“Ouch.” His disappointment was palpable. “Guess that puts me in my place. Again.”
Guilt hit, but not enough to make her change her mind. This was for her and Greyson’s good. They didn’t need another adrenaline junkie in their lives. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. No harm done. I just thought you could use a friend. That, and I thought I saw something when our eyes met that day at the school. Maybe I only saw what I wanted to see.”
“You apparently have a vivid imagination.” He hadn’t imagined anything, but there was no point in telling him that. He fought fires for a living, rode a Harley, and jumped out of airplanes for fun. Could there be a worse fit for her as a friend...or otherwise?
“Apparently,” he agreed, studying her. “Because I also thought you missed me and were glad to see me today.”
“Why in the world would you think that? Like I said, vivid imagination. I’ve got to get back to work,” she said, knowing he wasn’t buying a word of what she was saying. “One of my patients may need me.”
“They look pretty content.” Andrew glanced around the community room. “You should stay. After the usual carols are sung, I’ll be taking requests. My grandma wants me to play some Elvis Christmas songs. Have anything you’d like to hear?”
“Nothing,” she denied, wondering if he’d be singing solos or leading the group while he played his guitar. “How do you know my patients are the content ones?”
“I watched you bring them in, Morgan. Look,” he gestured to them one by one. “This is the best time they’ve had all day.”
He was right. Doris was smiling and chatting to anyone who would listen. Lucille was humming along to music that played over the intercom system. John was sitting in his chair and watching Maybelle, looking happier than he had since his admission. The others watched the activities with interest.
“I still need to get back to work. I’m on the clock. I should be with my patients, not talking to you.”
He held up his hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get in your way at work.”
Ugh. She was coming across as such a fuddy-duddy. That wasn’t who she wanted to be, but how did she explain that a friendship with him scared her?
“You’re not,” she relented. “It’s just...nothing.” Heat flooded her face. “Have a good day, Andrew.”
As she walked away, she could feel his gaze and fought turning around to tell him to stop.
“Tell Greyson I said hi,” he called after her.
Without turning, Morgan gave a thumbs up.
“And if you have any fires you need put out,” he continued, “you know who to ask.”
The only fire Morgan needed put out was the one that blazed in her cheeks.
Chapter Five
“We don’t really have to sew, do we?” Ben asked as Andrew drove the fire truck into Pine Hill Church’s parking lot for the local Quilts of Valor Foundation Sew-In. So far it had been a slow Saturday, but just in case they needed to get somewhere fast, they were ready.
“There will be volunteers to teach you anything you’re willing to learn,” Cole answered from the passenger seat.
“Don’t we need machines?” Ben continued, not sounding sure about spending the day at a sewing event.
“The machines are already there. I helped Sophie and a few other volunteers set up most of the day yesterday. Her quilting machine alone took me about six hours to get moved and set up.” Cole tapped his fingers on the dashboard. “There are plenty of extra sewing machines. I thought Sophie just had so many because she owned a quilt shop, but apparently lots of folks have two, or more, in this town and were happy to share them.”
Andrew had loaded his grandma’s machines into her car for her a couple of nights ago. She’d upgraded a few times over the years, but she never let her old faithfuls go as long as they still worked. There would be plenty of extra machines for anyone wanting to jump in to help.
Ben shrugged, then glanced at where Andrew watched them, his hands on the steering wheel still despite having killed the engine. “You’re being suspiciously quiet.”
Eyes narrowing, Cole eyed him. “He’s right. What’s up?”
Andrew shook his head. “Just listening to you two.”
“Oh, wait, I get it now.” Ben nudged Cole’s arm. “Our friend is saving his breath for all the hot air he’s going to blow toward Morgan Morris. He’s hoping third time’s a charm, am I right?”
Andrew rolled his eyes, then got out of the truck to head toward the church’s community room entrance. The wind whipped at his jacket, but the temperature was mild for November. It would have been a great day for taking Big Bertha on a spin through the Kentucky hills if he hadn’t had other plans.
