Burning Ambition (9 page)

“Faith,” her mom said, opening the door and looking surprised.

Some people would be insulted, but Faith could readily admit she hadn’t visited here often—only twice before in the two months plus she’d been back in San Amaro.

“Hi, Mom.” Faith held up the plastic container of scotcheroos. Her best attempt at a peace offering. “Can I come in?”

Her mother stepped back so Faith could enter. “What’s with the cookies?” she asked suspiciously.

“I baked scotcheroos. Too many.” That they were her dad’s favorite and not her mom’s remained unspoken, but hung between them.

Her mom frowned and set the container aside on the high counter that divided the living room from the kitchen, without even acting tempted. “What are you doing here?”

Faith wandered in as if it were her home, even though it didn’t feel like anyone’s home with its taupe walls, beige carpet and total lack of personalization. She couldn’t spot anything that screamed out Nita Peligni.

“You’re not planning to stay here, are you?” Faith said, falling unladylike onto the cheap, used sofa.

“What?” Her mom perched carefully on the non-matching chair. She looked out of place in this room in her casual robin’s egg-blue pantsuit, her hair, as usual, perfectly in place.

“This is temporary,” Faith continued, waving her arm. “To teach him a lesson.”

“To teach…who? What are you talking about?”

“If you were planning to stay here, you would’ve bought better furniture. Added some throw pillows, some artwork. Color. Your walls are bare, Mom.”

“I have upholstery covers on order, Faith. A rug. And once I get those, I’ll pick out some accent pieces.”

“You’ve been here for three months. It’s not like you to live in this monotone blah.”

Her mom settled back into the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Frankly, I don’t know what’s like me. As a suddenly soon-to-be-divorcee at the age of fifty-eight, decorating hasn’t been my top priority.”

She was sincere, not just saying it to gain sympathy, and somehow, in spite of Faith’s anger and her tendency to be more concerned for her dad’s well-being, it was impossible to be unaffected by her mother’s plight.

Her mom had left him, though, Faith reminded herself.

“If it’s so bad being by yourself, why not go back?”

“Is this why you came? To browbeat me? To try to get me to move back home?”

Once again, Faith had let her emotions carry her too far, just as she had during the argument at dinner. Why she couldn’t just chill out, hold herself back, when it was vital to making her point, she didn’t know. Her mom had always set her off.

“I didn’t come to browbeat. But…Dad needs you, Mom.”

Her mother looked away and swallowed hard. Smoothed down her pants with fidgety hands. “He’s never really needed me, Faith. Not like he’s needed his career. And that’s the fundamental problem.”

“Mom—”

Nita held her hand up. “Stop. I know you want us back together, but it’s not going to happen.” She walked over to the sofa and sat a foot away from Faith. “It’s too late for your dad and me, honey. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be.”

“This isn’t about me.” Faith popped up off the sofa, uncomfortable with her mother’s closeness. “Dad…” She lifted her face to stare at the ugly white ceiling through tear-blurred eyes. Pacing toward the kitchen, she swiftly wiped the moisture away. She fought to collect herself for several seconds, then finally faced her mom. “He’s not handling this, Mom. At all.”

For a split second, her mom’s feelings showed in her eyes—concern and…love. Faith could swear to it. But then it was gone and the hardness, the hurt were back.

“What do you mean?” Nita asked.

“He’s…I’m pretty sure he’s depressed. Clinically. He sleeps all the time. Forgets to eat. Drinks too much.” Faith was laying most of his secrets out there, but couldn’t bring herself to admit how bad the other night had been. Not if she could avoid it. She wasn’t even sure her dad remembered any of it. He’d walked past her this morning before she’d left, on his way in to the station after his sick day, and acted like nothing was wrong.

“I’m sorry he’s having a hard time. But this isn’t easy for me, either.”

“So then why not try again? At this point he’d do just about anything to get you back where you belong.”

Her mom shook her head slowly. Sadly. “
You
would do anything, Faith. But your father…I don’t think he knows how to put me first. I’ve waited for thirty-eight years.” Her voice wavered and she hesitated. “There comes a time when you have to face up to reality. Admit to yourself something is never going to happen.”

