Daring Devotion (3 page)

She reached up and covered the strong arms that circled her body, savoring the feeling of warmth and love she knew she would need to get through the night. “Like I told you before, he's never hit me. Just her…always her.”

“Why won't she leave him?” he whispered in frustration.

Andrea's mind was racing with images from her childhood and well into her adult years. So many memories, most of them not good. “When I have an answer to that question, I'll tell you.”

T
hree women filed into the spa for their monthly standing reservation. Even in the blue funk that Andrea had been experiencing lately, she couldn't help but get excited about Spa Day.

As soon as they were through the door, the young lady at the counter smiled and greeted them. “Hello, ladies, your suite is ready. Just go on in and Zack will be right with you.”

Andrea followed Marty, who followed Dina through the frosted glass doors and into the long corridor that led to the client's suites, ignoring the menacing stares of the walk-in clients who'd been waiting hours to get an appointment with the best masseur in Detroit.

The three were settled quickly into their suite by the spa staff. Their clothes had been traded for incredible soft terry robes. Each pair of tired, aching feet was luxuriating in a small whirlpool tub. They sat sipping on the fruity flavored protein drinks they'd been given to pass the time.

Although they had an appointment, they already knew they would be forced to wait, as well, but it was by choice. The spa employed eight masseurs, but unfortunately there was only one Zack, and everyone wanted him.

Spa Day usually took up all of Andrea's monthly splurge money, but by the time Zack got through kneading and pounding her overworked muscles, somehow she just didn't care.

Once they were well relaxed, and halfway through their protein shakes, they picked up the conversation that had started in the car.

“It's perfectly normal to be nervous, Andrea,” Marty said. “You are about to get married—that's a huge commitment.”

Andrea shook her head in confusion. “It's more than just that.”

Marty just quirked an eyebrow at her friend. “You love him, right? Nothing else should matter.”

“You don't understand, Marty,” Dina said. “You're one of them—when the bell rings you're on the truck, adrenaline pumping and ready for action. But those of us left behind just waiting and praying, it's different for us. I bet Cavanaugh understands.”

“Cavanaugh is completely supportive of my career,” she lied, and the other two women just stared at her. Marty stared back, but was unable to keep a straight face. Soon all three women were laughing so loudly the receptionist in the lobby turned her head at the curious noise.

“Okay, okay, maybe he's not
completely
supportive, but he understands this is something I have to do.” She pointed a thin finger at Andrea. “And this is something Cal has to do. If you love him, you have to support him.”

Andrea had only recently expressed her concerns to her girlfriends, so torn as to what course of action she should take, she felt she could use some unbiased advice. The problem was that neither of her two closest friends was unbiased.

Marty, who was herself a firefighter, saw things only from the point of view of a firefighter, and Dina, Dwight's wife of eight years, a seasoned firefighter's spouse, had nothing but dire warnings regarding the years ahead and often came just short of saying
get-out-while-you-can.

It may all be a moot point anyway, Andrea thought, but kept her mouth sealed. These women were like the sisters she never had, but she couldn't even confide in them about the nightmares Cal had been having. She knew if Cal found out she was spreading his business around, he would see it as nothing less than a betrayal. And of course, he would find out, considering Dina couldn't keep a secret if you gave it to her under lock and key.

“I don't know. It's just some days, I don't know if I'm cut out to be a fireman's wife.”

“So, what are you saying? You're going to call off the wedding?”

Andrea toyed with her ring. “I don't know what I'm going to do.”

“Well, you better be sure before you go breaking Cal's heart!” Marty snapped defensively.

“Marty!” Dina scowled. “It's not like the girl don't have enough guilt without your two cents. Look, Andrea, I understand what you are going through. I went through something similar back when Dwight and I first got married.”

“How did you get through it?”

“What are you talking about—get through? I'm still
going
through!” Dina half chuckled. “And I will be until he retires.” Dina reached across and touched Andrea's hand. “Andrea…any sane woman is going to have doubts about marrying a man who wants to run into burning buildings. But despite all my fears and woes, I understood then and now that there is no one I want to grow old with more than Dwight.”

Andrea turned and looked at her. “And what if you never get a chance to grow old together?”

“That is the chance you take. If you can't handle that you need to let him go now.”

“Look, you could marry a businessman and he gets hit crossing the street one day. Nothing in life is guaranteed.” Marty leaned forward to stress her point. “Andrea, I don't think you realize that what we do is not just a job, it's a
calling.
Honestly, I don't know if I could do anything else, and I think I can say the same for Cal. This is in our blood—it's a part of who we are. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, this is why I haven't asked him to give it up for me.” Andrea, could not resist the urge to offer up a bread crumb of information, to feel them out about the fire that Cal wouldn't talk about. “But what if…there were circumstances beyond his control? Something that forced him to give it up?”

Dina and Marty gave each other a knowing glance. “Are we talking about what happened in the Hadley building downtown about a month ago?” Dina asked.

Andrea struggled to close her mouth which had fallen open at how quickly they'd figured out her small clue.

What Andrea had not realized yet was that the members of Firehouse Fifteen were as close as a real family. And like any loving family, they tended to stay in each other's business.

Everyone had noticed the subtle changes in Cal since the fall. It had been the talk in every home over the past few weeks. Primarily, because it was the closest that their team had come to losing one of their own in almost twenty years.

“No, no, nothing specific.” She shuddered nervously and Dina and Marty exchanged another glance.

“I was just saying, if there was some—oh, never mind!” Andrea slammed her head back against the leather chair and let out a large frustrated breath.

