The Night Belongs to Fireman (32 page)

Then strong hands were gripping his ankles. He was being gently but firmly pulled along the narrow passage.
Hold on to Rachel
, he told himself.
That's all you have to do. Hold on. They'll do the rest. You can trust them with your life . . . with her life . . . our life . . .

The fresh open air greeted him like a blast from a water hose. Noise surrounded him. People yelling, a medevac chopper coming in for a landing, Greta's excited barking.

“Hey!” A shout as the dog broke free. A cold nose nuzzled him, then a warm, eager tongue swiped his cheek, over and over again.

“Greta, girl,” he said, with an attempt at a laugh that came out more as a bleat. “I'm okay. I'm okay.” Satisfied, Greta moved on to Rachel, just emerging from the rubble. She draped her warm, wiggly body across her beloved owner's chest. Fred let go of Rachel's hands and tried to pull himself onto his knees, only to groan from the pain.

“Someone grab the dog,” he called. Rachel needed medical assessment before any more doggie love.

“You reopened your head wound,” came the rough voice of Mulligan. He was kneeling next to Fred, doing a quick check of his injuries. “It's always something with you and that girl.”

“Mulligan? What are you doing here?” He stared, bewildered, at the rugged, broken-nose face of the newest member of Station 1. Behind Mulligan, he could see the USAR crew extracting the air bags, and two San Gabriel police officers.

“Vader sent me. Every firefighter in town called in so we have hands to spare. So you got mine, baby. The USAR crew has to take off, but I'm staying.”

The paramedic at Rachel's side gave a thumbs-up. “Your girl's pulse is thready but she's okay, Freddie.”

Rachel made a soft sound. Fred, forgetting the pain in his knees, scrambled to her side, followed by Mulligan.

“Sweetie? Did you say something? Are you awake?”

“Fi . . .” She mumbled.

Fred, completely mystified, looked at Mulligan. “Can you understand what she's saying?”

“I heard an F and an S. French fries? Are you hungry, Kessler? Did you work up an appetite under all that rubble?”

Rachel pushed the EMT's hand from her throat and sat up. “I said,” she said, coughing. “I'm not just his girl. I'm his fiancée.” Fred put his arm around her, supporting her while she hacked up more dust.

“Okay then. Fiancée. Good work, Freddie-boy.” Mulligan slapped him on the back, making him cough too. “You work fast, bro. Not everyone crawls into a collapsed building and comes out engaged. No wonder they call you the Bachelor Hero.”

“Shut up, Mulligan.” Fred kept his focus on Rachel, tenderly smoothing the hair from her face, brushing mortar crumbs from her cheeks. In the harsh light of the spotlight the crew had set up, her eyes glimmered with a glorious, mysterious violet sheen.

“Or what? You'll beat my ass?” One look from Fred had Mulligan backing down. “Right. You will. You can. But you won't, since I just saved
your
ass, and I think that earns me a spot in the wedding party and . . .”

But Fred didn't hear the rest, because Rachel had taken his face between her hands and was kissing him so deep and hard, he forgot where he was. He could have been back under the rubble, in Rachel's elevator, or in a bumper car, for all he knew. The only thing that mattered was he was with Rachel, she was alive, and they could hold each other and love each other until the sun rose and set and rose again.

S
an Gabriel was hit hard by the quake, which the United States Geological Survey named the Los Feliz Earthquake, after the neighborhood of its epicenter. Dozens of people were injured, a hundred homes damaged beyond repair. Two overpasses collapsed and much of the city lost power for up to twenty-four hours. But thanks to the dogged efforts of the city's first responders and emergency workers, no lives were lost. Stories would be told for decades about the neonatal intensive care unit nurses, who carried each tiny patient to safety after a gas leak was discovered at Good Samaritan. Grocery stores handed out food and water, restaurants brewed endless pots of coffee, residents brought blankets and snacks to the overcrowded shelters.

Rachel had never loved her adopted city more.

After making sure she was in good medical hands, Fred reported to duty with the USAR team and spent the next long hours going from one hard-hit neighborhood to another, helping trapped victims and putting out fires.

As soon as Rachel was released from the emergency room, she went straight to the makeshift pet shelter to tend to the panicked animals rescue workers kept bringing in. A news crew showed up, shooting a story for their twenty-four-hour coverage of the earthquake. Recognizing her, the reporter made a beeline in her direction.

Facing the camera, Rachel took a deep breath and embraced her new existence, that of a public person with a meaningful mission. She explained how she was helping the animals and what people should do if they were missing a pet. She offered a list of supplies the shelter needed. When the reporter asked her to spell her name for the camera, she didn't hesitate.

Rachel Kessler
, she told him.
San Gabriel resident
.

Her father arrived soon after. Since the shelter was a madhouse and terribly stinky, she met him outside, where he leaned against his black sedan. At the haunted look on his face, she burst into tears. He strode toward her, enfolded her into a long, hard hug, and poured out a stream of apologies.

