolk, Pennsylvania, was legendary. Well, she didn’t want to offend Henley, either. She wanted him to come forth with the grant for Nolie’s Ark that would give many more people service dogs to make their lives easier.

She suppressed a flicker of panic. With the rising taxes on farmland, how much longer could she keep going if the foundation didn’t help?

“Yes.” Flanagan ground out the word. If his square jaw got any tighter, it might break. “I’m willing to cooperate.”

They were the appropriate words, but every line of his tense body said cooperation was out of the question.

Nolie’s heart sank. She couldn’t hope to convince the foundation that her program worked if her test case were determined to reject everything she had to offer.

“That’s good.” She tried to pretend she believed him. She focused on Henley across the barricade of the desk. He was the one she had to convince, not Flanagan. “But as you know, my work is primarily with children. I’m not sure that Mr. Flanagan is the best candidate.”

“You do work with adults, too.” Henley put a manicured hand on the navy folder in which she’d submitted her proposal. The cheap folder looked out of place on the expanse of polished mahogany. “You mentioned that in your application.”

She was going to have some fierce words for Claire. Her best friend had been supremely confident that convincing Henley she deserved the grant would be a snap. Maybe it would be, for someone as polished and savvy as Claire.

Unfortunately plain old country girl Nolie Lang was the one who had to do the convincing.

“Pairing a seizure dog with a client depends on the rapport between client and animal. That’s easier to achieve with a young client.”

Was she beginning to sound desperate? That was how she felt, but desperation probably wasn’t the best feeling to convey if she expected the man to fund her work.

“Gabriel Flanagan is the foundation’s choice.”

She caught the glimpse of steel in Henley’s rosy face. The implication was clear. This would be done his way or not at all.

For a moment she didn’t seem to see the elegant office with its wide windows looking out on the centuries-old city square. Instead she saw her farm, her animals and the people she could help with this money. Especially the children she could help.

She forced a smile. “If that’s how you feel about it, I’d be happy to work with Mr. Flanagan.”

She couldn’t help but glance in the firefighter’s direction. He glared back at her, as if furious that she’d agreed.

Her own anger sparked. If Flanagan didn’t want to do this, he was the one who should speak up.

“Excellent,” Henley said, rubbing his palms together in pleasure. “I’m delighted you both see it my way.”

As if either of them had a choice in the matter. Well, she’d certainly try this, but she had a bad feeling about what Flanagan was bringing to the situation.

“Now tell me,” Henley went on. “How do you usually begin work?”

Maybe it would be better not to let her gaze stray toward Gabe Flanagan. “Ordinarily I visit the client’s home first, but—”

“Good.” Chief Donovan planted his hands on the arms of his chair, as if ready to have this meeting over. “Gabe needs a ride, so you can drive him home now. That way you can meet all of the Flanagans at once.”

His tone made it sound as if that should be a real treat for her. Her apprehension grew. She wasn’t much good with families, and she didn’t suppose the Flanagans would be any different.

“Fine.” Henley got to his feet, seeming to take her agreement for granted. The rest of them followed suit. Apparently the audience was over. She turned toward the door, not looking forward to the moment when she’d be alone with Gabe Flanagan.

“One last thing,” Henley said.

She swung back around, apprehension a hard ball in her stomach.

A ray of afternoon sunlight made Henley’s white hair glisten. “We have to set a deadline, of course. Suppose we say one month from today. You can report back to us, and we’ll make a final decision about the grant.” He beamed. “I’m sure we’ll 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 he’d rather do just about anything than come anywhere near her and her program.

She squared her shoulders, reaching deep for confidence. Her work deserved the support of the Henley grant. She had to believe that if she were to make a difference.

Like it or not, Gabe Flanagan was essential to her success. That meant she had to make the man cooperate, whether he wanted to or not.

Gabe followed the Lang woman out into the tiled hallway, feeling as if he’d been kicked in the gut. He’d expected this little soirée to be bad. He just hadn’t expected it to be that bad.

Anger and resentment roiled through him. This wasn’t fair. The chief had no right to subject him to this humiliation.

Nolie Lang punched the elevator button. He stood behind her, seething. He would not favor his bad leg when he moved. He could control the limp. He couldn’t control the seizures.

A chill went down his spine. What if he had one right here, right now, falling down in front of her on the polished tile floor?

No. That wasn’t going to happen. He’d had his last seizure, he was sure of it.

He shook his head, feeling like a bull shaking off a swarm of angry bees. People had been shooting darts into his hide since the accident. First it was the doctor, saying he couldn’t predict if or when the lesion on his brain would heal. Then his mother, fussing over him endlessly and insisting he move back home to recuperate.

A fat lot of good that had done. He’d given up trying to feel human again while watching his father and brothers kid him about taking a vacation from work as they tried to hide the fear in their eyes that he’d never be back to normal.

The elevator came. Nolie Lang stepped in, and he followed her. At least she was quiet. He’d expected her to be on him the moment they left the office, trying to convince him that this program of hers would work.

Apparently she’d nearly persuaded Samuel Henley. So Henley had leaned on the chief, and the chief had leaned on him. The pecking order at work…and he was caught in it. Either he volunteered for the Lang woman’s project or he wouldn’t be returning to active duty any time soon.

Nolie Lang didn’t look like a very formidable barrier. She was almost plain, with her tanned face free of makeup and her pale blond hair held back with a tie at the nape of her neck. Repressed, maybe that was the word. The only time he’d seen passion in those light blue eyes had been when she’d talked about her work.

Her work. She didn’t want Gabe Flanagan. She wanted a guinea pig on which to try out her theories.

Well, it wasn’t going to be him. He almost said so, but the elevator reached the garage level, and the few minutes it took to evade several people getting on while they got off was long enough to make him think before he spoke.

He wanted out of this business, but he couldn’t get out. So he had to convince the woman to let him off the hook. Nolie Lang was just another obstacle to his getting back to the work he was born to do. He’d go through her if he had to, but first he’d try getting her to cooperate with him.

Their feet echoed on the concrete floor of the parking level. She glanced at him.

“Is your leg bothering you?”

A flame of anger went through him that he’d let his guard slip, made hotter that she’d noticed.

“No.” That came out almost like a snarl, which was not the way to gain the woman’s cooperation. “It’s healing.”

“That’s good.” She walked briskly toward a dusty station wagon, apparently not concerned enough about his leg to slow down. Or maybe she took him at his word that he was all right.

“Look.” His voice halted her as she unlocked the wagon, her square, competent hand freezing on the handle. “Maybe we ought to talk. We both know Henley’s idea is a bad one.”

She surveyed him, her eyes expressionless. “I generally find that’s not a good thing to say to the man with the money.”

He hunched his shoulders. “That’s what the chief thinks, too. But that doesn’t mean this is going to work.”

“Maybe.” She swung the passenger door open and held it for him.

Resentment bubbled again as he swung himself inside. He didn’t like depending on other people to haul him around. The first thing that had happened after he’d had a seizure was the doctor pulling his driver’s license.

She rounded the car and got in. He swallowed the urge to rant at her. Think, don’t react, he commanded himself.

“What’s this for?” He tapped the mesh screen behind the front seat as she turned the ignition.

“Keeps the dogs from jumping in front.”

