“What do you think of Miss Hightower?”
A small smile lifted a corner of his mouth. “What do you mean?”
Was he teasing her? He must have some idea as to what she was referring to. “Do you frequently accept her lunches?”
That smile tilted into a smirk. “Only when I’m hungry.”
She pursed her lips. Was he purposefully being obtuse? Did he have feelings for Constance or not? “I had a rather delicious dinner today, one more substantial than bread and cheese. In future, I could bring you—”
“No. That’s not necessary. The foreman and I typically go out for our meals.” His smirk disappeared, and he cleared his throat. “Let’s begin your training.”
He wouldn’t accept a meal from her, but he’d been taking them from Constance on occasion? She clenched her hands into fists but tamped down her irritation. “Of course. Let’s begin.”
Jack nodded and led the way to a stack of clothing lying on the floor. A firefighter’s leather helmet rested on top. He picked up the pile and swept his gaze over her from the hat perched on her head to the hemline of her lilac skirt. A shiver raced through her at his brief inspection. Having his complete and utter attention was a pleasure she’d not soon forget.
He held out the clothing. “Unfortunately, we don’t have any uniforms in your size, so this will have to do.”
She sorted through the items—a woolen coat, shirt, and trousers, as well as the helmet. Did Jack intend for her to wear all this, even the trousers? She stared into his eyes, searching for the answer.
He merely shrugged. “I realize this uniform is missing boots, but we didn’t have any that would fit you.”
Did he hope to meet resistance to wearing this garb? If he did, he was sorely mistaken. She surveyed the area around them. “Is there a place I can change?” She’d only taken a few steps in the direction of the stairway when Jack snagged her arm, stopping her.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Mattie.”
“What, Jack?” she asked. At his expression of frustration, she smiled. “Why would you give me these clothes if you didn’t want me to wear them?” Did he honestly believe she would be so indignant she would leave? She suppressed a laugh. What a foolish man.
He growled low in his throat and snatched the shirt and trousers from her hands. “Just use the coat and helmet.”
“All right.” Smiling inwardly, she set aside the helmet and slipped on the long, heavy coat, its sleeves extending past her hands. She intentionally fumbled with the fabric as she attempted to roll back the sleeves.
Expelling a harsh breath, Jack brushed away her hand and rolled up the sleeves himself. His fingers grazed her wrist as he yanked the material into place. He stood so close his heat warmed her. She took in his intoxicating scent, a mixture of soap and masculinity. Then she feasted on the sight of his strong jaw and the intensity of his impossibly blue eyes. When his gaze lifted and those eyes stared directly into hers, her heart sped. His hands stilled for a moment, his focus lowering to her lips. She held her breath, afraid to move lest she ruin the moment. Would he kiss her? She couldn’t help herself. She leaned toward him ever so slightly … and he tensed.
Jerking at the coat sleeves, he completed the task of rolling the heavy fabric and stepped back. Blast! She should have controlled herself better. Inwardly cursing herself, she went to work securing one of the two rows of brass buttons down the front of the coat, a coat that almost reached her hemline. The thought of deliberately fumbling the buttons crossed her mind, but she cast it aside. She’d already tried that scheme once. If she did it again, Jack might call to question her motor skills.
Now then, the helmet. She quickly untied the ribbon and set aside her hat, placing the leather helmet on her head instead. There. She held out her arms. “How do I look?”
Something flashed in his eyes … exasperation?
“It doesn’t matter how you look. What matters is if you can work properly in the equipment required for the job.”
The coat was quite weighty, but she was no weakling. “What do you want me to do?”
Jack dropped to the floor and sprawled out. “How about you rescue me?”
Mattie blinked, at a loss. “Rescue you?”
He nodded. “As if you found me unconscious in a burning building.”
“If I found you in a burning building, my best course would be to have others help me carry you out.”
He leaned up on one elbow and gazed back at her. “Ah, but your fellow firefighters are busy with other victims. It’s up to you to save my life,” he insisted, lying down again.
She stepped closer. “What do I do?”
“For a full-grown man, I’d grab him about the torso and drag him toward the exit.” He pointed to a spot behind her. “We’ll say the exit is only five feet away.”
She crouched down behind him and extended her hands but hesitated. Grab him about the torso? His back was on the floor. “I’m not sure I can visualize what you’re asking of me.”
“Then I’ll show you.” He jumped to his feet and gestured for her to take the position he’d left.
She lowered herself to the floor and lay back.
In short order, he lifted her by the shoulders, wrapped his arms around her middle, and pulled her backward across the floor. His hands on her, even over the coat, and the strength he put into the motion … a fluttering sensation invaded her chest. Exhilarating!
He released her all too soon.
“Now it’s your turn,” he said as he resumed his position on the floor.
Very well. She regulated her breathing and got to her feet. Bending down, she grabbed his shoulders, attempting to lift them up far enough to wrap her arms around his torso. His eyes closed, he was a dead weight in her hands. She dropped to her knees and struggled to get him into a sitting position. The heat of the wool became oppressive as she circled her arms around his chest and pulled. He didn’t budge.
She regained her feet and yanked harder. Good heavens, he was heavy! He barely moved. She dragged in gasps of air and tried again.
A low laugh came from the direction of the fire engine. “What’s all this?” a man asked.
Jack flinched and unclasped her hands from around him, his attention darting to the well-dressed gentleman who stood mere feet away, his hat in his hand. “Clark, what are you doing here?” Jack asked.
Clark appeared to be about Jack’s age, his unruly dark hair almost obscuring one eye. His admiring stare swept over her. “I believe the more pertinent question is what are you doing here?”
Jack cleared his throat and rose to his feet, his cheeks reddening a bit. He motioned toward Mattie, who also stood. “I’m training our new recruit.”
Clark’s head jerked back in surprise, and he smiled. “New recruit? I hadn’t heard.” He stepped closer, his eyes sparkling. “I may have to start spending more time at the station.”
Taking one step to the side, Jack placed himself between her and Clark. “No, you don’t.”
Clark’s smile broadened, and he approached her, going around Jack. “Come now. Make the introductions. If we’re to be colleagues, I should know who she is.”
Jack frowned. “Miss Matilda Duncan, this is Mr. Clark Whitman,” he said grudgingly.