The tears wouldn’t stop filling Faith’s eyes. She marched into the kitchen and grabbed a tissue to wipe them. Her mom clearly didn’t realize how serious the situation was. How bad off her dad was. And short of telling her about his drunken night, Faith wasn’t sure how to make her understand. The digital dots on the microwave clock blinked while she considered. Tried to convince herself to speak up. In the end, she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t rob her father, the person she probably loved most in the world, of his last shred of dignity. She didn’t want her mom to come back out of sympathy or fear of what he might or might not do. She wanted her to come back because they still loved each other.

Faith indelicately blew her nose and threw the tissue into the wastebasket in the pantry. As she headed back out to the bland living room, someone knocked on the door. She didn’t think much of it other than an inconvenience until she noticed her mom’s reaction. Nita jumped up almost before the knock was over and darted a guilty glance at Faith before walking past her and opening the door.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Faith couldn’t see the man yet, but she’d put him in his fifties, tall and very much interested in her mom.

“Craig. Come in and meet my daughter. This is—”

“Faith,” he said smoothly. Way too smoothly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She looked from him to her mom. He was indeed tall, thin, with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair. She wouldn’t give him handsome, but she could see how he would catch a woman’s attention.
But not her mom’s.
Faith closed her eyes as the implications sank in.

Her mom had a…boyfriend? What the hell did you call it when she was fifty-eight years old and not yet divorced? Besides disgusting.

“I was just leaving,” Faith said, looking around for her purse.

“Faith, don’t be rude. This is Craig Eggleston. I’ve been wanting to introduce you.”

Like hell she had. And Faith had no interest in meeting him. She didn’t want to know about him, didn’t want to think about him.

Were they sleeping together? God. Did people her mother’s age still do that? Faith closed her eyes for a moment and pressed her lips together. Shook her head slightly. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, without offering her hand. “Really, I have to go now.”

She finally spotted her purse on the floor by the sofa, grabbed it and made a sincere effort to walk instead of run out the door.

Maybe Joe was right, after all. Maybe there really wasn’t anything more she could do to help her dad.

No. Faith refused to accept that. To give up would be to let her dad down, and after everything he’d done for her, including putting his name on the line to get her hired, she wasn’t about to do that.

Most of the guys were in the living area watching a cheesy horror movie, and the hall that led to the kitchen reeked of microwave popcorn. That didn’t sway her from her sweet objective. The swear words that were uttered in the supply room did, however.

She walked beyond the kitchen and looked into the open doorway. Joe had his back toward her, hunched over a box that must have fallen off the shelf and spilled.

She hadn’t been alone with him since the other day when he’d told her he was tired of being involved in Peligni family business. She didn’t really want to be alone with him now, either, so she tried to back out of the room before he noticed her.

“Midnight snack run?” he asked, shoving the last rolls of bandages into the box as he stood.

Faith halted her attempted escape. “I can hear the chocolate cheesecake calling my name from my bunk. What are you doing in here?”

He replaced the box on the shelf and held up a syringe. “Come see.”

Joe strode out of the room, not giving her a chance to reply. Curiosity propelled her after him. Instead of going toward the racket of male voices in the living area or heading toward the bunks, he took the hall to the wing of offices.

As they turned the corner, Faith saw light shining under his closed office door. “Working late again?” she asked.

“Not exactly.”

He opened the door a few inches and cautiously peered in, then pushed it the rest of the way. He gestured for Faith to follow him in, and then closed the door behind her, reminding her of their last less-than-pleasant discussion in this room.

She glanced expectantly at his desk, but the surface was clean, with neat stacks of paper organized on one corner. Joe stepped across the room, toward the desk the lieutenants used, where a shallow cardboard box rested on the floor.

“You did not,” Faith said, moving closer.

Wriggling furry bodies made stilted movements toward a large mound of gray fur. Cale had discovered the litter of kittens and the mama cat this morning in a corner of the apparatus floor, huddled in a spare turnout coat that had fallen off one of the hooks.

“It’s loud out there when the trucks start up,” Joe said defensively.