“I thought your animals were well-trained enough to help people. Surely they don’t misbehave in the car.”

If the jab bothered her, she didn’t show it. She just backed out and started down the winding concrete ramp.

“Sometimes I pick up strays.” She slowed as they reached the garage exit. “Which way?”

“Go right.” Okay, maybe annoying her wasn’t the best way of getting her on his side. “Look, you said it yourself. I’m not a good candidate for this project.”

Her cool profile didn’t tell him a thing about what she was feeling. “I only said that if you weren’t interested, this probably wouldn’t work well.”

“I’m not interested.” He fought the longing to shout the words at her. “I’m only doing this because the chief insisted, and he’s not a man you can argue with.”

He was also the man who held the power to decide whether Gabe went back on active duty or had to settle for a desk job. Or, worse, a disability retirement.

No. The denial burned in his brain.

“It seems to me we’re both stuck.” She brushed a strand of pale blond hair behind her ear. “You have to do what your chief says. I have to do what Henley says if I want to get my grant.”

“You could talk to him again. Tell him someone else would work out better.”

Her hands moved restlessly on the wheel, stroking it as if it were a pet. “He wants you.”

“Because of the publicity.” Pictures of him on the front page of the local paper, flanked by pictures of the two firefighters who’d died that day.

“I suppose even philanthropists want positive publicity. You’re a hero.”

The word dropped on him like acid. “Believe me, nothing is staler than yesterday’s hero.”

“Obviously, Samuel Henley doesn’t think so.” She slanted a sideways glance at him. “Why does it matter so much to you?”

The attack went under his guard, and for a moment he couldn’t speak.

“It doesn’t,” he said when he thought he could control his voice. “I’m just saying that the whole idea is futile. As I understand it, you need someone who can prove this seizure dog thing of yours works.”

“I already know it works.” There was that passion again, flaring in her eyes as she shot a look at him.

“Okay, bad choice of words. You need someone to show the foundation the value of it.” He leaned forward. “Turn right at the next corner.”

She took the turn onto Elm Street. Thanks to Dutch elm disease, the street was now lined with maples, but no one had suggested changing the name. The May sunshine had brought into full bloom the magnolia tree his mother had planted in the front yard.

“This one.” He nodded toward the sprawling brick two-story his grandfather had built for his expanding family.

The current generation filled it up, too. He tensed at the sight of the cars in the curving driveway. It looked as if the whole family was here.

She stopped the car and turned to look at him, apparently knowing he had more to say on the subject.

“I’m not the right person to prove the worth of your program.” He leaned toward her, intent on convincing her he was right about this. “And it’s not because I’m stubborn or uncooperative.”

A smile flickered on her face, the first one he’d seen. It showed him an unexpected pair of dimples in her cheeks that made her seem both younger and more vulnerable. “It’s not?”

“No.” He had to be sure she understood this. “This seizure-alert thing only works if the person actually has seizures, right?”

“Of course.” Her eyes were wary.

“Then I’m no good to you. Because I’m not going to have any more seizures.”

She looked at him steadily for a long moment, and he didn’t have the slightest idea if she bought it. Then she lifted a level eyebrow.

“Will your doctor confirm that?”

His fists clenched. “Take my word for it. I won’t be a help to you. So the sooner you convince Henley this isn’t going to work, the sooner we can both get on with our lives.”

It was a nice speech. Unfortunately Nolie Lang looked at him as if she didn’t believe a word of it.

The approach of a woman who was probably Gabe’s mother prevented Nolie from replying. Good timing, because almost anything she said would have led to an explosion on Gabe’s part.

Did Gabe have any idea how deeply into denial he was? Probably not, or he’d show some sign that he didn’t quite believe his own words.

What if he’s right? The insidious question slipped into her mind as she got out of the car. If Gabe’s injury had healed, she’d be in the unique position of trying to demonstrate her techniques on someone who would never need them. And Samuel Henley would have put a condition on his grant that she could never fulfill.

Head swimming, she pasted a smile on her face and turned to the woman who’d come to greet them.

“Gabe.” Mrs. Flanagan had a quick smile and a pat on the cheek for her son. The unconscious lovingness of the gesture grabbed Nolie’s heart.

The woman held out her hand. “You must be Ms. Lang. I’m Siobhan Flanagan. Welcome to our home.”

Nolie looked into eyes that were as deeply blue as Gabe’s, but far less guarded. A few lines on her fair skin spoke of life experience, but only a strand or two of gray accented her black hair. Again, like her son’s.

“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Nolie shook hands, wondering a little. Gabe hadn’t called his mother, but she’d obviously known to expect them. That must mean the fire chief had called her, indicating a close relationship between them. She filed that fact away for later consideration.

“You come right on in.” Mrs. Flanagan linked her arm with Nolie’s. “We’re all eager to get to know you.”

All? Nolie took note of the cars lining the drive. “It looks as if you’re having a party. I can come another time.”

That actually brought a short bark of laughter from Gabe, following them up the walk. “No party. Just the usual crush of Flanagans.”

Mrs. Flanagan had a firm grip on her arm. Short of yanking herself free, she seemed to be stuck.

Gabe opened the front door, and a wave of sound hit her, taking her breath away. Apparently all the Flanagans were talking at once.

Gabe’s mother seemed to sniff the air. “Goodness, my stew.” She patted Nolie’s arm. “You’ll stay for supper with us. Don’t you run away until we have a chance to talk.”

She scurried off. She couldn’t know just how much Nolie wanted to run away.

Don’t be ridiculous. They can’t hurt you. She had to lecture herself on the subject of families now and then. Every family wasn’t like hers, after all.

And if she could gain the family’s cooperation, her work with Gabe might be considerably easier. So she’d do this.

People seemed to swirl through the huge living room and dining room that stretched the entire width of the house. She had a quick impression of comfortably overstuffed furniture and walls crowded with family photos—dozens of family photos.

Gabe was still at her side, and she could feel the solid strength of him through the brush of his arm against hers. She sought for something to say. “You have a big family.”

“You might say that. My parents have five kids, although sometimes it seems like more.”

“And you all live at home?”

Gabe’s eyes flickered with a touch of regret. “I have my own place. I moved home after the accident.”

She added that fact to her mental calculations of the dog who would be best for Gabe, always assuming he stayed with the program long enough to get a dog.

“I guess that seems odd, but my folks are old-fashioned.” He sounded slightly defensive. “They want their kids to live at home until they’re married.”

“Or longer.” The speaker must be one of Gabe’s brothers, since he had the trademark deep blue eyes and black hair. Probably in his mid twenties, he had an engaging liveliness to his face, and he carried a wiggling toddler under one arm. “I thought we’d never get Mary Kate out of the house.” He held out his hand to Nolie. “I’m Ryan.”

“The baby.” A red-haired woman arrived at his elbow. “I’m Mary Kate.” She started to shake hands with Nolie, then abruptly turned away to grab the toddler Ryan was dangling. “How many times have we told you not to hold Davy upside down? You want him to throw up on you? Come help me put a leaf in the table.”

They left before Nolie had a chance to say anything, even assuming she could have thought of something. She glanced at Gabe, to find him watching her with amusement.

