Daring Devotion (6 page)

“This.” She reached into her purse and held up three pictures of silverware. Each had been enlarged to give a perfect picture of the intricate designs on the handles. “I'm going to register tomorrow, and this is the only thing we have not agreed on.”

“What agreement? You've just been doing whatever you damn well please.” He held up his hands at the aggrieved expression that came across her face. “Which is just fine by me. So, why do you want my input now?”

“For that very reason! You haven't helped me with any of the arrangements. I figured the least you could do is pick the silverware!”

He frowned. “Does it matter? I mean, a fork is a fork, right? They all do pretty much the same thing.”

She just stared at him, until he began to question his logic. “Right?” he said after a while, believing he had a valid point.

Andrea huffed and shoved her pictures back down into her purse. “I should've known better than this. Never mind.” The wedding was now less than two months away, and Andrea was feeling less sure of her course with every day.

It had become apparent to her that nothing short of God would keep Calvin Brown off the engine truck when that alarm sounded. She thought, or hoped rather, that the problems he'd exhibited after the last fire would've kept him grounded. But she was finally beginning to understand what Marty had meant. It wasn't just a job, it was a calling. And Cal was a devoted believer.

She'd thought that maybe if she forced him to become more active in the planning of the wedding, that somehow it would assuage some of her concern. Maybe, if they spent more time together during these crucial times, she could remind herself of all the reasons she could not live without him. But just as she'd originally suspected, the promotion to chief had only meant more time spent away from her, and more chances of him being killed.

As she headed toward the door, Cal cut off her path. “Okay, what did I do this time?”

She shook her head, fearing that if she spoke, he would hear the tears in her voice.

Taking her in his arms, his large hands slid down to cup her bottom in his palms. “Tell you what. When you are ready to go lingerie shopping for the honeymoon, I'll be all over that!” He grinned wickedly, and Andrea could not help but return the smile. He looked so pleased with the prospect.

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Look, we both knew when I became chief that there would be more responsibility.”

But I never wanted you to become chief!
she wanted to scream, but knew the words would crush him.

“Just be patient with me, Andrea. Once I get the hang of the job, I'll be able to delegate more, but right now it all falls on me.”

“I understand,” she lied. She didn't understand any of it, and everything he was saying just reinforced her own point of view.

“Did I tell you about the house in Puerto Rico?” Cal asked, trying to lift her spirits with the generous offer Marty and Cavanaugh had made.

She looked at him curiously. “Cavanaugh offered us the St. John house in Puerto Rico for our honeymoon if we want. Interested?”

Her eyes widened. Cavanaugh, Marty's husband was a wealthy businessman, and his family owned what they called a villa, but in the pictures the thing looked more like a mansion. Marty had told her all about it from the times she'd stayed there with Cavanaugh. “Sure, how nice of them.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” He relaxed, seeing the light come back into her eyes. “I'll let him know we want to do it, but you have to give me some specific dates.”

She frowned. “Don't you remember the dates we chose for the honeymoon?”

Uh-oh.
“Um, of course I do.” He moved around the desk. “It's right here in my planner.” He quickly flipped through the pages, but could not find it. When he finally looked up again, Andrea was gone.

Cal quirked an eyebrow. Why was she acting so strange lately? Cal had noticed that everything he said to her lately seemed to get taken out of context.

Andrea was storming toward the steps when she saw Dina coming from the opposite direction with a large basket of clothes.

Although the firehouse had two sets of washers and dryers for the guys, Dina always picked up Dwight's laundry and replaced it with clean clothes. It was the unanimous opinion of all the firehouse wives and girlfriends that Dina was setting a bad example.

Andrea paused and waited for her friend. “Hey, girl, see you're here taking care of that big baby.”

“Well, what can I say? I created the monster.” Dina laughed. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to ask Cal about silverware patterns.”

Dina burst into a full body laugh, then it suddenly stopped. “Oh…you're serious.”

“His reaction wasn't much better,” she confessed.

Seeing the very real concern on her face, Dina leaned against the wall. “Still struggling with that decision?”

“Yes.”

