Kitabı oku: «Through The Fire», sayfa 4

FOUR

“I’ve got to warn you,” Rafe said, taking the jug of tea out of the refrigerator. “It’s sweet tea—a taste I acquired when I was living in North Carolina a few years ago.”

“That’s fine,” Lucia said. “Were you fighting wildfires there?”

Filling the glasses with ice, he nodded. “They were having a drought, and I spent most of the season there.”

“Fires have a season?”

He grinned, that killer dimple flashing. “They do. Brush fires as early as February or March, sometimes, in Florida and southern California. Or late. There was a big fire in the Everglades in November the same year I worked in North Carolina.” He filled the glasses from a pitcher in the refrigerator. “I see you brought my jacket back.”

She glanced down at the coat still clutched in her arms. “Yes.”

He handed her the glass. “I was hoping it would turn up.”

She extended her arm so he could take the jacket. “It looks like you’ve had it a long time.”

“I have.” He set it over the back of a chair and motioned her toward the living room. “It was a gift from my sisters one Christmas.”

“The schoolteacher and the homemaker,” she said, heading for one end of the monstrous black leather couch, where she sat down. Setting the iced tea on the chrome-and-glass coffee table, she slipped off her lightweight coat.

“You remembered,” he said.

She didn’t respond to that, especially since everything from yesterday was vividly etched in her mind. “Your friend that you were visiting when the fire started, how is she—”

“He,” Rafe corrected, cocking his head toward the hallway. “Malik. He was released this morning.” Rafe sat down on the other end of the couch, extending one arm across the back and balancing the iced tea glass on his thigh. “A ladder fell on him during a training exercise, and since he had a concussion to go with the gash over his eye, they wanted to keep him overnight for observation.”

His gaze on her was so thorough that she looked away, noticing details about the room beyond the high-tech, masculine toys. The mostly barren glass and chrome shelves didn’t have a speck of dust—unlike her own oak furniture. There was a picture of Rafe with a couple of pretty women, the kind of photo she would have thought was a posed family picture, except they didn’t look anything like him.

“My sisters,” he said.

She looked back at him.

“I was adopted when I was nine,” he added, as if understanding her unasked question of why there wasn’t a family resemblance, and smoothly moved on to a new subject. “I went by the children’s ward this afternoon to find out how Ramón and Teresa—and their sister—were doing.”

“I did, too,” she said.

“They told me I had just missed you.” His gaze roved over her face.

She smiled. “I was wishing you were with me…or that I spoke Spanish. I couldn’t understand them.”

“They were happy you came to see them,” he said. “Their sister has some rare kind of bone cancer, and she’s going to be in the hospital for a while, so you’ll have other chances to see them.”

“I’m sorry for that. Not that I’ll have a chance to see them, but because their sister is sick. That’s hard—the long wait and not knowing…”

“You’re talking about your father?”

“Yes.” She met his gaze, reassured when she saw only curiosity and compassion in his expression. Speculation about the extent of her father’s injuries and whether he would be able to return to work had dominated the news. Lucia hated the spotlight that her family had been thrust into.

He moved his arm from the back of the couch to take her hand. “Your family has had a rough several months, if the reports on the news are to be believed.”

His touch was warm, offering support that she didn’t quite know what to make of. When she pulled her hand away to once again pick up the glass of iced tea, she had the fleeting thought that a hug from this man would be just as warm, just as supportive. Those were the kinds of thoughts she couldn’t afford, even though she had told Colleen that…maybe…she was ready to move on. The all-too-familiar knot in her stomach reminded her that she was no longer as confident as she once had been or as certain of her own judgment of others. She reminded herself that she had come to return his jacket—that was all. The sooner she drank her tea and left, the better.

Taking a sip of the tea and focusing on the last thing he had mentioned, she said, “You know the news—you have to make it exciting somehow. And the truth is, we’re just waiting for him to wake up, just as we’ve been doing since those first days.”

“Waiting and praying,” he said.

“Yes,” she breathed, her silent admonishment to hurry lost beneath the feeling that Rafe somehow understood. “Exactly that.”

“Then you’re doing all you can.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” she said, setting the glass back on the coffee table.

“Prayers are heard.”