“They’re a bit much, I grant you. Mary Kate’s the oldest, and the two red-haired hooligans are hers.” He nodded toward a boy and girl chasing each other. “I’m next, then Seth, then Theresa, then Ryan. The little guy Ryan was holding is Seth’s son, Davy. Don’t worry about remembering their names.”

Because she wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter?

“I don’t want to impose.” What she wanted was to get out of this crowd and back to her quiet house. Alone. “I just needed to get a sense of what your home life was like so that I can choose an appropriate animal.”

“My mother would consider it an insult if you left now.”

He nodded to Siobhan, who was clinking a spoon on a glass. The signal sent her family scurrying to the dining-room table—a long walnut oval covered by a lace tablecloth.

She could guess that Gabe’s opinion didn’t match his mother’s. Still, she needed all the help she could get with the man. If she didn’t win him over—

She stopped that thought before it could take over. She managed a smile and let herself be piloted to a seat.

The man next to her was obviously Gabe’s father, and just as obviously the patriarch of the clan. He sat in a massive chair at the head of the table, watching benevolently as his family took their places.

He didn’t say anything, just waited as they quieted and clasped hands around the table. Before she quite knew how it had happened, Nolie felt her hands held firmly by Gabe’s father on one side and the sister she hadn’t been introduced to on the other—Theresa, she thought.

Mr. Flanagan led them in grace, a very faint Irish accent touching the words of the prayer as it rolled out. His Amen was punctuated by the clatter of dishes.

“Getting us all sorted out yet?” Gabe’s sister, Theresa, had a quick smile. “My father is Joe, and I’m Terry. I’m afraid we can be overwhelming at first glance.”

“And at second,” Ryan added from across the table.

“I think I’m getting there.” She glanced around, sorting out Mary Kate, her husband and children.

Terry grinned. “Mary Kate, Seth and I got Dad’s red hair and freckles, but Seth’s darkened when he grew up. Gabe and Ryan look like Mom.”

She nodded, wondering whether learning their names was of any use. If Gabe had his way, this could be the first and last time she met the Flanagans.

Seth was the solid, calm one, then. He sat next to the toddler, rescuing the teething biscuit the child dropped. “And Davy’s mother?”

Sorrow darkened Terry’s lively face. “She died shortly after he was born. Davy lives here with us.”

The sorrow touched her. “You must be very close.”

“We are that.” Gabe’s father had obviously heard her comment. “Every single one a firefighter, and proud of it.”

She blinked. “You’re all firefighters?”

“Well, not Siobhan. And not Mary Kate, now that she has a family. But her husband filled in for her, didn’t you, Kenny?”

Mary Kate’s husband stopped buttering bread for one of his children to nod, smiling.

“That’s amazing.” Would that make it easier or harder to enlist their aid with Gabe? She didn’t know.

Joe Flanagan shrugged. “It’s what we do. What we were born for. Maybe Gabe most of all.” He leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “Gabe is strong as a horse. He’ll be back on the job in no time. I’m not saying anything against this program of yours, but Gabe doesn’t need it.”

“I see.” That seemed to answer the question of whether she could expect any help from Gabe’s family. His father, at least, was just as convinced as Gabe that Nolie was unnecessary.

Her head began to throb from the noise. She glanced at Gabe, wondering how he stood it all.

But Gabe was leaning back in his chair, gesturing with his fork at something one of his brothers had said. His angular face was the most relaxed she’d seen it. His hair, nearly blue-black where the overhead light reflected on it, tumbled onto his forehead a little.

As if he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her. His face was open to her for just an instant, and her heart seemed to turn over. Her breath caught, and the noise around them faded.

Whoa. She’d better be careful. Because if Gabriel Flanagan looked at her that way too many times, she’d could find herself agreeing with just about anything he said.

Chapter Two

By the time supper ended, Gabe was beginning to think he’d never get rid of Nolie Lang. Every member of his family seemed determined to talk to her. He could only hope they were all telling her the same thing he had—that he didn’t need her help. The woman should leave convinced she’d have to find another guinea pig for her experiment.

Judging by the way Nolie’s gaze kept darting toward the door, she was ready to be free of the Flanagans, too, for the moment, at least. Well, he wanted her to be free of them permanently.

He’d steered clear while Mom had showed her the wall full of fire-department photos and citations above the mantel, not wanting to be the subject of his mother’s praises in front of this woman.

But now Ryan joined them, chatting away as if he and Nolie were old friends. Gabe hoped he was reinforcing the family line—Gabe doesn’t need your help. Gabe is fine. Gabe will be back on the job in no time.

Ryan seemed to be turning on an inordinate amount of the Flanagan charm. Now, why was his little brother going to so much trouble? It certainly wasn’t as if Nolie were his type. Ryan might be initially attracted by the long blond hair, but everything else about Nolie would turn him off.

Plain. That was all he could think. She looked as if she hadn’t made the faintest effort—just run in from the barn and tossed on a white shirt and navy blazer. Even his tomboy sister Terry would have done a better job for an important interview.

So what interested Ryan so much? He sauntered closer to find out.

“That’s my father and his brothers when they first joined the department.”

Ryan had obviously taken over the explanations, while his mother smiled and nodded. Nolie couldn’t know it, but the Flanagan kids favored either Mom or Dad in personality as well as looks. Mary Kate, Terry and Ryan were as ebullient as Dad, while he and Seth had his mother’s reserve.

Ryan’s eyes sparked with mischief as Gabe joined them. “And here’s the brand-new citation for our latest hero, Gabriel Flanagan.”

Nolie studied the plaque with every indication of interest. Gabe averted his eyes from it and glared at his brother.

“Give it a rest, Ryan.”

“Hey, I will when you stop gold-bricking and get back on the job. I don’t want to have to uphold the family traditions single-handedly.”

“You’ve got Dad, Seth and Terry to do that.”

He could only hope they were also keeping Ryan in line. The kid had a tendency to take more risks than he needed to at times.

“They’re not the current hero.” Ryan, of course, knew exactly what buttons to push.

“Knock it off.” That came out with enough of a snarl in his voice that even his baby brother knew he meant it.

With another engaging grin for Nolie, Ryan moved away.

“We are proud of you,” his mother said softly. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Sure, Mom.” He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. “I understand, but Nolie didn’t come to hear the whole Flanagan saga.”

“Actually it’s quite helpful in deciding what kind of dog will work best for you,” Nolie said. “I’m finding it all very interesting.”

She was probably picturing the publicity she’d get for her program with him as her prized exhibit. Well, he wasn’t going to join her dog-and-pony show, not if he could help it.

A clatter of dishes from the kitchen diverted his mother. She murmured an apology and scurried in that direction.

As soon as she’d gone, he squared off with Nolie. “I already told you. I don’t need a dog.”

Her level brows lifted. “I believe I heard you tell the chief that you’d cooperate.”

“What I told—” he began.

“Are you seeing all the family history?” This time the interruption came from a man new to the gathering, and he gritted his teeth before attempting introductions.

“Nolie Lang, this is my cousin, Brendan Flanagan. Come to scrounge some leftovers, no doubt.”

Brendan’s grin admitted the truth of that barb. “Only partly. I also wanted to meet Ms. Lang.”

“Nolie, please.” She extended her hand. “Are you another of the Flanagan firefighters?”