Dina glanced back over her shoulder. “Well, you better make up your mind fast, girlfriend. Invitations are going to be going out soon.”

“Don't remind me. Where's Marty?”

“On her way here. She starts her new rotation tonight.”

“Oh.” Andrea sighed, realizing they did not have another Spa Day scheduled for weeks.

“Well, I better get going.” Dina leaned forward and whispered, “By the way, don't worry about that little party they were planning to throw for Cal. I've taken care of everything.” With a wicked snicker, she hurried down the hall, leaving Andrea standing alone and wondering what the heck she was talking about.

Deciding it was just the rattling of an exhausted woman, she shook it off and went down the stairs. As she rounded the corner, Jeff appeared in front of her out of nowhere.

“Hey, sexy, what's up?”

Andrea frowned slightly at the man's familiar greeting. He hadn't said more than two words in the almost two months he'd been there, and now suddenly it's
Hey, sexy, what's up?

“Hi…Jeff, right?” She put it in the form of a question to remind him that they did not know each other that well.

He ignored the warning and edged closer. “Funny running into you this way.”

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, Andrea pushed her way around him. “Not really, I'm here all the time—to see Cal—my
fiancé.
” She stressed the word, noting for the first time the lecherous look in his eyes. “You remember him, don't you? Your boss.”

That did it. His expression snapped to one of anger, and his beady eyes narrowed on her face. “Ain't got to get all defensive. Can't a man just say hello?”

She stared at him for a second, then turned and walked away. Halfway to her car, Andrea decided she would not say anything to Cal about the incident. Knowing Cal, he would hurt the man, and despite his strange behavior she did not want that on her conscience. But in the future, she would definitely avoid him.

J
eff stood, watching her leave.
Stuck-up bitch.
Up until that moment, Jeff had not decided if Andrea was disposable or not. Now, he knew she most certainly was. He would use her and toss her out without hesitation if it got him closer to his goal.

All he'd said was “hello sexy”—most women would think that was a compliment. And it was not like he was really interested in her—he'd just panicked when he heard someone coming down the back stairs. No one ever used those stairs, which was why he thought he would be left alone for a time.

Brushing off the whole incident, he returned to the task at hand. He stood staring at the hoses on the back of the truck, trying to decide just how badly he wanted to hurt Cal's reputation. Bad enough to tamper with the equipment?

He fingered the heavy hose. If he did what he was considering, he could put the whole team in jeopardy. Cal had seemed to become obsessed with the equipment lately, which is how Jeff had come up with the idea in the first place.

If the equipment was found to be faulty, Cal would be the one held responsible. There would be an investigation, but where would that lead? Jeff frowned in thought. Everyone in the house would vouch for him. No, he decided, tampering with the equipment was not the way.

A small red container caught his eyes and he saw a bottle of accelerant sitting off to the side. It was used for the rare occasion when they had to start a smaller fire to contain a larger one. It was small enough that it would never be missed. But what would he use it for?

Just then, he heard a sports car pull into the lot. He swore under his breath and, taking them two at a time, he quickly went up the back stairs, forgetting he still had the accelerant container tucked in his arm. All that was on his mind was not being seen alone near the truck…just in case he decided to change his mind about sabotaging the equipment later.

Marty sat beside her husband, Cavanaugh, in his small sports car as he pulled into the firehouse lot to drop her off for her latest rotation. Instead of hopping out of the car right away in her usual fashion, she waited patiently for him to speak. Something was on his mind, but Cavanaugh was the type of man who only spoke when he was ready and not a minute before.

“Four more nights without you by my side,” he finally said. “I'm beginning to dread these rotations.”

So, that was it,
she thought. “The time will go fast,” she said softly.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “No, it won't.”

Not knowing how to console him, Marty opened the door and prepared to leave when she felt his hand on her shoulder. “Marty, when are we going to get started on our future?”

She shifted her body on the seat to face him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean kids. When are we going to consider starting a family?”

Marty frowned realizing where this conversation was going. “Certainly not now, if that's what you're getting at.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Well, for one, we've only been married for a year. I don't know about you, but I would like a little more time as a couple before we add children to the equation. Secondly, have you forgotten I'm a firefighter?”