She met his kind gaze once more, feeling as though the ground had subtly shifted beneath her. He had confirmed what she had been taught all her life, what she believed to the depths of her soul. Prayers were heard. One more thing that added to her awareness of him.

“Now then.” He winked at her. “I have a mondo huge favor to ask.”

The butterflies returned as she realized he was flirting with her. “I’m not sure I know you well enough for ‘mondo huge’ favors.”

“I figure being trapped together by a fire means you know me very well,” he said. “My niece’s birthday is coming up, and my sister tells me she’s not old enough for Barbie dolls, which were always my fallback gift for my sisters.”

“A safe choice.” Personally, she hadn’t been that interested in playing with dolls when she was a girl, nor had she had the endless fascination of dressing them that she had seen in her friends.

“And since I’m her only uncle and her godfather—”

“You take your responsibilities seriously.”

His grin widened. “You get the picture. So you’ll go shopping with me?”

“When?” That was a far cry from the “I can’t” she had intended to say.

He glanced at his watch. “No time like the present.”

“But your dinner—”

“It will keep.”

“I’m not sure that I know that much about two-year-olds. Plus…” Plus what? she wondered.

Evidently, he had the same thought because he asked, “Plus?” He stood, picking up the glasses from the coffee table, and headed for the kitchen. Lucia trailed after him, watching as he set the glasses in the sink and turned off the stove.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” she said. “There’s a prayer service for my dad at seven thirty.”

“We have plenty of time. If it runs tight, I’ll go with you. Do you want to take your car or mine?” he asked, coming back toward her, snagging her coat off the end of the couch and holding it up so she could put it on.

She remained fixed on his matter-of-fact announcement that he’d go to the prayer service. The idea of sitting in church with him was one thing, but the idea of him being around her mother and brothers—she’d be setting herself up for questions she wasn’t prepared to think about, much less answer.

So tell the man you can’t go with him, she crossly said to herself. Or tell him that you have to hurry. Instead, she slipped her arms through the sleeves of her jacket. Her silent reminder that she had only wanted to return his coat now seemed hollow…and increasingly like a fib to herself.

“Well?”

Refocusing her thoughts once more and remembering that he’d asked whose car they should take, she admitted to herself that she was way out of her depth.

“If we take my car, are you one of those guys who will want to drive?”

Putting on his own jacket, he said, “Only if you have a BMW Z4.”

Deciding that she probably lived under a rock, at least in the car department, because she had no idea what kind of car that was—she said, “I left it in the garage.”

“Hey, Malik, you can come out now,” Rafe called toward the back of the apartment. “The sloppy joes are done, so help yourself. We’re leaving.”

“Catch you later,” Malik called back.

“It would fit in a normal-size garage, wouldn’t it?” Lucia asked as they went out the door, her initial idea of the vehicle changing from a sports car to some oversize SUV.

Rafe laughed, following her down the stairs. “You’re not into sports cars, hmm?”

She shook her head, walking toward her small SUV.

“A Honda CR-V,” Rafe said, identifying the model of her vehicle and going around to the passenger door. “Sweet. And I can see that you’re a skier,” he added, patting the ski rack on the roof of the vehicle.

“You’re now privy to my weakness,” she said, opening the door and flicking the switch to unlock the passenger door.

“You like to ski?” Rafe’s smile was even wider as he got into the car. When she nodded, he asked, “What’s your favorite run in the state?”

“Timberwolf,” she instantly said, “and then that nice, long, fast ride down Coyote Caper.”

“You ski Keystone,” he said. “Speed and altitude.”

She smiled at him. “In Summit County, altitude is the only thing you’ve got. Where’s your favorite run?”

While she backed out of the parking spot, he said, “I couldn’t name one favorite. Iron Horse Trail over at Winter Park is a good one. I like to get up to the top of Alberta Peak a couple of times a year.”

“I’m not familiar with that one.”

“Wolf Creek Ski Area,” he said. “And the prettiest run through timber in the state is there, too. Simpatico—and let me tell you, the name fits.” As he had done with the couch, he stretched his arm across the back of the seat. “Sounds like we need to make a ski date.”

“I don’t date,” she answered, the words so automatic they were out before she gave them any thought.

Without missing a beat, he said, “Good. If it was a date, you’d expect me to pay for the lift tickets—”

“I have my own Colorado Pass.”