Brendan shook his head, probably used to explaining his story.

“I’m the one holdout—the only Flanagan who didn’t go into the family business. I’m the minister at Grace Church.”

Gabe couldn’t miss Nolie’s reaction to that. She snatched her hand back as if she’d touched hot metal, and her skin went pale under her tan.

Now what, exactly, was going on with the woman?

“Brendan keeps us in line,” Gabe said with deliberate casualness, watching her. “If all the Flanagans aren’t sitting in a row on Sunday morning, he wants to know why.”

“And I’m also the fire department chaplain, so they can’t get away from me at work, either,” Brendan added. “Which I guess means I didn’t completely reject the family business.”

He could tell by the way Brendan studied Nolie’s face that he’d noted her intense reaction, too.

“I see.” She gave a meaningless smile, and he sensed that only strong control kept her from bolting out the door. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a card. “Here’s my address,” she said, handing it to Gabe. “I’d like to meet at the farm tomorrow, if that’s possible for you.”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t think I can make it.”

Their gazes clashed, and he saw a determination in hers that matched his own. “I think you’d better find a way.”

The implication was clear. He’d show up, or she’d sic the chief on him.

“Fine.” He ground out the word. “What time?”

“About one o’clock would be good for me.”

She waited long enough for his curt nod, and then turned toward the door. “Please thank your parents for me. I really have to leave.”

She didn’t wait for a response, just bolted toward the exit with barely concealed relief.

Gabe let the door close behind her before he looked at his cousin, eyebrows lifting.

“Okay, let me in on the secret. Exactly what did you do to the woman to send her running?”

Brendan shrugged, his eyes troubled. “I don’t know. She seems to have a problem with ministers, doesn’t she?”

“Obviously. You don’t usually send strange women screaming for the exit.”

That didn’t bring the smile he expected from Brendan. “I’d like to talk with her further. Maybe when you’re working with her, you can mention that I’d enjoy getting to know her better.”

“I don’t intend to be working with her, remember?”

“So I’ve heard.” Brendan’s gaze probed beneath the surface. “You want to talk about that?”

No. He didn’t. He didn’t want to talk about any of it. “Thanks anyway, Brendan. Save the pastoral advice for somebody who needs it. I’m fine.”

Fine. He certainly didn’t want to talk to his cousin about the fact that he seemed to be going through the motions spiritually these days. Or that God had been silent just when he needed Him most.

And he also didn’t intend to discuss his vulnerabilities with Nolie Lang. Determination tensed every muscle. This little encounter hadn’t worked out as well as he’d hoped. Even the Flanagan crew hadn’t been able to convince her he didn’t need her services.

But the next day they’d be alone together, without his loving, interfering family around. They’d have it out.

He wasn’t going to be Nolie’s test case. Tomorrow he’d make sure she accepted that fact.

Gabe hadn’t shown up. One o’clock had come and gone, and he hadn’t even called. Nolie couldn’t say she was surprised.

She tried to concentrate on getting Danny Trent and his wheelchair through the obstacle course she’d set up in the renovated garage that was now her training center. She’d left the big doors open, and May sunshine warmed the concrete floor.

One might expect that the eight-year-old, with his multiple birth defects and his feuding parents, would be tough to work with, but he wasn’t. Danny’s indomitable spirit shone through no matter what struggle he faced.

At the moment he was adjusting to training with Lady, the German shepherd she’d chosen for him. Both took to their challenges eagerly, and her heart warmed with the joy of a successful pairing.

“Great job, Danny.”

Danny rewarded her with the smile that seemed too big for his small face. “Thanks.”

“Now tell Lady what a good girl she is and give her a treat.”

She watched as he struggled to make his hand cooperate in giving Lady the doggie nugget. It was hard not to jump in and help when he had difficulty, but Danny could do this himself. Every little triumph gave him energy for the next challenge.

The boy beamed when he succeeded. Lady licked his cheek, making him giggle.

“Can we do it again, Nolie? Please?”

“Sure, give it another try.”

He’d do it faster this time, with more confidence. Gabe ought to see this. Maybe Danny’s efforts would help him to understand what her program was all about.

She couldn’t say she’d done a very good job of dealing with the man. She’d like to blame it on being knocked off balance by the unexpected condition Henley had put on her grant, but that wasn’t all that had gone wrong.

She’d found Flanagan himself intimidating, although she’d certainly never let him know it. His fierce anger at what had happened to him was almost palpable. He couldn’t admit that. He was in complete denial about the entire situation.

As for that visit to his house—well, she’d been grateful to escape back to the solitude of her own little world. The Flanagan brood was a little overwhelming.

Unfortunately, escape was the right word. She’d basically run like a deer after that unexpected encounter with Gabe’s cousin. The minister.

The very word left a sour taste in her mouth. That was what Brother Joshua had called himself, although certainly no divinity school had ever claimed him. And she doubted that God had given any sort of blessing to the man.

None of that had mattered to the great-aunt who’d reluctantly taken her in after everyone else had abandoned her. To put it in the most charitable light, Aunt Mariah hadn’t known what to do with a thrown-away eight-year-old. So she’d turned to the leader of her bizarre sect for child-rearing advice.

I know I should get over this, Father. My relationship with You transcends anything in my past. It does. But every time I come into contact with organized religion, all those dark memories come back.

Well, she didn’t have to have anything more to do with Gabe’s cousin. And it looked as if she might not be able to have anything more to do with Gabe, either.

What were her options? She could confront him again. Or go to the fire chief for help. Or even contact the foundation, although she certainly didn’t want to admit failure to Samuel Henley at the first hurdle.

“We did it!” Danny crowed. “We did perfect, Nolie.”

“You sure did, honey.” She managed to hug him and ruffle the dog’s fur at the same time. “You’ll be ready for graduation before you know it.”

His face clouded. “I don’t want to—not if I have to go away from you.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Her heart clenched. “I’ll always be your friend, you know that.”

But they would part. That was the nature of her work. She bonded with a child or an animal, worked intensely with them for months, and then saw them leave. That was success—they didn’t need her anymore.

She planted a kiss on Danny’s cheek. “Your mom’s here to pick you up. I’ll see you next time.”

She straightened, trying to keep the smile on her face. Danny’s mother wasn’t the only one here. Gabe lounged in the doorway, watching her.

Tension zinged along her nerves. She’d rather work with a dozen Dannys than one large, angry male, but she didn’t have a choice.

She waved goodbye to the child and tried to put a little steel in her spine as she walked toward Gabe, Lady trotting at her heels. She wouldn’t let the man intimidate her. She would show him the work she did here so convincingly that he’d have to admit its value.

And make him admit he needed it? Probably not, but she had to try.

“Good afternoon.” She wouldn’t say anything about his tardiness. Let him bring it up if he wanted.

He gave a curt nod. The jeans and white knit shirt he wore today contrasted with the dress shirt and slacks he’d had on at the foundation the day before. His shoulders seemed even broader, his frown more intimidating.

She wiped her palms on her own faded jeans. He was not going to succeed in cowing her.

“That’s a cute kid.” When he finally spoke, it was about Danny.

“Yes, he is.” Her gaze softened as she watched the boy’s mother settle him into her van and fold his wheelchair with the ease of long practice.