“No,” he growled. “I can never forget that.”

She tilted her head to the side, wondering if she'd imagined the subtle anger in his voice, but continued to make her point. “Sorry, but they don't make turnout gear in maternity wear.”

“You think I don't realize that?”

There was no mistaking the anger this time. “What's this about?”

His jaw flexed with tension. “Nothing. Go on, you're going to be late signing in.”

She took his hand between hers.

He continued to stare straight ahead, only the slight flexing of his jawbone revealed his conflicting emotions.

“Is this about the fire last week?”

“It's about the fire last week, the fire the week before. The fire next week, and the week after. It's about every time that firehouse alarm sounds.”

“Cavanaugh, you knew what I did when we met.”

“Forget I brought it up.” His coal-black eyes shot her a darting glance. “I love you, Marty. Sometimes, I don't think you know how much.”

“I know.”

“I don't know what I would do without you.”

She leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek. “I plan to have a long and fruitful life with you. In ten years or so, we'll have a house full of kids. Just not now, not today.”

A few seconds later, Marty stood in the entrance of the firehouse and waved as Cavanaugh drove away. She only hoped she'd been able to reassure him.

 

Cal peered out his office window when he heard Cavanaugh's BMW pulling in. He went to stand at the top of the stairs to greet Marty, and stopped short to see Jeff coming up the stairs with an accelerant can under his arm.

“What are you doing with that?” Cal's cinnamon-brown eyes narrowed to slits.

Jeff nearly fell back down the stairs startled by the shadow that was suddenly standing over him. He quickly regained his composure. “Found it sitting in the middle of the floor downstairs. Just putting it back where it belongs.”

“It belongs downstairs.”

Jeff feigned surprise. “Oh? I could've sworn I saw a cabinet up here somewhere with all the accelerants in it.”

Cal studied the man intensely. He was lying. “No, the cabinet for the accelerants is downstairs.”

“Okay, thanks.” He turned and hurried back down the stairs almost knocking Marty over in the process.

“Hey! Watch it,” she snapped, regaining her balance on the metal, spiral staircase. Once the man was out of sight, she turned to look at Cal at the top of the stairs. He was still staring at the last place he'd seen Jeff. “What's going on?”

Cal shook his head. “Don't know. Does anything strike you odd about that guy?”

Her mouth twisted in a smirk. “Only everything.”

So, Cal thought, it wasn't just him. He resolved right there to ask his other team members what their take on Jeff Collins was. He could not risk a weak link in his strong chain. He was beginning to wonder if he'd made a bad decision in accepting him as part of his team.

At first, Cal had believed he was just a loner who could slowly be won over, and made to feel accepted. But now, after the incident in the weight room, he was reconsidering. Something in Jeff's eyes revealed his nature. And from what Cal could see it was not good. The man was more than a loner, he was trouble.

“What's up?” Marty asked, seeing the thoughtful expression on his face.

“Nothing,” he said, watching Marty sling her knapsack over her shoulder and climb the remaining stairs. Cal decided to keep his suspicions to himself for now. After all, what did he have to go on? A feeling?

No, he would wait, and give Jeff a chance to fit in. Maybe with encouragement and time, he would change his feelings.

As she came to a halt beside him, Marty reached over and touched his arm. “Are you okay? I mean, since the Hadley building you've been acting a little weird.”

“It shook me a little, but I'm fine now,” he said the words, at the same time trying to make himself believe them.

Marty started to move, but then paused. “Andrea is worried about you.”

His eyes flashed to Marty's, wondering just how much Andrea said to her, but he was instantly relieved. One look in her eyes told him she knew nothing of the nightmares.

“I know.” He smiled. “Really, I'm good.”

His friend looked at him for a long time, before deciding to accept his words. She nodded and walked away. A few seconds later Cal heard the guys greeting her in the other room.

As he headed back to his office, he replayed the incident that had occurred at her place the night before. Andrea had pleaded with him to talk to her about his nightmares. He could still see the love and compassion shining in her eyes.