“And rent you skis—”

“I have a new pair of Völkl skis.”

He whistled in appreciation. “It’s a good thing you don’t date, Lucia Vance. You’d be high maintenance.” The teasing quality in his voice took away any possible sting.

“You’d be surprised.”

Actually, Rafe was. She clearly skied a lot since she had a season pass that gave her access to all the ski areas in Summit County. And since she had named a couple of runs that came close to the kind of extreme skiing he preferred, she was clearly a good skier—make that an expert skier—something that increased her appeal a thousandfold. As for being high maintenance, she clearly wasn’t. Not from her modest SUV to her shiny, nearly black hair that she wore in a no-fuss ponytail. Her nails were cut short, and given her choice in careers—plus her interest in skiing—he figured she was a tomboy, not a high-maintenance, frilly woman.

This woman, he thought, would be easy to fall in love with. Even though she didn’t date. Maybe especially because she didn’t date.

She pulled the vehicle to a stop at the traffic light a couple of blocks from the apartment. “You need to provide some direction for this shopping expedition,” she told him.

“I’m thinking we should head for Citadel Mall,” he said. “I think my niece would like one of those made-while-you-watch teddy bears.”

Lucia smiled. “And here you wanted me to think you didn’t know what you wanted to get.”

“It got you to agree to come with me.” He waited a beat until she took her gaze off the traffic and looked at him. “Now tell me why it is that you don’t date.”

She looked away, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Her focus on the traffic kept her from looking at him, but she didn’t answer right away. Figuring her answer would be more interesting and hopefully closer to the real reason if he didn’t push, he waited, fascinated by the way her fingers tapped the edge of the steering wheel.

“Three older, overprotective brothers,” she finally said.

“And their names, just in case they come looking for me—”

“Which they won’t because we aren’t dating.”

“Humor me,” he encouraged, wishing she’d look at him again.

“Travis, Peter and Sam,” she said. “In that order.”

“Why else?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just big brothers who like to think they know what’s best for me.”

He figured there had to be more to her not dating but let it go, returning to the safe topic of skiing and the merits of various ski slopes throughout the state. In the process, he learned her family had a condo in Breckenridge. By the time they had reached the teddy bear store, she had also revealed that she had a soft spot for stuffed animals. He paid attention to the ones she picked up before handing him a soft brown traditional-looking bear, tucking that information away for use at some future time.

They spent the next half hour going through the ritual of placing a satin heart in the bear’s chest before stuffing it and picking out accessories.

By the time they were finished making the purchase, it was after seven and time to head for the prayer service.

“I don’t expect you to come with me,” Lucia told him. “I can’t impose on you.”

“Why not?” Rafe asked from the passenger seat of her SUV. “I imposed on you to go shopping.”

“That’s different.”

“I don’t see how,” Rafe said, figuring this was a chance to meet at least a couple of her brothers. If they were as overprotective of her as Lucia indicated, the sooner he crossed that hurdle, the better. That he was even thinking so was an indication he was getting in deep already. He had known her slightly more than twenty-four hours but already knew they had shared values and shared interests. If she thought he’d be turned off by going to church with her, he also needed to put that to rest. “Let’s put it this way, I want to come with you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” As she put the car in gear and eased slowly through the parking lot, he watched her, absorbing everything he could about her in the dim light. Her skin was fair, a sharp contrast to her dark hair and eyes. Tendrils of hair had come loose from her ponytail. One day, he’d wrap one of those around his finger to see if her hair was as soft and as silky as it looked.

“You’re staring,” she said, a flush staining her cheeks.

“There’s a lot to stare at,” he said without any apology. “If I made you uncomfortable—”

“We’re not going to date.”

“I heard you.” Much as he suspected she needed a more solid agreement than that from him, he wouldn’t lie to her. If she was so dead set against dating, he’d find another way to spend time with her.

“So you can stop looking at me like that.”

“I’ll do my best,” he promised, sure that he had heard a tremor of underlying fear in her voice. What happened to you, Lucia Vance? he wondered.

The service had just started when they came through the door to the church. To Rafe’s surprise, the church was nearly full, so they sat down in one of the rear pews. Even though he was extremely aware of Lucia next to him, the lifelong habit of being in church during good times and bad brought that awareness to the forefront. Familiar comfort seeped into him.

