The Fireman's Homecoming

The Fireman's Homecoming
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Black Sheep Son Nothing about going home to Gordon Falls is easy for fireman Clark Braden. His role as local bad boy is firmly established, though he’s determined to use his newfound faith to change people’s minds. But Clark isn’t the only one coming home to hard times.When Melba Wingate came home from Chicago to help her ailing father, she wasn’t expecting to unravel a family secret. As Melba wades through the past to find the truth about her father, Clark becomes an unlikely ally. And while neither can change the past, the future is theirs to shape.Gordon Falls: Hearts ablaze in a small town

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Black Sheep Son

Nothing about going home to Gordon Falls is easy for fireman Clark Bradens. His role as local bad boy is firmly established, though he’s determined to use his newfound faith to change people’s minds. But Clark isn’t the only one coming home to hard times. When Melba Wingate came home from Chicago to help her ailing father, she wasn’t expecting to unravel a family secret. As Melba wades through the past to find the truth about her father, Clark becomes an unlikely ally. And while neither can change the past, the future is theirs to shape.

“I never pegged you for the kind to come back home.”

It had to come up sooner or later. Clark sighed. He still hadn’t come up with a graceful way to answer comments like that. “It’s not a new story. Bad boy goes off to the big city to find new ways to be bad, hits bottom, comes home a changed man.” Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking that sounded arrogant. “Or hopes he comes home a changed man. I’m still ironing out the kinks, as you already know.”

“I think I remember hearing something about an accident. Was that the bottom you hit?” Melba asked.

Calling that night an accident was like calling an earthquake a bump in the road. It wasn’t the kind of thing Clark could share with just anyone, despite the warm look in Melba’s eyes. She was dealing with her life tilting in a different direction, and he knew what that felt like. Maybe that was why he felt so drawn to her.

ALLIE PLEITER

Enthusiastic but slightly untidy mother of two, RITA® Award finalist Allie Pleiter writes both fiction and nonfiction. An avid knitter and unreformed chocoholic, she spends her days writing books, drinking coffee and finding new ways to avoid housework.Allie grew up in Connecticut, holds a B.S. in speech from Northwestern University and spent fifteen years in the field of professional fund-raising. She lives with her husband, children and a Havanese dog named Bella in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois.

The Fireman’s Homecoming

Allie Pleiter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and

make you strong, firm and steadfast.

—1 Peter 5:10

For the tireless, compassionate caregivers

serving their loved ones every day— you are God’s finest heroes of the heart.

Chapter One

Melba Wingate pushed the button on the hospital cafeteria vending machine again. Please, Lord, I know this is Gordon Falls, but would it be too much to ask You to somehow send a grilled smoked gouda sandwich? She peered without hope into the little mechanized windows rotating toward her. Sad, sanitary wedges of breaded ham and tuna salad stuttered into view. Those, and something labeled as—but barely resembling—turkey. It had been a long day, and her last meal had been two packages of cheese crackers from this machine six hours ago. She sighed and let her head fall against the cold hum of the machine window.

“No use looking for actual food in there.”

Melba turned to see a man leaning against the hallway wall, one of the offending wedges in his hand with a single bite taken out of it. “I don’t recommend the tuna. I’m not even sure I’d recommend the bread.”

In dark pants and an official-looking white shirt, the man looked vaguely familiar. She felt as if she ought to know him by his red hair, but couldn’t place the face. Just as she made out the name on his shirt badge, he extended a hand and said, “Clark Bradens.” After a moment, he cocked his head to one side and said, “Aren’t you...?” just as Melba said her name.

“Right.” He nodded. “Mort’s your dad. I heard you’d come back to town.”

The familiar face and red hair made instant sense. She offered what she hoped was a grin and pointed to his name badge. “You were two years ahead of me in high school. George is your dad.”

He took a final begrudging look at the sandwich and tossed it into a nearby garbage can. “I heard they brought Mort in here the other day. Everything okay?”

“Some bug hit him hard, but he’ll be fine.” She clutched her stomach, embarrassed at the loud growl it gave off. “I was trying to scare up some dinner, but I don’t think I have too many edible options beside a Snickers bar here.”

“You remember Dellio’s just down the street? Not too many problems in this world can’t be improved with their good cheeseburgers, and it’d be a quick trip.”

Dellio’s had been a favorite of hers in high school, and while she didn’t do cheeseburgers anymore, their fries could still taunt her from half a mile away. Melba salivated. “I don’t eat meat. Anymore, I mean. And I can’t really leave Dad.”



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