Marty studied her troubled face. She'd met Andrea the previous year when she'd been brought in for smoke inhalation and placed on Andrea's ward. She'd liked the nurse right off and as they became friends, Marty soon discovered Andrea was not only kind and fun to be with, she was a lousy liar. In Marty's estimation, those were all the traits of a good friend.

“By the way, I forgot to mention this earlier,” Dina started in an attempt to change the subject. “Did you ladies know that Dwight is supposedly planning a surprise bachelor party for Cal?”

Marty quirked an eyebrow. “So what?”

Dina's eyes widened in amazement. “So what? Do you know what they do at those parties? Bring in a bunch of booty-shaking hoochies and get all liquored up!”

Marty settled back in her chair. “Come on, Dina, lighten up. It's just the last hurrah before he gives up the bachelor life forever. Cut the guys some slack.” She glanced at Andrea. “Unless, you have a problem with it?”

Andrea, who'd been lost in thought, realized they were both staring at her. “What? Oh, doesn't make me any difference,” she said with the shrug of her shoulders.

“Fine, suit yourself.” Dina twisted her mouth, realizing she would get no support for her moral outrage. “I'm just glad Dwight didn't feel the need for such low, debasing entertainment.”

Marty snickered. “At least, none that he let you know about.”

“What are you saying—Dwight had a bachelor party without my knowledge?”

Before Marty could respond, an energetic man bounced into the room. “Hello, ladies!”

Andrea smiled in greeting, remembering the first time she'd seen Zack Aquinas, one of the most sought-after men in Detroit. Spa Day had originally been Dina's idea, and from the way she had described the masseur, Andrea had expected him to look like something off the cover of a romance novel: tall, lean and beyond-belief gorgeous, when in truth he was a small, round man with a cherubic face. Not physically unpleasant, but certainly nothing worth throwing your panties at.

Andrea had almost laughed out loud at the comical image, until she stretched out on his table and experienced the magic for herself. The man's hand were like living silk, and as if guided by some inner knowledge he had worked her taut shoulders and lower back until she felt like a ball of pliable rubber. After that first session, Andrea slept better than she had in years. It only took one more session to turn her into a Zack groupie.

As they followed him to the tables, Andrea found that she was relieved that Zack had arrived when he did. She was starting to regret consulting her opinionated friends; with their conflicting opinions, they'd only left her more confused than she already was. Not that any of it mattered anyway. In the end the decision would have to be hers.

Across town at the firehouse, Cal was finishing up his daily sixty-minute workout by adding another twenty-pound weight to each end of the pole and securing it in place with the locks. He glanced back at the doorway beside one of the gym equipment cabinets.

“Something on your mind, Jeff?” he asked, before shaking the light sprinkling of dust from his hands and positioning himself on the bench to lift the one hundred and fifty pounds over his chest.

Jeff Collins froze in his hiding place behind the large metal cabinet. He glanced at the opposite wall, noticing for the first time the large mirror that revealed his presence. He'd assumed Cal was too involved in his workout routine to notice anything.

Assuming what he hoped was a casual posture, he stepped out into the open. “No, not really.”

Cal shrugged and lifted the bar. Pushing up with fairly little exertion, he completed ten repetitions before replacing the bar. Cal glanced at his friend. “Hey, man, I know that the promotion thing—I mean, I don't want there to be any hard feelings.”

Jeff stood over the bench. “No hard feelings.”

Cal glanced at him. Something in Jeff's voice said otherwise.

“I'm just here to do a job.”

Cal sat up, and grabbing a towel off a nearby bench, he wiped his face. “Glad to hear that.” Cal still felt the need to give a warning. He slung the towel around his neck and stood. “After all, a firehouse is no place for a hot dog.”

“What are you trying to say to me, Cal?”

Cal shrugged. “Nothing a veteran like you doesn't already know.” With that statement, he turned and walked out of the gym.

Jeff's head swung around and his eyes followed Cal until he disappeared around the corner. Only then did he allow his face to relax. The ugly sneer that seemed to be a part of his permanent expression reappeared, along with the cool, dead look in his hard, dark eyes.

Cal walked along the hall toward his office, mentally replaying the conversation. There was something not quite right about Jeff Collins since he'd been promoted. It was obvious the man was feeling the sting of being overlooked for a promotion he thought was guaranteed.

It made no sense, considering Cal was the one to recommend him for the promotion. But ultimately, the decision had been in the hands of the council and they had chosen Cal. But there was something in Jeff's eyes…the intense hatred he'd seen in the man's eyes seemed excessive for such a minor offense. Maybe the guy had mental problems that were not listed in his departmental record.

Cal rubbed his chin thoughtfully—wouldn't be the first time an unstable person had gotten by the shrink at the academy. But with something like that only time could tell. For now, Cal thought, he would just keep an eye on Jeff, just in case.

He was almost back to his office when he was approached by Noel, their district chief fire marshal. “Hey, Cal, got a minute?”

Cal opened the door and motioned his friend inside. “Sure, what' cha need?”

Noel handed him a folder. “Need you to sign off on the Hadley building.”

As the fire team responding to the call, Cal was obligated to verify the information in the report for any potential lawsuits. “Did anything seem strange about that fire?” Cal asked Noel as he scribbled his name across the forms, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Do you mean about the fire or finding the kid inside?”

Cal frowned. “When I think about it, finding Marco there should not have been that much of a surprise. I've been aware for some time that kids like to hang out in there. Everyone from the little bitty ones to the teens seems to be able to find a use for that building. But, no, I was asking about the cause of the fire itself.”

“Completely accidental.” He motioned to the folder. “Read for yourself.”

“Yeah, I did. Just was wondering if there was anything outside of the report.”