His own silent prayer for Mayor Vance’s healing joined Reverend Dawson’s. Along with that prayer were others. For Lucia to find a sense of peace within this challenging time for her and her family. For a chance to know her better. For Rafe’s actions to be guided by what was ultimately good for Lucia, not simply by his own selfish desires.

When the service ended, they remained in the pew as people made their way out of the church, many of them stopping to speak with Lucia. Some he recognized. Battalion Chief Neil O’Brien with a petite woman who was several months pregnant—the woman smiled at Lucia while the chief pointedly ignored her. Several other firefighters, including the two men he had met the previous day. Gideon Jackson stopped to say hello to Rafe and introduce his son, a little boy who was his spitting image and who quietly held tight to his hand. Luke Donovan held a toddler who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Two other little girls with his blond hair and blue eyes skipped alongside of him and his wife, a pretty redhead who looked to be several months pregnant.

The little girls clearly knew Lucia well because they immediately launched themselves into her arms. She responded affectionately with them, chatting with their mother. A second later, they were joined by a blonde who caught Rafe’s eye and immediately stuck out her hand, saying, “Hi, I’m Colleen Montgomery.”

“This is Rafael Wright,” Lucia said.

Colleen lightly touched the front of his jacket. “Ah, the mysterious owner of the leather jacket.” Her inspection of him was frankly speculative before she said to Lucia, “I’ll see you tomorrow, girlfriend.”

When a trio of men came down the aisle toward them, Rafe figured these had to be Lucia’s brothers. All dark-haired and as tall as himself, they surrounded Lucia as though she needed protection. From him. That thought made him inwardly grin, since he recognized the posture—he had used it a time or two to intimidate guys hitting on his sisters, though they had both been older.

“I’m Rafael Wright,” Rafe said to the man who came to a stop at Lucia’s left, deliberately smiling in the face of the man’s glower and offering his hand.

“Samuel Vance.” He had Lucia’s dark brown eyes.

Rafe turned his attention to the other two, both of them with black hair and blue eyes. Of the three, Sam looked most like Lucia, though her hair was the near black of these two.

“I’m Travis,” one said, shaking Rafe’s hand. “And this is Peter.”

“How do you know Lucia?” Peter asked.

“Stop the third degree,” came the soft command from a striking petite woman who came to a stop next to them. She had the same velvety-looking skin and nearly black hair as Lucia. She extended her hand to Rafe. “I’m Lidia Vance. Thanks for saving my daughter’s life yesterday.”

When he took her hand, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. And for one of the rare times in his life, Rafe had no idea what to say.

“What’s this?” Travis demanded at the same time Lucia turned and asked her mother, “How did you know?”

“You, my daughter,” Lidia said, “were just a little too casual yesterday, so I called Gideon.” Without releasing Rafe’s hand, she faced Lucia’s brothers. “There was an explosion during yesterday’s fire—”

“My partner, Becca, told me about that,” Sam said.

“—that knocked Lucia out—”

“I was not unconscious, Mom,” Lucia interrupted.

“—and put up a wall of fire between her and her escape route,” Lidia continued. “Rafe, here, happened to be in the chapel—and if that wasn’t a Godsend, I don’t know what could have been—and he pulled her to safety.” Lucia’s mother looked at Rafe. “According to Gideon, our Lucia would have been in serious trouble if you hadn’t been there.” She tipped her head toward him. “I thank you. We all do.”

“It was nothing. Just at the right place at the right time,” Rafe said.

Sam took Lucia by the shoulders and looked her up and down as though assuring himself she had no injuries. “You’re sure you’re okay, sis?”

Her “I’m fine” was nearly lost beneath Travis’s annoyed “Everything else going on around here and you don’t say a word?”

“Because I knew it would be like this,” Lucia said, her voice surprisingly even. She smiled at Travis. “When have I ever kept something big from you?”

“Only once,” he said, his gaze turning to Rafe. “And it was one time too many.”

FIVE

“Could you please tell us step-by-step what happened after you arrived at the hospital?” Chief O’Brien said to Lucia two days later.