“What’s wrong with him?”

Lady nuzzled Gabe’s leg, curious about the stranger, and he scratched her ears absently.

Good. At least he related to a dog without tension or fear. “Danny has multiple birth defects. He may always have to depend on the chair, but he and Lady are going to be a good team.”

He glanced down at Lady. “Why didn’t the dog go home with him?”

“They have a lot of training to do with me before that happens. But Danny’s a hard worker. He’ll make it.” What about you, Gabe? Will you give me a chance to help you?

“Meaning you think I’m not.” He shot the words at her.

She couldn’t argue with everything he said, or they’d never get anything done. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

She gestured around the expanse of concrete, with its hurdles, barricades, ramps and stairs. “This is our training area. Clients and animals learn to work together here.”

“Don’t you mean dogs?”

At least something interested him. “Mostly dogs, but not always. I’ve trained monkeys to help people who have limited use of their hands. Different animals meet different needs.” She stroked Lady. “Lady will help Danny learn to maneuver in his chair, keep him safe and protect him if he falls.”

“That’s a big job for an animal.” He was still frowning, but at least he wasn’t walking away.

“Lady can handle it. She loves to work. I’m hoping that eventually she’ll be able to alert him.” She hesitated, and then deliberately added, “Danny has a seizure disorder, too. Maybe you ought to talk with him about it.”

“No.” The word snapped out at her, sharp as a slap.

“It could help both of you.”

His hands clenched, as if he didn’t know what to do with his stress. “Look, I did tell the chief I’d cooperate, so I’m here. But don’t try putting me in a box with your other patients. I won’t fit.”

Patience, Nolie, patience.

“So where does the cooperating part come in?”

He didn’t smile, but some of the tension went out of his face. “Like I said, I’m here. I’m ready to be convinced that what you do is legitimate.”

He wasn’t ready to be convinced of anything at all, but at least he’d come. Maybe she could still salvage this project once he saw what she actually did here.

“Let’s see the rest of the operation,” Nolie said. She led the way outside, blinking as she stepped into the bright May sunshine.

Gabe’s sister, Terry, sat in a dusty van pulled up under the oak tree next to the drive. She waved in their direction, but didn’t get out.

“Your sister’s welcome to come look around.”

He shook his head. “She’s prepping for some paramedic test she has coming up. I told her she could use the time for studying.”

He clearly hated depending on other people to take him places. Maybe he also resented the fact that other people’s careers moved on while his stagnated.

“There’s my house.” She gestured toward the white frame building with its black shutters, a typical Pennsylvania farmhouse nestled into the lush green fields that had drawn Pennsylvania Dutch farmers to the area a century earlier. “And the outbuildings.”

Gabe glanced at the cottage that was tucked into the grove of hemlocks behind the main house. “Space for visiting relatives?”

“Not exactly.” Gabe, with his huge, supportive clan, couldn’t possibly imagine the isolation of having no one. “I fixed up the guest cottage for clients to use during the final phase of training.”

He sent her a wary look. “Final phase? That sounds ominous.”

“In the early stages of training, I work with the client and the service animal several times a week. The last two weeks are intensive training, and the client lives in the cottage with the animal.”

Somehow she thought Gabe would balk at that, even if he agreed to the rest of the program. Well, she’d handle that when the time came. The important thing now was simply to gain his agreement.

“How long does all this take?”

“Usually a couple of months, at least. But since Mr. Henley put a month limit on us, we’ll have to accelerate the process for you.”

She waited for him to reiterate that he didn’t need the program, but he merely nodded toward the white-rail-fenced paddock as they approached it. “More trained animals, or just color?”

She leaned on the top rail, clicking her fingers. The gray donkey ambled over to have his floppy ears scratched. “This is Toby. The humane society took him from an abusive owner and asked me to give him a home. As you say, he adds a little color. The children like him, and he’s certified as a therapeutic pet.”

Gabe reached across the railing to rub Toby’s muzzle. Toby stared back with mournful brown eyes. “A therapeutic pet,” he repeated.

“Sorry.” She smiled. “You don’t know the lingo yet. A therapeutic pet is an animal that’s trained to go into places like nursing homes to relate to the patients.”

“You take a donkey into a nursing home?” He clearly didn’t believe that was possible.

“Hey, he’s a big hit, especially with the ladies.”

Gabe stared at the next animal that wandered up to the fence for her share of attention. “What on earth is that?”

Nolie patted Dixie. “Dixie’s a miniature horse. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

He shook his head, his gaze moving between Dixie and the German shepherd. They were about the same size. “Just part of the menagerie?”

“Dixie’s training as a service animal. She’s going to be a guide animal for a client who is blind.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

At least she’d captured his interest, even if the gaze he turned on her continued to be disbelieving.

“Miniature horses are good at that. They’re intelligent, loyal and they have a longer working lifespan than a dog. It’s devastating to a blind person to lose a service dog.”

His shoulders moved, as if he didn’t want to think about that. “I guess it would be. I can’t imagine depending on an animal that way.”

“That’s what we’re all about here. Animals and clients learn to depend on each other.”

She couldn’t miss his response to that. He didn’t say a word, but his whole body rejected it. Gabe clearly didn’t plan to depend on anyone or anything.

“Shall we get on with the grand tour?” His voice had cooled even more.

“All that’s left is the barn.” Lady pressed against her leg, whining a little. “Go on, girl. You’ve earned a play time.” Lady ducked under the rail, and danced toward the donkey.

Nolie moved quickly toward the open doors of the red barn. She ought to press the subject that burned in her mind, but she wasn’t sure how to go about it.

Should she just introduce him to the dog she’d chosen for him? Assume he intended to go through with the program and risk his walking away?

Gabe paused as she waded through a cluster of hens fighting over a kernel of corn. His eyebrow quirked. “Guide chickens?”

“I keep them for the eggs.” Was he laughing at her? Probably. Well, she didn’t care what he thought of her, as long as he didn’t keep her from getting her grant.

She stepped into the barn, inhaling its mingled scents of animals, straw and hay. Sunlight, filtering through a few gaps in the siding she’d have to fix before next winter, set dust motes dancing.

Peace. That was what she always felt here. It was more peaceful to her than any church could possibly be. It had been her sanctuary more than once, both in the sense of a place to worship and also of a place to hide.

“Looks as if no one is in residence.” Gabe’s voice, echoing closer behind her than she’d thought, seemed to make the dust motes shimmer.

“There’s someone here.” She clicked her fingers, and the yellow Lab rose from the mound of straw that was his favorite napping spot. “You missed him because he’s the same color as his bed.”

Max came toward them with the natural dignity that was the first thing she’d noticed about the dog when she’d seen him in the shelter. She stroked the warm, golden fur.

“This is Max. He’s the dog I’ve picked out for you.”

Gabe’s tension level shot up so high that she could feel it prick her skin through the inches that separated them. Max’s ears went up, and he moved protectively closer to Nolie’s side.

“I’ve already told you—”

“You’ve told me you don’t need a dog. But obviously your chief thinks you do.”

“He doesn’t think any such thing. He’s just trying to stay on the good side of the Henley Foundation.”

“Either way, he said you’d cooperate. You said you’d cooperate.” She couldn’t let him off the hook. The future of her program depended on him.