“Stop it, Dad,” she said, finally pulling away and wiping the tears off her cheeks. “It wasn't your fault.”

“We investigated the Zander family seventeen years ago, but everyone checked out. We should have run a report on the entire police department when you came here. Sneaky rat-weasel.”

“It wouldn't have made a difference. I bet he joined later, after I decided to stay.”

“Smart girl.” And he hugged her again. “You're tougher than he is, you proved it. Twice now. Don't mess with a Kessler. Look at you, safe and sound.”

“Fred deserves a little credit for that too. It's not every day your office falls on top of you.”

“Sure.” He gave an expansive gesture to include the entire town. “I figured a donation to the San Gabriel Fire Department should do the trick.”

Rachel put her hands on her hips and shook her head at her father. “I had a different idea. I'm going to marry him.”

“
Marry
him?” The black wings of his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “That's going a little far, don't you think? Marry a fireman?”

“Marry
Fred
the Fireman,” she corrected. “The fireman I'm in love with. He's no ordinary guy, you know.”

“I know.” The frown cleared from his face. “At this point, I'm not sure I'd trust anyone else in the world with my daughter. I just hope he knows what he's getting into.” He winked.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You're on the willful side. Hardheaded. When you were little, you never did as you were told. Always tearing about the place like a little wild thing. Never could keep you in one place. But I realized something.” He took her by both shoulders and fixed her with that intense, unblinking stare.

“What?”

“I never should have tried.” He shifted his feet, looking nothing like the powerful visionary who'd faced down Congress. “I let you down once, letting you get taken. I didn't want to fail my daughter again.”

“Oh Dad.” She curled her hand around his forearm, savoring his familiarity, the citrusy scent of his aftershave, the nervous energy he always radiated. “You never failed me. I just need more—”

“You need to live. I see that. You need to reach for the stars and follow your passion and fall in love and whatever the hell else you think of. You're going to do great things, Rachel, all on your own. Without your paranoid parent. I suppose you're keeping the fireman around. So be it. Where is he, by the way? I want to thank him personally.”

“He's . . .” She gestured at South Harlow Street, which was still eerily empty compared to the usual bustle of midday. “Out rescuing someone or putting out a fire. Being a hero. That's what he is, even though it's hard for him to admit it.”

“Hmm.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“Me too, honey. Me too.”

B
efore they set
a wedding date, Fred insisted on one more thing. One night about two weeks after the earthquake, he dragged her to Lucio's Ristorante Autentico Italiano, the restaurant owned by former fire chief Rick Roman. At an intimate cushioned booth, by the light of a wall sconce adorned with plastic grapevines, sat four women. Baskets of garlic bread and glasses of red wine cluttered the table. The only woman she recognized was Melissa, who stood up and ushered her into the booth.

“We'll take it from here, Fred,” Melissa told him. “You can go.”

“What's going on?” Rachel asked, slightly panicked to see Fred back away from the booth, leaving her with a bunch of unfamiliar women who seemed to mean business. He gave a quick wave and disappeared. The dark-haired girl next to her smiled and pushed a glass of red wine toward her. Rachel took a long sip, peering around at the group.

“Fred wants us to make sure you know the down-and-dirty truth about being married to a fireman before you take the ultimate step,” explained Melissa, sliding next to her. “That's Katie Blake next to you, she's married to Ryan, who used to be at the 1's before he started the new academy.”

Petite and dark-eyed, with inky black eyebrows, Katie looked like a live wire, someone who would be really fun to have around. She gave Rachel a jaunty little two-fingered salute of greeting.

Melissa turned to the lovely, lush-figured woman right across from her. She had pink-streaked blond hair piled on her head. “This is Cherie, she's married to Vader, the captain on the engine company.”

Cherie offered up a friendly smile and said, with a slight down-South accent, “Pleasure to meet the girl who won our Freddie's heart.”

“Sabina wanted to be here, since she can offer a unique perspective, being a firefighter
and
married to a firefighter, or at least a former one. But the crew's kind of busy, so she couldn't make it. Next to Cherie, we have Dr. Lara Nelson, Psycho's wife, who took a break from helping out at the rescue shelters. She drove all the way from Nevada to volunteer her medical skills.”

A gorgeous amber-eyed, blond woman, Lara leaned forward and patted her on the hand. “Sorry to ambush you like this. But none of us can turn down Fred. You know how it is.”

“Fred dragged you into this?”

“Yes,” answered Melissa. “My friend Nita Moreno, who's married to Jeb Stone, wanted to come too, but she's busy at the mayor's office dealing with the press. Thor's wife Maribel isn't getting in until tonight. She's flying in from Alaska just to lend a hand.”

Rachel counted up all the women who'd been mentioned. Melissa, Katie, Cherie, Lara, Sabina, Maribel, and Nita. “So all of you are married to firemen and you're supposed to tell me why it's a bad idea? Talk me out of it or something?”

The women exchanged a cautious look. “There are probably certain things you should be aware of,” said Lara. “For instance, during wildfire season, I worry all the time.”