“You brought them in here?” Faith was stumbling over the image of their burly, dedicated leader transporting the tiny critters to a safer haven. Where he could keep an eye on them.

“One of them isn’t nursing right.” He lowered himself to the chair he’d moved next to the kitten nest. “The little orange one over here,” he said, pointing.

The kitten was noticeably smaller than the others, and while the rest of the litter were drinking from their mother, the orange one mewed, so quietly Faith almost couldn’t hear it.

She had no experience with cats, but the troubled kitten seemed to wrap itself around her heart and take hold. “Maybe it’s just not hungry now?”

Joe shook his head. “Hasn’t eaten since I moved them in here. The others seem to nurse every hour or two.”

“How long have they been in your office?”

He looked sheepish. “I brought them in before lunch. It was getting too hot.”

She stifled a grin and knelt on the floor next to his legs and the box. He’d added a towel to cushion the cardboard, and a water dish sat beside it. “I didn’t know you had such a soft heart,” Faith said, not realizing until the words were out how personal they sounded.

“I try not to let it show.” Joe went to his desk where a saucer of milk sat next to the carton with the Don’t Touch My Damn Milk warning.

“Derek’s going to miss his milk.”

“I’ll buy him more.”

“Think the little orange one will drink it from the saucer?” Faith held her hand out slowly to the mother cat and let the sleepy animal sniff it.

Joe shook his head. “Too small. A website suggested trying this.” He indicated the needleless syringe again, then filled it with milk.

“Isn’t there some kind of kitten formula you should use?”

“Know any twenty-four hour pet stores where I could get some?”

“Good point.” The mother cat licked Faith’s fingers with her warm, rough tongue, making her smile. “I think I’ve been accepted.”

Joe returned to the chair next to her. “The cat has good instincts.”

Faith puzzled briefly over whether that was a compliment or just a statement.

“Come here, Blaze,” Joe said as he cupped the tiny orange baby in his large hand.

Faith chuckled. “You named it?”

“Just this one,” Joe said sternly, which amused Faith more.

He gently opened the kitten’s mouth and squeezed drops of milk in. Faith watched intently and tried to determine whether any of it was swallowed.

After several minutes, they decided the kitten was getting at least a little nourishment, since the level of milk in the syringe had gone down and very little had spilled on Joe’s uniform. He continued to give the sleepy animal a few drops every couple of minutes.

“Faith,” he said, his tone no longer the quiet, affectionate one he used to talk to the kitten. “I’m sorry for how I came across the other day.”

She ran her index finger lightly along the orange kitten’s back, attempting to hide her reaction to his words. She didn’t expect an apology from him. Didn’t need one, really, because he’d been absolutely right. As her captain, he shouldn’t be put in the middle of her family’s problems. She should never have asked him to keep her collarbone pain from her dad. Derek should never have called him to go get her dad at the bar.

“There’s nothing to apologize for on your end.” She made her own voice businesslike. “I’m sorry you had to get involved in something you shouldn’t even be aware of. Things that never should’ve happened in the first place.”

“But they did. The scope of my job goes beyond just fighting fires to making sure all my men—
people
—do what needs to be done.”

“You were thrown into the middle of our family soap opera. I wish Derek had called me instead of you.”

Joe put the syringe aside when the kitten refused to take more milk, and held the rumbling fur ball in his hand, against his wide chest.

“I’ve worked for your father for years. He worked for mine. I’d do just about anything for him, Faith. I
am
worried about him, but I said it all wrong the other day.”

She nodded. “Okay. I’d offer to shake on our peace treaty but it seems you have your hands full.” She sat back on the floor, supporting her weight on her arms and watching him stroke the kitten. Trying not to admire his large hands or think about the juxtaposition of such strength and gentleness. “Can I ask something personal? Since we’ve already got the line all grayed up between us anyway?”

Joe grimaced. “Shoot.”

“Your mom is married again, isn’t she?”

He nodded.

“What was it like when she first started dating? After your dad passed away?”

He leaned back in the chair and stretched his long legs out, brushing her thigh with his calf. “I hated it. She waited almost ten years, as far as I know, but I couldn’t stand the thought of it.”