“You’d be wasting your time with me. Spend it on someone like Danny.”

“Your cooperation means the money that will let me help a lot of Dannys.” It could mean the survival of the program, but she didn’t think she wanted to trust him with that information.

His harassed look said he didn’t know how to respond to that. “All you have to do is go to Henley and tell him I’m not a good candidate for your program. You’ll get us both out.”

“I’ve already tried that.” She was ashamed to admit it. “I saw Henley again this morning.”

“What did he say?” He looked like a man who saw his last hope disappearing.

“That I should prove I could work with a difficult case. Like you.”

She held her breath. She’d laid it all on the line with Gabe. If he walked away—

For a long moment he stared at her, his eyes bleak. “So we’re both stuck.” He bit off the words.

Relief flooded through her, but she didn’t dare let him see it. “Yes, I guess we are.”

A tiny muscle twitched in his jaw. “All right.” He spat out the words. “It’s going to be a disaster. But I’ll try.”

Chapter Three

Gabe couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this crazy idea. He also couldn’t believe he was responding to the happiness he saw shimmering in Nolie’s blue eyes. Or that he wanted to go on seeing it there.

He found himself leaning toward her, as if compelled to be closer. She smelled like soap and sunshine. “Nolie—”

“Am I interrupting something?” The clear, high voice from the barn entrance brought him abruptly to his senses.

A good thing.

“Claire. What are you doing here today?” Nolie’s voice had warmed in a way he hadn’t heard before. Apparently she only used her coolest tones on him.

The woman who strolled slowly toward them was Nolie’s opposite in every conceivable way. Hair a rich, deep auburn, mahogany-colored eyes that were expertly made up, clothes she probably thought of as country that were a far cry from Nolie’s shabby jeans and T-shirt.

She held out a perfectly manicured hand to him. “I’m Claire Delany. And you are?”

“This is one of my clients,” Nolie said quickly.

He thought her cheeks were slightly pinker than they’d been earlier. Because she’d recognized that insane moment when he’d leaned toward her? He hoped not.

“Does this client have a name?”

“Gabriel Flanagan.” He could speak for himself. As for whatever that moment had been—well, not attraction. Definitely not.

He shifted his gaze to the dog, finding it easier to look at Max than to meet Nolie’s cornflower gaze. “I’d better be on my way.”

“I thought we’d spend some time working with Max.”

“Your friend is here.” And besides, he didn’t want to. He wanted to be alone to figure out how he was going to handle this situation.

“Claire will wait.” She shot a look at her friend, who nodded.

A relationship between two such different women had to be an unusual one. He pushed the thought aside. He didn’t need to know anything about Nolie beyond the obstacle she represented.

“Tomorrow will do as well, won’t it? My sister needs to get back.”

Nolie nodded reluctantly, probably fearing that if he once got away from her, he wouldn’t be back. “All right, tomorrow. Is two o’clock all right?”

“Two it is.” He was already moving toward the door. He’d agree to just about anything right now that would get him out of there. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When he saw Nolie tomorrow, he’d have figured out how to turn this into a stepping stone. Nolie thought they were stuck with each other, and maybe that was true. But if he had to do this, there had to be a way he could use the situation to get himself on active duty again, the sooner the better.

It took a half hour to drive home, and by the time they arrived, the pep talk Terry seemed compelled to give was wearing thin. She meant well, they all did, but nobody seemed to understand that he had to deal with this situation in his own way.

Seth and Ryan were playing one-on-one in the driveway, so Terry stopped at the curb.

“Thanks, baby.”

“Ryan’s the baby,” Terry snapped back automatically.

He grinned, a bit of his good humor restored. “I’ll tell him you said so.” He started toward his brothers.

“You’re not going to play ball, are you?” Terry asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

Ignoring the question, he kept on going. His family alternated between treating him as if nothing had happened and acting as if he were an invalid.

Ryan missed the ball, and he grabbed it.

“How about taking on some real competition?”

He read identical hesitation in both pairs of eyes.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Seth said. “I thought you weren’t supposed to get stressed.”

“You think beating you is stressful? Think again.” He dribbled the ball. “Or are you afraid I’m going to fall down on the driveway in a fit?”

“Of course not.” Ryan made an unsuccessful effort to steal the ball.

He dribbled past him and shot. The ball rolled around the rim and bounced out. “I’m out of practice.”

“You’d better take it easy on that leg, or Mom will be out here yelling at all of us.” Seth grabbed the ball. “How did it go today?”

He shrugged. “The net is closing. She claims she tried to get the foundation let her use someone else, but Henley wouldn’t.”

“The chief won’t back down, either. If Dad couldn’t budge him, no one will.”

“I don’t see a way out.” He’d snatch it like a loose ball if he did, agreement or not.

“Look, it won’t be so bad.” Seth was determined to look on the bright side, but that was Seth, everyone’s friend. “Even if you don’t need the dog, it won’t hurt to play along. You can use the time to get your leg strong again, so you can get back on duty.”

Ryan popped the ball out of Seth’s hands. “Bad advice. Good old reliable Seth, always playing it safe.”

Seth flushed. “That’s a lot better than taking stupid risks.”

He glanced from one to the other. Did that mean Ryan had been skirting the edge again at work? A firefighter couldn’t be paralyzed by danger, but he shouldn’t flirt with it, either.

“What have you been up to, Ryan? I keep hearing talk that you’re taking a few too many chances these days.”

Ryan shrugged, giving him a cocky look that said he thought he was indestructible. “Maybe I’m trying to live up to my brother, the hero.”

The flip words drove like a knife into his soul. “I’m not a hero.” If he really were a hero, he’d have found a way to save the men who’d died beside him. “Don’t you try to be one. We don’t need any funerals in the family.”

“Hey, lighten up. I didn’t mean anything. I just think you ought to risk turning on the famous Flanagan charm, that’s all.” Ryan grinned. “Believe me, a plain Jane like that woman would eat it right up. And a few words from her might sway the chief’s opinion about when you can get back on the line.”

Ryan might actually have a point, although he wouldn’t tell him so. Only there were a couple of problems with his scenario.

One was that he was no Ryan, able to turn on the Flanagan charm at a moment’s notice.

And the other was that Nolie Lang wasn’t plain. Somehow his image of her had changed over the afternoon. In her own setting, Nolie had metamorphosed. He saw again her tenderness as she worked with the child. Pictured the passion in her eyes when she defended her work.

No, Nolie was definitely not plain. But she was definitely trouble.

Nolie spotted the car pull into her lane the next afternoon as she finished her session with Danny. At least Gabe had come. And on time, so she could get on with her goal for the day.

Two goals, she amended. The first was to get him to bond with his dog—a professional goal, one she understood how to approach.

However, she also had a personal goal, and that was trickier. She had to stop herself from responding to his sheer animal magnetism.

Claire, of course, had picked up on that instantly the day before. Given how their friendship had begun, Claire could honestly say she knew more about Nolie than anyone, and she’d seen that betraying flush. Claire had insisted that Gabe felt something, too, claiming she could always tell.

Well, certainly Claire dated more than she did, but that didn’t make her an authority on someone like Gabe Flanagan. A lot of emotions welled up when an active, driven man like Gabe had to confront a life-changing injury. That didn’t mean any of those emotions had to do with attraction.

