Free Safe in the Fireman's Arms by Tina Radcliffe

“And he didn’t love me.”
    “I’m sorry, Maggie,” Jake said.
    He searched her eyes, seeing the pain. “Better you realized before the wedding, right?”
    She met his gaze. “Of course, but I’m not upset about the breakup. Actually I’m relieved about that. I’m upset that I spent so many years trying to please others instead of myself.”
    “Take my advice, sometimes all you can do is make peace with the past and move on.”
    “I’m still working on that part.”
    The ringing of a phone interrupted the silence that stretched between them.
    “Your phone?”
    Maggie turned around and grabbed her cell from the counter. “Hello? Yes. This is Margaret Jones.”
    A tiny gasp escaped her lips and her brown eyes lit up.
    “Thank you so much. Yes. I will. Absolutely. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
    Jake raised his brows in question. “Good news?”
    “That was the county school board. They got my résumé and they want me to come in for an interview tomorrow.”
    “There’s a job opening? How did you find out about it?”
    “Beck told me. It’s a temporary teaching position at the high school. I emailed my résumé over yesterday.” The excitement that bubbled over was contagious.
    “And the college professor from Denver would consider teaching at a high school in Paradise?”
    “Of course.”
    Of course.
    “That’s great. Congratulations, Maggie.”
    “I don’t have the job yet.”
    “Oh, I’ll be praying.”
    “Will you?” she asked, her head tilted so her ponytail hung askew.
    “Sure will.”
    Maggie staying in Paradise? He wrapped his mind around the idea, liking it more and more. Oh, yeah. He’d be praying.
    He met her gaze and smiled, then looked away, forcing himself to concentrate on the pie instead of the woman across the table from him, because in a stunning instant he realized that he’d been right all along. Maggie Jones held the power to do some serious damage to his heart and that fact rocked him.

Chapter Six
    B ells chimed as Maggie pushed open the door to the Hair Emporium on Main Street. Immediately the buzz of conversations came to a sudden halt and whiplash moved through the shop like the wave at a football game.
    Women popped their heads out from beneath the dryer hoods and craned their necks. At a far sink, a technician shampooing someone’s hair peeked around a large woman with pink sponge rollers in an effort to assess Maggie. A manicurist seated against the wall swiped fuchsia enamel across a patron’s nail and looked up and over her bifocals. All eyes were focused on the door.
    The pungent and unmistakable scent of a perm in progress wrapped itself around Maggie’s throat and tightened. She swallowed before taking a tentative step into the room. Where was Susan?
    From across the busy shop, a petite woman in a white lab coat moved through the activity toward Maggie.
    Self-confidence .
    And this woman owned it. Her heels clicked on the linoleum as she approached. The name Sally-Anne was stitched in black on the pocket of her pristine jacket. Her glossy black hair framed her face in a short, banged bob that swung back and then forth as she propelled her lithe frame forward.
    Sally-Anne’s age seemed impossible to determine—somewhere between forty and...forty? The woman was flawless, from her perfect makeup to her impeccable French manicured fingertips.
    “Maggie Jones.” She gave a short nod. “Sally-Anne.”
    “How did you know who I am?”
    Sally-Anne smiled and pointed to the newspaper on the counter. “You’ve made the front page. Again. Twice in less than seven days.”
    “I didn’t realize anyone was counting.”
    “Welcome to Paradise.” She gestured with a wave of her arm, toward the window of the shop. “And you’ve met Chief MacLaughlin.”
    “Yes, but...” Panic hit Maggie. Surely the woman didn’t think... “Those fires were accidents,” she finally said.
    “I’m sure they were.” The other woman offered an indulgent smile as she