But instead, he put on his clothes and left. He remembered exactly how she looked sitting so lonesome on the big, empty bed. He sometimes wondered if she wouldn't be better off without him. Driving home, for one brief, terrifying moment, he imagined what his life would've been like if he walked away from her, out of her life forever. The image was terrifying. The bleak, lonely existence that waited beyond was too horrible to imagine. So, he found himself in an impossible position. Too weak to love her, the way she deserved to be loved, and too weak to let her go.

And he'd almost caved. He'd wanted to cross the room and take her into his arms, tell her again how much he loved her, how lucky he was that she loved him. He wanted to tell her that he would love and honor her the rest of her days, and treat her like the princess she was. But he couldn't because he knew she deserved better than a half-crazed fireman. So, when she reached out to him, he'd tucked his tail and run. But what choice did he have?

How was he supposed to tell her that the nightmare she'd awaken him from involved her? That many times, over the past few nights, the person he'd seen falling into the great abyss had not been himself, but the one he loved most. Somehow the demon in his mind knew just how to terrify him. Not with the threat of his own death, but with that of Andrea's.

Suddenly, the shrill and familiar sound of the alarm interrupted his contemplation, and once again the firehouse erupted in activity. By the time he got into gear and hurried down the stairs, most of the team was already on the truck. The horn blew twice in warning to pedestrians, and the truck began moving forward, just as Cal was pulled aboard by Tommy.

 

Cal spotted the shadowy outline of what he believed was a human body at the top of the stairwell. The ear-piercing scream that came shortly after confirmed that the person was still alive. He took two steps at a time, until he reached the first landing. He turned, stepped over a pile of debris and stopped dead cold.

The second flight of stairs had burned away, leaving an eight foot gap between where he stood and his victim. Without thought, he looked down into the hideous cavity and immediately regretted it as the whole world took on the sickening, swirling effect. He braced himself against the wall, and closed his eyes. Sometimes taking several deep breaths helped, but not this time.

When he opened his eyes again, it was even worse. Everything had taken on a kaleidoscopic appearance. Images running one into the other, and he was no longer certain of exactly where his victim lay. No more sure than he was of where he was standing.

The person lying at the top of the stairs screamed again, calling for help.

Cal turned his head trying to pinpoint the person; he knew they couldn't last much longer. The flames were closing in on their location. With material to feed on, the fire moved with a swiftness that always amazed him.

He tried to stand, and fell back against the wall. His legs felt like melting rubber beneath his body. Suddenly, it felt as if his oxygen had been cut off. He found it almost impossible to breath. He took big, gulping, mouthfuls of air and still felt as if he were suffocating.

“Cal! What are you doing?”

Cal felt another firefighter push past him, and he went to grab them. Apparently, they did not see the hole in the staircase. “No wait!” he called out beneath his mask, but it was too late. The person had disappeared into the flames.

Seconds later, they reappeared with the victim tossed over a shoulder, and Cal got his first clear look at the face beneath the mask. It was Dwight.

“Come on! Let's get out of here!” Dwight pushed back past Cal once again, hurrying toward the direction of the exit. It only took a moment to realize Cal was not following.

Cal stood looking down at the perfectly secure staircase; the one that he'd thought had burned away. They were all there, not a single stair touched by flames. That's how Dwight had reached the victim; he'd simply climbed the stairs. Stairs that, until a moment ago, Cal could not see.

“Cal! Let's go!” Dwight called again.

Cal looked up at his friend in dumbfounded silence, as the flames continued to lap at them on all sides.

Someone grabbed his arm, and dragged him forward. Almost to the exit, he realized there was a whole group of them. Where had they all come from? Where had those mysterious stairs come from? Or had they been there all along?

As they exited the family home, Cal felt himself being pushed aside as the medical techs took over the scene. He stumbled over to the truck, and leaned his heavy weight against it. His head was still spinning, but not as much as inside the house.

He could finally take in the scene with some accuracy. Now he saw the family lying on the grass, all alive and choking on smoke. A man, a teenage girl, and now the victim Dwight was adding, a woman.

Cal felt his insides twist into tight knots as he watched the victim he'd been unable to reach, the woman at the top of the stairs he could not see, struggle to breathe. The sharp shooting pain in his chest caused him to double over.