She hadn’t felt anything, and neither had he. That was what she told Claire, and what she kept telling herself. Unfortunately Claire hadn’t believed it.

And as for her—well, if she believed herself, why then was she wearing a knit sweater with her jeans instead of her usual T-shirt? And why had she bothered touching up her lips with lip gloss and letting her hair swing loose on her shoulders?

Claire’s acid comments about her everyday attire came back to her, making her smile.

If you won’t dress a little better for Flanagan, then at least have pity on those poor chickens. It’s a wonder they’ll lay a single egg, having to look at you in that ragged T-shirt every day.

Well, she hoped the chickens were happy. When Claire called later for a report on the day, she could at least say she’d taken her fashion advice.

“Nolie?” Danny tugged on her arm. “Do you think I could meet him?”

“I don’t see why not.” She waved at Danny’s mother, who waited by her van, then wheeled him toward Gabe.

He leaned against the car door, apparently talking to his sister, but he straightened at their approach.

Nothing. You feel nothing, remember?

“Hi. I have someone here who wants to meet you.”

Gabe’s eyes seemed to darken, and she remembered too late his reaction when she’d suggested he talk to Danny about his seizure disorder.

“Danny, this is Gabriel Flanagan.”

“Hi, Danny. It’s nice to meet you.” Whatever he felt, he masked it as he held out his hand.

It was a long moment until Danny got his muscles to cooperate so that he could extend his hand. To his credit, Gabe didn’t show by the smallest flicker that he noticed that. Gabe made some comment about Lady, and they talked dogs as she bent to the car window to greet Terry.

Gabe’s sister was on the cell phone, but she smiled and waved.

By the time Nolie had straightened, Danny’s mother was wheeling the boy away. She could tell by the boy’s beaming face that it had gone well.

Terry leaned across the front seat to get Gabe’s attention. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been called in to work. I’ll try and reach Mom to pick you up.”

“Mom’s going out this afternoon.” Gabe’s mouth tightened in annoyance, she suspected, that he had to depend on others for something as simple as a ride. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll manage.”

“You have to have a ride.” Terry obviously felt torn.

“I have to go into town later anyway,” Nolie said. “I can easily drop you off.”

She didn’t want to make the offer, and he probably didn’t want to accept it. Spending more time in the man’s company was hardly the best way to get over the random attraction she’d imagined she felt. But she couldn’t very well do anything else.

“Thanks, Nolie. That’s great.” Terry seemed to take her brother’s acceptance for granted. “Gotta go.” She barely waited until Nolie stepped back before she gunned the motor and went spinning out of the lane.

“Sorry.” Gabe waved goodbye to Danny as they drove by more sedately. “My sister seems to have left her manners at home.”

“It’s fine. I’m happy to run you by the house when we’ve finished.”

Another half hour in his company. Well, she’d figure out a way to deal with it. Maybe being around him would inoculate her against all that masculine energy.

“Thanks.”

The word came out reluctantly, and she thought she knew why. Gabe didn’t want to feel indebted to her for anything.

She started walking toward the training center, and he fell into step beside her. That faint limp was still there, audible if not visible to anyone who knew enough to pay attention to the rhythm of his steps.

“I hope you don’t mind my introducing you to Danny. He asked to meet you.”

“No problem. But why did he want to meet me?” He frowned. “You didn’t tell him—”

“I didn’t tell him about your seizure disorder.” She used the words deliberately, hoping frequent use might rob them of some of their sting.

“Then why?”

“Surely you’ve run into that before. To a little kid, especially one like Danny who can’t get around much, a firefighter is someone to look up to. I’m afraid he has a bad case of hero-worship.”

She felt his steps halt, saw the tension drive lines deeper in his face. “He shouldn’t,” he said shortly.

He’d reacted before to that word. Maybe she’d better bring this out into the open. If they were to have any sort of a working relationship, she didn’t want to keep tripping over things that bothered him.

“I’ve obviously said the wrong thing. Is it some sort of faux pas to refer to a firefighter as a hero—one of those things every firefighter knows?”

“No.” His eyes had gone so dark they were almost black. “But if you want to call someone a hero, make it one of the firefighters who died in that warehouse fire. They were the heroes, not me.”

Her breath caught at the pain etched into his words. He’d known those men who died, obviously. Still grieved for them. She reached toward him almost involuntarily, wanting to comfort him, not knowing how.

“I’m sorry.” Her throat went tight on the words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He shook his head, as if to shake off her sympathy. “Not your fault.” He grasped her hands in both of his suddenly, and the sensation of his touch traveled straight up her arms in a warming wave, wiping out all the rational things she’d been saying to herself about the attraction she felt.

“Still, I—” Whatever she might have intended to say seemed to get lost in a welter of reaction.

“Look, I’m no hero. I’m just a man with a job to do. If you want to help me, make sure I go back to work. I’m over this seizure thing. I’m ready.”

Her mind started to function again. He wanted her help, but not the help she was qualified to give.

“I’m sorry.” She pulled her hands free. “It’s not up to me. You know that.”

“It could be.” He didn’t attempt to touch her again, but the intensity of his gaze nailed her to the spot. “The chief might listen to you if you told him I’m okay. That I’m ready to go back on the line.”

He was grasping at straws, but she doubted he was ready to hear that.

“First things first.” She tried to manage a cool smile. “We’re here to do a job. Let’s get on with that and put going back to work on the back burner for a while.”

She thought he wanted to flare out at her, but he didn’t. Instead he gave her a look she couldn’t interpret. “I understand. You’re right. Let’s get started.”

He turned toward the training center. She had to hurry to keep up, because her mind was spinning with possibilities.

What if Gabe was right about himself? If his seizures really were a thing of the past, he was no good to her as a test case. She had to get a handle on his physical condition, and soon.

And then there was the personal problem. What on earth was she going to do with this totally inappropriate attraction she felt every time she was near the man?

He’d blown it. Gabe was still berating himself as Nolie put him and Max through a series of obedience exercises in the training center she’d set up in a converted garage. Her voice echoed through the wide space as she gave him directions. A barn swallow, apparently nesting in the rafters, swooped out the open door at the sound.

He shouldn’t have rushed into telling her what he wanted. He should have taken it easy, let her warm up to him. Rationally presented his arguments.

Instead he’d blurted it out, making it almost inevitable that she’d say no.

He didn’t intend to take Ryan’s advice and try to charm the woman. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be friendly. Let her feel she was getting to know him. Get her on his side.

As for what he was going to do with that totally inappropriate blast of attraction he’d felt when he’d held her hands—well, that was probably a good thing to ignore. She wasn’t his type. And at the moment, she was a very effective barrier to his getting what he wanted most in the world.

He and Max reached the end of the obstacle course. He waited for her to tell him what totally useless thing she wanted him to do next.

“Reward your dog,” she reminded him in the same detached, calm tone she’d used the first four times she’d had to tell him that.

“Yes. Right.” He gave the dog one of the treats Nolie had provided and patted him.

Nolie crossed the concrete floor to join them, frowning slightly.

“What?” She obviously thought he’d done something wrong. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember.”