She had been summoned to the downtown station shortly after her arrival to work that same morning. The wide expanse of the polished oak table stretched like a brown lake between Lucia on one side and O’Brien and two other battalion chiefs on the other. As intimidation went, it was highly effective, just as it was supposed to be. She wasn’t intimidated so much as annoyed.

This inquiry seemed a continuation of O’Brien’s belief that she had become a firefighter because of her father’s influence rather than on her own merits. O’Brien had repeatedly ignored the fact that she had become a firefighter long before her father was elected and that she had consistently scored well on her exams and performance reviews.

Furthermore, since O’Brien had been the commander on the fire and had been with her until shortly before the explosion, he knew very well what had happened.

Even so, she repeated the events as she remembered them, doing her best to conceal her irritation and to relate the facts only.

When she was finished, one of the other chiefs, Alex Jones, said, “That was unusual, wasn’t it, to split up you and your partner?”

“It was.” Lucia looked steadily at O’Brien.

“And entirely within the scope of the fire. Her partner was needed elsewhere,” he interjected. “She was assigned a simple task that she failed to complete.”

“Because of the explosion,” Lucia said.

“Which shouldn’t have happened if you had gotten water on the fire more quickly.”

“Can you tell us how many minutes elapsed from the time you hooked up the water until the explosion?” Chief Jones asked.

“Less than a minute,” Lucia said. “I had just connected the hose when it happened. I hadn’t gotten a drop of water on the fire.”

O’Brien shook his head. “That’s because you spent a good five minutes horsing around before you hooked up the hose.”

A lie, Lucia thought, her annoyance growing. Challenging him in this setting, though, would be a mistake, starting a fight she had no hope of winning. Her attention shifted to the other two battalion chiefs.

“I don’t remember the elapse of time being that long,” she said evenly. “You should probably check with the other firefighters assigned to the floor.” Still, the accusation that she had been slow nagged at her. Had her memory failed her about that? Had she been slow? Enough so that the explosion and subsequent expansion of the fire was a result of her neglect? “At the time, I thought I was doing all that I could as fast as I could.”

The other battalion chief, Michelle Simpson, said, “Do you have anything else to add, Ms. Vance?”

“No,” Lucia said.

Chief Simpson glanced around the room. “I still have questions that I think should be asked of the other firefighters who responded. But until we talk to them, I’m willing to go along with your recommendation, Chief O’Brien, that Ms. Vance be placed on light duty.”

“I agree,” Chief Jones said.

Lucia watched the three of them, her heart sinking. She’d been down this road before, and she actively disliked light duty. Generally O’Brien found the most menial tasks possible to occupy the nine-to-five schedule that was far more difficult to adjust to than twenty-four-hour shifts of full duty. Though she worked no more hours during the course of a week, the light-duty hours wore on her. Not only did she feel as though she had less time at home, she knew for certain that she was letting down her fellow firefighters because someone else would have to be called in to fill in for her.

“Report to my office after lunch,” O’Brien told her, “and I’ll have your work assignment for you.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded, deliberately reverting to the formal manners that her parents had instilled in her. Manners that reminded her to keep her temper in check.

She left the building, which was across the street from the county courthouse. The day was a cold, blustery March one, the sort that made her wish she could be at home working on the latest stained glass she was making, this one a planned wedding gift for Brendan Montgomery and Chloe Tanner. Instead, the best she could hope for was a day that would creep by at a snail’s pace, where she was denied the opportunity to do the job she loved.

Since she was only a few blocks away from the police station her brother Sam worked from, she called him from her cell phone, and they made plans to meet for lunch at the Stagecoach Café, a favorite hangout for the family. Sam and his partner, Becca Hilliard, were already there when Lucia arrived.

“You’re looking a little blue,” Sam said as she slid into the booth next to Becca.

Lucia glanced at her brother’s partner. “He does know how to flatter a girl, doesn’t he?”

“You know Sam,” Becca said.

“I just call it like I see it,” Sam said. “Plus, the only reason you’d be downtown instead of at your station house is because O’Brien called you in. Tell her I’m right, Becky.”

“I’m not telling her anything,” Becca responded.

“You’re right,” Lucia said. “He called a review board first thing this morning and I’m on light duty until the investigation is complete.”

“What investigation?” Sam demanded.