“It's almost like sending your husband off to war every other day,” agreed Cherie. “And the annoying thing is, they love it. If you're thinking you'll get him to quit, forget about it.”

“I'm not—”

“They think it's their job to save the whole world,” interrupted Melissa. “It makes them overprotective and maybe . . . dare I say, bossy?”

The other women murmured their agreement. Katie raised her hand. “Getting married to a firefighter is like marrying into a whole new set of brothers. And I already have enough brothers, let me tell you. The firehouse is like a frat house sometimes.”

“Other girls will flirt with him,” threw in Cherie. “Hose chasers, some people call them. If you're the jealous type, you might have a problem.”

If she could handle Fred's fan club, she could handle anything. “I'm really not—”

“You have to be okay with being alone,” added Melissa. “They work overnight shifts at least two nights a week. With the baby and Danielle, sometimes that's tough.”

“I'm very used to being—” But they were on a roll now and Rachel couldn't get a word in edgewise.

“But then their shift is over and they're home for four days, practically bouncing off the walls. So you have to like that too,” said Cherie.

“That doesn't sound so—”

“If they catch a bad call, it stays with them for a long time. And each firefighter handles it differently,” said Melissa. “Sometimes I wish I could be out there in the middle of it all, instead of home worrying.”

“They're adrenaline junkies. Type A personalities. Alpha males,” said Lara thoughtfully. “And they're never really off the job.”

Katie nodded in agreement. “If you're at a restaurant and someone starts choking, boom, there goes your guy.”

“Right. It's not just fires. If someone's robbing the 7–Eleven, they'll charge right in like it's their personal business,” said Cherie. “And if it's something medical, they think they know it all.”

And then they started in for real, talking over each other, while Rachel took refuge in her wine.

“ . . . knot in your stomach whenever you hear the siren going by . . .”

“ . . . has anyone mentioned the smell? Sweat and retardant and . . .”

“ . . . better get along with the other fire wives . . .”

“ . . . right, because there goes the rest of your social life . . .”

“ . . . I check the news a lot more often . . .”

“ . . . they miss birthdays and anniversaries . . .”

“ . . . constant laundry.”

The women took a collective pause for breath.

“Then again,” said Katie thoughtfully. “When Ryan comes home, I'm so happy he's okay, I can't get enough of him. So I guess there's a silver lining.”

“Oh yes, it's like makeup sex
every
time Vader comes home from a shift,” agreed Cherie.

“Really? Then it's not just me and Brody?” asked Melissa.

“Oh no. Hot sex.
Very
hot sex,” Lara said, with a sound almost like a purr. “You know what they say about danger enhancing the libido. I think it's scientifically proven.”

Rachel was pretty sure her face had turned as red as the vinyl booth.

“And their hearts are in the right place,” said Katie. “They're good men, they really are.”

“The absolute best,” said Melissa.

“No argument there,” murmured Cherie. “You can count on them to your last breath. I wouldn't want anyone else as the father of my future child.”

“What? You're pregnant?” Katie gave an exuberant squeal, and all the women turned to Cherie with delight.

“Figured I'd better explain why I passed on that wine. Y'all know I've never done that before.”

“I didn't want to say anything, but of course I noticed,” said Melissa.

“You and your evil reporter ways,” Cherie teased.

“So.” Lara turned laughing eyes on Rachel. “Did we talk you out of it?”

Rachel opened her mouth, closed it again, fighting the smile that threatened to split her face wide open. “I think I get the picture.”

“More wine?” Katie refilled her glass. “Because now we have some questions for you.”

By the time Rachel stumbled out of Lucio's into the fresh, starlit night, she had a pretty good buzz on. Fred was leaning against his truck, waiting for her. He looked a little worried, so she skipped across the sidewalk and threw herself into his embrace. Even though he had no warning, he caught her.

“What did they tell you?” He wrapped his strong arms around her.

“The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” she intoned drunkenly.

“Oh no, they gave you wine. I should have warned them about that.”

“They're beautiful.
You're
beautiful. I love you. With my heart, my whole heart, and nothing but my heart.” Rising on tiptoe, she scattered kisses along his jaw. “Okay, my body too.”

“So we're still getting married?”

“If you were trying to talk me out of it, you'll have to try harder than that.”

“It's not that I was trying—”

“No, no, I get it. You wanted to do the honorable thing, because you're Fred and that's how you are. Strong and true and kind and honorable. I never even dreamed of a man like you. But here you are.” She blinked. “You're still here.” Blinked again. “Still here.”

“Just how buzzed are you?”

“Buzzed enough to know we belong together. Same as when I'm not buzzed.” She snuggled even closer and threw her whole heart and soul into the smile she aimed up at him. “You know what I wish we could do? I wish you'd take me home so we can have hot makeup sex even though we haven't exactly had a fight, but maybe we could have that other fight again, the one about Kale and the kidnapping, and
then
we could have hot makeup sex and—
oof
.”

He swooped her into his arms and swung open the door of his truck.