“It’s not that.” She fondled Max’s ears, and the dog looked up at her with a totally besotted expression of adoration. “Do you understand why I’m having you do obedience exercises with Max?”

He shrugged. He could hardly tell her again that he thought the whole thing was useless.

He thought she suppressed a sigh.

“Let’s go out in the sun and take a break. There are some things you need to understand about the training.”

Max stuck to Nolie’s heels as if he were attached. He followed woman and dog outside.

An old-fashioned porch swing hung from the branch of an oak tree at the corner of the training center. Nolie sat and waited until he took the seat next to her. The swing creaked gently, swaying a little.

Nolie rubbed Max’s head. “Max has already gone through obedience training. Haven’t you, Maxie?”

He gave her a wide doggy grin.

“So the obedience training is for me.” He said the obvious. She probably thought he needed a little obedience training.

A smile touched her face, softening it. The eyes he’d thought a pale, nondescript blue the day before had been turned to aqua by the sweater she had on.

“Not exactly. The training is for both of you. It’s to allow the two of you to get used to working together. More importantly, to let you bond with Max.”

He didn’t need to bond with the dog, because they weren’t going to be together that long. But now was probably not the time to say that. He ruffled the dog’s fur, and Max leaned against his knee.

“He’s a good-looking animal. Purebred?” He’d show interest, not agreement.

“Max is mostly yellow lab, but I wouldn’t venture a guess as to what the other part is. All my service dogs come from the humane society. They’re abandoned animals who need a chance to prove they can be useful.”

She said that with a passion he didn’t quite understand. There was a lot he didn’t understand about Nolie, come to think of it.

“So, once Max and I have bonded to your satisfaction, what comes next?” Supposing he had to stick around that long. “What’s your time frame?”

Worry lines creased her forehead. “We only have a month. Still, I’m usually working with children, and it should go faster with an adult. I’d suggest that this week and next week we do obedience work and then put in two weeks of intensive live-in training.”

“Live-in? Not in the cottage?”

He glanced toward the cottage she’d shown him the day before. White frame with black shutters like the house. It had rosebushes on either side of the black front door. A yellow rambler rose was already coming into bloom on a trellis over the walk. It looked like a kid’s playhouse.

“Yes, I know it’s small, but I’m sure you’ll do fine.” The brisk assurance in her voice said that this was non-negotiable. “You and the dog have to live together during the intensive training. That twenty-four-hour-a-day experience is crucial to the whole process.”

He got what she meant then, and he didn’t like it. “You mean you’re hoping I’ll have a seizure during that time, don’t you?”

“Not hoping, no.” Her brows furrowed, and she seemed to choose her words carefully. “I hope you never have another one. But if you do, that’s the test of whether Max will live up to my belief in him.”

“There’s no guarantee, in other words,” he said flatly. “This could all be useless.”

“It’s not useless. I can guarantee you that when we’ve finished training together, Max will do his job in protecting you should a seizure occur. The question is whether he’ll know the seizure is coming and warn you.”

Passion for her work filled her as she said the words, so strong he almost felt its heat. The face he’d thought plain was alive with enthusiasm. He wanted to tell her again that he wasn’t going to have another seizure, but she swept on.

“The foundation wanted scientific proof, and there isn’t any. But it happens. I’ve seen it happen. When the bond between dog and client is strong enough, the dog knows when a seizure is coming.”

He couldn’t help being moved by the strength of her conviction. No one could. He leaned toward her, his hand on her shoulder, feeling the passion that flooded through her for her cause.

Nolie wanted to be sure a bond formed between him and the dog, so that she could prove her theories to the foundation. He wanted to create a bond between himself and Nolie, so that he could get her on his side.

The trouble was that if he sat this close to her for another moment, he’d probably kiss her. What would that do to either of their plans?

Chapter Four

Nolie walked through the chrome-and-glass doors of the fire-department administrative offices the next morning, trying to concentrate on the mission that had brought her here. Unfortunately her wayward imagination kept transporting her back to those moments on the swing with Gabe.

She’d given away too much of herself to him. She didn’t do that with anyone except Claire, and that was only because she and Claire had found each other in a support group for abuse survivors.

The support group hadn’t wiped away the dark shadows of her past, but it had given her an amazing friend. She was constantly grateful for that.

Claire was safe. She could tell Claire anything and know that it would never be used against her. But Gabe—

Gabe was so intent on his passion to return to fire fighting that she didn’t think he’d stop at much to get there. Including using her, if he thought it would be to his advantage.

Had he seen, when she’d talked about the stray animals she trained, that she equated herself with those abandoned creatures? She had to find a way to keep her guard up with him, or he’d trample over her on his way back to the life he wanted.

And that wasn’t 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 chief’s name. She had to get an unbiased opinion about Gabe, and she certainly couldn’t get that from his family.

The Flanagan family’s overflowing love would probably make them support him if he declared that the sky was pink with orange polka dots. She couldn’t imagine what that must be like—to 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 aunt’s voice whispered in her memory.

Taking a breath, she concentrated on the blinking light that showed the floors. Whatever her aunt had believed, she wasn’t worthless. She was doing good work, and she’d do even more once she had the grant. So she wasn’t about to give up on Gabe Flanagan, no matter how much he’d 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 isn’t in right now. Can I help you?”

“I don’t 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 wouldn’t believe her if she said no. She nodded.

“Maybe I can help, unless it’s something official.” His smile was deprecating. “Even though I’m the department chaplain, they don’t really trust me with official business.”

He didn’t look much like a chaplain in his rumpled khakis and navy pullover. He might be another of the young firefighters she’d 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, I’m 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 certainly…supportive, I guess you could say.”

“I’m not sure that’s what Gabe would say, but it’ll do.” He gestured toward the end of the hall. “There’s a break room here. I’ll get you a cup of coffee, and you can tell me what you need to know about my cousin.”

She didn’t 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, wasn’t 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 she’d have expected, probably because he didn’t look like any minister she’d ever met, not that she’d 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.

“I’m trying to find the best way to work with Gabe,” she said carefully. She had to keep in mind that this was Gabe’s cousin. “So far I’m finding that he’s—”

She stopped. Too attractive for his own good? Too appealing to be alone with? She didn’t 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 chief—well, I know he has a desk job lined up for Gabe, in the event he can’t 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 didn’t surprise her.

“He’s certainly determined to get back to work. So much so that I’m afraid it’s influencing his attitude toward working with me.”

Brendan grinned. “You mean he’s so bullheaded that he can’t see anything but his own objective.”

“Something like that.”

“You have to understand.” He leaned across the table toward her, eyes intent. “Gabe’s a warrior. Always has been. An old-fashioned knight in shining armor rushing to rescue the helpless. That’s 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 can’t be a firefighter—” He stopped and shook his head, his eyes dark and serious. “If Gabe can’t be a firefighter, I don’t think he’ll know who he is.”

Brendan’s words were still ringing in Nolie’s 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 she’d expected, on several counts.

She’d gotten over her instinctive need to escape from him. She hadn’t even winced when he’d taken her hand and told her he’d be praying for her.

And he’d given her a glimmer of an idea. His description of Gabe as a knight rescuing the helpless had clicked into place. Of course that’s what he was—a 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 she’d 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 lilac’s aroma perfumed the air.

A perfect spring day—meant 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.

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