Lucia shrugged. “The one where the scope of the fire is my fault for abandoning my post.” Now that she’d said the words aloud, they sounded awful, and she swallowed back tears that she hadn’t allowed earlier.

“That is a bunch of horseradish,” Sam said, his voice low and fierce. “This vendetta O’Brien has had against you for the last year has gone too far this time.”

“Sooner or later, he’ll hang himself with his groundless accusations,” Becca said.

Lucia managed a smile. “Sooner or later.”

“It will be a lot sooner if I have anything to say about it.”

“Don’t you dare go talk to him! That will only make him more convinced than he already is that the only reason I have this job is because—”

“You’re a good firefighter,” Becca interrupted. “This will be like the other times he’s gone after you. You’ll come out just fine, and he’ll have another notation on his record to that effect.”

The waitress arrived to take their orders, and the next few minutes were focused on that. While they waited for their food to be delivered, Becca complained about how expensive it was going to be to replace the leaky roof on her big, old Victorian house.

“You should just sell it,” Sam advised in what Lucia knew to be an ongoing exchange between the two. “Your brother and sister are finally all grown up, and you could be free.” He grinned as he spoke, and as always, Becca scowled at him when he urged her to sell her family home.

Lucia smiled at the interplay between the two. Becca had a love-hate relationship with the house. It was special to her because it had been in the family for so many generations and a burden to her because she had put aside her own dreams to finish raising her brother and sister after both of her parents had died.

She nudged Becca. “Tell my brother to give away his dog—”

“Like that will happen,” Sam said. “My kids would have a fit.”

Becca grinned. “And I’ll be getting rid of my house about the same time.”

A couple of minutes later, their lunches arrived, salads for Lucia and Becca and a huge hamburger and fries for Sam.

He was quiet for a moment while he took a couple of healthy bites of his burger. “I went to see your new friend, Rafael Wright.” He wiped the corner of his mouth.

“You didn’t.” Her heart sinking, Lucia looked up from her salad.

“Did you know he’s lived all over the United States?” Sam continued as though he hadn’t heard her exclamation. “He’s only been here a little over a year, and the way he talks, he might be transferred.”

“So?”

“So why risk getting involved with a guy who has no roots?”

“He has roots,” Lucia said. “In addition to his job, he’s one of the volunteers for the wildland fire unit.”

“Not that he’d be around if there was a fire, since those happen while he’s running all over the United States being a hotshot.”

“You say that like it’s an insult.” Lucia glared at her brother. “Being a hotshot firefighter puts him in an elite group and you know it.”

Sam grinned at his partner. “She’s way too easy to bait.” His gaze turned on Lucia. “Look at the way you defend the guy, sis. You wouldn’t do that if you weren’t involved.”

“We’re not—”

“You brought him to church the other night.”

She couldn’t deny that. She had. And Sam, and probably her other two brothers as well, had jumped to all the wrong conclusions she had been afraid they would. Explaining that they had been shopping and had run out of time would only strengthen the perception.

“Plus,” Sam bulldozed on, “I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“You’re imagining things,” Lucia said. She wasn’t planning on getting involved with Rafe, but her brother’s attitude rankled. She set down her fork and glared across the table at him. “And you keep acting like I’m about twelve and don’t know how to take care of myself.”

He met her glare with one of his own, his dark brown eyes filled with concern. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again, that’s all.”

The idea of feeling as emotionally vulnerable as she had when Stan Felini had broken their engagement had Lucia in agreement with her brother. She didn’t want to be hurt again, either. Equally, she didn’t want her three older brothers running interference for her.

“It’s my choice to make,” Lucia said. “And you might inform Travis and Peter of that, too.” Taking a deep breath, she picked her fork back up and glanced at Becca. “Be glad you don’t have any big brothers. They are a royal pain.”

Becca smiled. “I’ve been told big sisters are, too.”

They finished eating, paid the bill and made their way toward the door. Waiting to be seated was Alessandro Donato, Lucia and Sam’s cousin, who smiled when he saw them.

“How are you?” he said, his dark eyes warm. He took both of Lucia’s hands and kissed her on one cheek, then the other, his usual greeting left over from his Italian upbringing. “I heard about your close call with the fire the other day.”

“Does everyone watch the evening news?” Lucia asked. “I’ll be just as happy when my fifteen minutes of fame are over.”