Faith propped her elbows on her knees and ran both hands through her hair. Nodded. “Me, neither.”

“Your mom?”

“I visited her yesterday. Hinted at how bad Dad has gotten. How much he needs her. She acted concerned and then her new guy walked in. He called her ‘beautiful.’”

Joe set the kitten back in the box, next to its mother. “Ouch.”

Faith inhaled shakily, overcome by the emotions that had swamped her when Carl or Craig or whatever the hell the smarmy man’s name was had walked in with his smarmy grin.

Joe leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “It does get easier.”

“She’s not even divorced yet,” she managed to croak out, refusing to look at him for fear he’d see how upset she was.

“Yeah. That’s rough. Are you two very close?”

Faith shook her head. “She doesn’t approve of my career. Kind of takes all the feel-good qualities out of a mother-daughter relationship.”

Uncomfortable and antsy, Faith hopped up off the floor and glanced around for a distraction. “Can I hold one of the other kittens?”

Joe shrugged. “It’s okay as far as I know. I’ve never raised any before, but it seems like human contact would be good if they’re going to be pets.”

“Are you going to adopt them?”

“Not planning on it.”

He plucked a fuzzy black beast from the pile and stood, holding it out to her.

“I think you already have,” she said. “At least one.”

His hand brushed her breast as he released the cat to her, and he retracted his arm as if she’d burned him. Faith cradled the kitten and turned away, trying to act as if she hadn’t noticed. Refusing to let her brain veer in that direction at all.

“Maybe that’s what the chief needs,” Joe said lightly. “A kitten to take care of.”

Faith laughed at the image. “I’ll let you approach him on that one. He can’t even take care of himself some days. When can they be taken from their mom?”

“I have no idea. I’ll be dragging Blaze to the vet as soon as shift is over.” Joe bent to spread out the edges of the towel. “Back to your mom. Maybe this is just a phase. Might be nothing serious. Do you know?”

“All I know is that she’s seen him before and they’re close enough that he knew about me, knew my name. Makes me sick to my stomach.”

“I remember that feeling. Maybe the punching bag would do some good.”

“Already beat the crap out of it today,” Faith said. “Definitely therapeutic.”

“That’s my girl.”

His words were extraordinarily personal, she thought. And she couldn’t bring herself to hate it. In fact, the thought of being his girl warmed her to her toes.

Time to get her cheesecake and then shut herself away in her room, where she could be alone with her inappropriate thoughts of this man who had a way of endearing himself to her with his feline rescues and late night encouragement.

“I’ll let you—” she raised the kitten and looked into its tiny face “—get to sleep.” She set it back in the box. “And you get to work. Or babysitting or whatever it is you workaholic captain types do till all hours of the morning, squirreled away in your office.”

“It’s a difficult job,” Joe said with mock seriousness. “I’ll actually be feeding that one every two hours.” He gestured to the orange kitten. “Should make the night go fast.”

Faith considered offering to take a shift, but being alone with this sexy man in the middle of the night wasn’t a good idea. No matter how tempting. “Good night,” she said, opening the door.

“Sleep well.”

The words, though innocent and innocuous, sent a shiver through her. She’d likely not sleep well, thanks to images of him nurturing a helpless little animal the size of his palm. She grinned to herself as she made her way to the kitchen.

“What’s got you so happy at this hour?” Penn asked when she walked into the kitchen.

Thank God she wasn’t the type to blush. “Cheesecake,” she blurted out. “There’s one more—”

“Too late.” He held up a plate with only a few bites of said cheesecake remaining.

The dessert had been brought in by Evan’s wife, Selena, and was fair game, but Faith had counted on beating the guys to it.

“I
used
to like you,” she told Penn, feigning disgust.

He laughed. “You’ll learn. Best to steal it and store it in your room if you really want it.”

“Clearly. Oh well. This way you get to deal with the calories.”

“I’ll lose sleep over it,” he joked as she left the kitchen.

She was disappointed she’d missed out on the sugar she’d been craving all evening, but given a choice, she’d rather witness Joe’s save-a-kitten efforts any day.