Hearts over Bellham
By Danita Cahill
Hillary Johnson clung to the ladder
hoisted thirty feet over Main Street as another gust of January wind shrieked
through the rungs.
What
was I thinking?
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath,
and glanced down at the handsome, concerned face gazing up at her. The reason
she’d agreed to string lighted hearts over the town of Bellham, Oregon came whirling
back to her. Tim
Jacobs.
She wanted a chance to work with Tim, to
impress him.
“You okay?” Tim hollered. “Wind’s
getting pretty fierce. You better come down now.”
Hillary gripped the fire truck ladder
tighter. “Yes, I’m okay.” No, I’m not.
“I’m almost done.” If I can make myself
release the ladder with one hand, so I can finish hanging this last string...
It wasn’t right for a Bellham Fire
District firefighter to fear heights, and Hillary was determined to beat her
fear.
When the town acquired the Valentine’s
decorations, fire chief Darren Holt asked for volunteers to hang them. Tim’s
hand shot up with Hillary’s hand only a split second behind. Stupid hand.
And now here she was, clinging to a
ladder for dear life, high above the hard, unforgiving blacktop, all because
she’d let her heart, instead of her head, control her hand. Stupid heart.
When Tim moved
to Bellham three years ago he immediately stole Hillary’s heart. It wasn’t his tall,
good looks – although those didn’t hurt any. It was Tim’s calm, quiet
confidence that hit her like an arrow from Cupid’s bow.
A month later, Tim
joined the fire department. Hillary’s heart – the stupid, blood-pumping muscle
responsible for getting her into this terrifying predicament – had flipped
cartwheels of joy.
But things
hadn’t progressed the way Hillary envisioned. Tim was friendly to her, as he
was to everyone, but he didn’t seem to notice her the way she noticed him –
with her entire heart and soul.
Now the tables
had turned in her favor. Here he was, staring up at her, concerned and worried.
“Only two more
hooks to go!” Hillary yelled without looking down. Looking down – with the
combination of height, and Tim’s handsome face – made her heart beat
dangerously fast.
I
have to do this. Prove to Tim I can, and more importantly, prove it to myself.
She eased one hand off the ladder and quickly suspended the string of hearts
from the second-to-the-last hook.
Another burst of
wind howled past, and Hillary grabbed the shuddering ladder with both hands. Panic
leaped from her chest into her throat. Mentally she lashed at it, fighting it
down.
I
can do it. I’m almost done. Stretching trembling
fingers overhead, she attempted to attach the hearts to the last hook. But she
couldn’t quite reach. I hate being short. She readjusted her grip on the
ladder, stood on her toes, and stretched her arm, hand, and fingers as high as possible.
A wind gust shook the string of hearts in her hand, rattling her nerves. She
gripped the ladder with both hands again, whitening her knuckles.
“I can get that
last one if you can’t reach it,” Tim said.
Can’t?
That word didn’t belong in Hillary’s vocabulary.
She released the
ladder with one hand, stretching and straining to reach the last hook. Half an
inch more and she’d have it…a quarter of an inch… She sucked in a breath,
expanding her lungs and ribcage for that extra fraction of extension… She slipped
the light string over the last hook and wrapped it on tight.
“You did it!”
Tim said. “Need help getting down?”
Yes.
”No.”
Cautiously, Hillary
made her way down the ladder and off the truck until she was standing in the
street next to Tim. She looked up at the hearts strung high over Main Street. Her
pulse jack hammered with fear and pride.
“Awesome job,”
Tim said, cuffing her on the back of her fire turn outs as if she were one of
the guys.
I’m
not one of the guys. I’m a woman in love. Ask me out.
“What are you
doing later, around three-thirty?”
He
asked me out! Don’t blow it. Be smooth. “No big plans.”
“We could grab a
coffee. Hang around until dusk when the hearts should automatically come on.
Check them out in the dark.”
Hillary’s
heart fell. It wasn’t a date, it was fire department business. “Yeah, sure. Okay.”
***
Tim was early.
He waited for Hillary on the Main Street sidewalk holding two coffees.
Hillary pulled
up. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey, yourself,”
Tim said handing her a cup. He looked up. Red, pink, and white hearts swayed
and danced in the wind. “They look good, huh?”
Hillary tipped
her head back. “They do. I hope they don’t blow away.”
“I think we
wrapped the ends tight enough.”
“I hope so.”
Tim scanned
Hillary’s features. She was cute, with a round face, and a small, upturned nose.
Her brown hair hung halfway down her back. She wasn’t his usual type. He
generally found himself drawn to tall blondes. But there was something about
Hillary that kept pulling him in. Today he’d really noticed her. Not just as a fellow
firefighter, but as a woman. It was her bravery up there on the ladder with the
wind howling all around that did it – really proved what she was made of.
He knew she’d
felt afraid. But that’s what courage was all about – doing it despite being
scared. Today Hillary had earned his respect.
“It’s been
getting dark around four,” Tim said.
“Sounds about
right,” Hillary said taking a sip of coffee.
Dusk settled.
Hillary and Tim waited. Buzzing sounded overhead. They looked up, watching as
the over-sized plastic hearts glowed. Dim at first, then brighter.
“They’re
beautiful,” Hillary said.
Bellham was
famous for its strings of chiming bells over Main Street during the holiday
season, making Christmas an extra magical time of year. The lighted hearts affected
Tim in a similar way.
“You’re beautiful,” Tim said. “Brave and
beautiful.” He bent, touching Hillary’s nose with his. His lips brushed hers.
Once. Twice.
Hillary smiled,
dimpling one cheek. Her deep blue irises reeled Tim in, drew him closer.
He could see the
reflection of the overhead hearts shining back at him in her eyes.
Award-winning writer Danita Cahill lives on a small Oregon farm with her
husband, their two sons, a herd of alpacas, and an assortment of other animals.
She is writing away on several more projects, including more stories in the
Bellham Romance Series.