Too Near the Fire (16 page)

Gil turned around, bearing the breakfast on a tray. He proudly presented her a plate filled with eggs, home fries, and toast. “It’s edible,” he assured her, curbing a smile.

“Is there anything you aren’t good at?” she asked with a smile.

A twinkle appeared in his eyes. “I don’t know. Is there?”

His voice was low and suggestive, sending a shiver through her. Pretending to ignore his comment, she buttered the toast. “Are you always this sure of yourself?” she shot back primly.

Gil laughed, then reached over and touched her flushed cheek. “When I know the lady loves me, I am,” he said huskily.

Her heart thudded at the sensuality in his tone. Leah closed her eyes momentarily. “Gil…” she began awkwardly, “we have to talk…”

Squeezing her shoulder, he whispered, “After breakfast and after you’ve gotten dressed. Hurry, or the eggs will get cold.”

By nine a.m. she was dressed in a pair of apricot-colored slacks and a white short-sleeved blouse. Leah vaguely remembered packing a small overnight bag with Gil’s help the evening before, but not much else. Her exhaustion had been so complete that she recalled very little. Wandering out the back screen door, she saw Gil in the paddock petting the two part-Arabian mares. Halting, she watched as he spoke in quiet tones to the attentive animals. Both mares stood near his shoulder, nuzzling him. They were content to be in his presence. Wasn’t she the same way? Gil had that steadying effect on humans and animals. Memory of the traumatic fire came slashing into her reverie.

With a wave of his hand Gil motioned for her to come and join him. Leah walked at a slow pace. She approached the white-painted fence and leaned over the top rail.

“You all right?” he asked, giving one mare a final pat before slipping between the rails to join her.

“Yes and no,” she admitted.

“Listen,” he said, placing his arm against the post closest to her, “you’ll remember this fire for a while, honey. Fire fighting is the only profession besides police work that can give you wartime nightmares and daytime flashbacks,” he said grimly. “Tell me what you’re feeling inside.”

He put his arm around her, drawing her close. Gratefully, Leah rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder as he guided them through the small fruit orchard on the other side of the corral.

“I’m afraid,” she confided. “And I don’t know whether it’s because I almost suffocated or because I almost wasn’t able to save the children.”

His mouth drew in at the corners and he nodded grimly. “You’ve received a one-two shot, Leah. Not only did you run out of air, but other lives were at stake besides your own. I can remember the first time I ran out of air and how scared I was when it happened. Fortunately my partner was a seasoned veteran and he saved my life.”

She gazed up at him, unable to imagine him almost dying. Gil was so vital and strong. “How did it happen?” she wanted to know.

Gil stopped under the bough of an apple tree. The fragrant smell of ripening apples surrounded them like a perfume. Bees buzzed lazily through the warm morning air. “We were trapped on the second floor of a house. I had just joined the department as a volunteer and I didn’t even bother to check the gauge on my air pak to make sure I had a full supply of air in the tank. My partner, Bill, always checked his before he ever put it on.” Gil smiled wryly, remembering that day clearly. “I ran out of air ten minutes into the fire. When I grabbed at my hose and started panicking, Bill knew what happened. He yelled at me to hold my breath and then unscrewed the end of the hose on my tank. He put it on his own so I could get a breath of air from his tank. God,” he whispered fervently, “I was never so scared. I had a hell of a time trying to keep my head. We were disoriented in the smoke, but luckily we found the stairs and made it out to safety.”

Leah shivered. “That was too close. Down at the academy they drilled it into our heads that running out of air could make us panic.”

“They have the Situation Maze down there. That kind of training should help some,” he offered.

Leah recalled the maze. It was a house trailer that was designed to put rookie fire fighters through a series of tests to simulate actual conditions in a burning structure. Their face masks were taped to make them “blind.” Like everyone else, she had crawled around on her hands and knees for nearly half an hour groping her way through a series of mazelike problems. “Yes, and I did pretty well.”

“Did you run out of air?”

She nodded. “Just like everybody else. I made it to the window and I felt the air going. I started to release the hose from the regulator so I could breathe but the instructor yelled at me. I spent another twenty seconds gasping and clawing to find that damn window.”

Gil smiled. “Did you?”

“No. The instructor told me to release the hose. I never thought a breath of fresh air could smell so good.” She frowned. “It felt even better yesterday when you pulled that mask off my face.” She lifted her chin and stared deeply into his eyes. “I owe you my life.”

He smiled lazily. Slowly, he brought her into his arms, hands resting on her shoulders. “There’s only one way you can repay me, lady,” he murmured enigmatically.

Her lips parted. “I don’t understand….”

Gil raised one eyebrow, merriment in his blue eyes once again. “Think about it” was all he said.

* * *

The day had turned hot and humid by mid-afternoon. Thunderclouds were building up in the west, promising the possibility of rain by early evening. Leah was drying the dishes from lunch when Gil ambled back into the kitchen.

“Sure you’re ready to go visit those children?”

Her green eyes darkened with the memory of their pale ashen faces. “Yes, I have to,” she said, almost to herself.

He came over, drawing her near, resting his head against her hair. “Okay,” he murmured, “it might be good therapy for you. Every fire fighter has to deal with his or her emotions when it comes to children.”

“You don’t have to come,” Leah protested.

“Are you kidding? Come on, we’ll take the pickup.”

Her face was damp with perspiration as they entered the air-conditioned coolness of the hospital. Gil had mentioned that burn cases were airlifted by helicopter to a major burn center in Pittsburgh. But other than that, the hospital was equipped to handle all major injuries. At the desk the nurse directed them to the pediatric floor where the two children were being kept for observation.

Gil clasped her hand, giving her needed strength. Leah looked up at him gratefully. How did he know that she needed him at this moment? Her heart blossomed with even more love, if that were possible. They halted at the door. Leah recognized the mother instantly. Gil offered the woman a friendly smile as they quietly entered the room. Both boys were sleeping peacefully under their oxygen tents.

“Mrs. Barbara Griffin?” he asked softly.

The woman rose and tiptoed out of the room to join them. She wore a perplexed expression on her face as she looked first at him and then over at Leah. “Yes?”

Leah reached out to touch her arm. “We’re with the fire department, Mrs. Griffin. Gil and I wanted to come by and see how your boys were doing,” she explained.

Barbara Griffin’s eyes widened. She was pale, with dark circles beneath each of her eyes. “They’re going to be fine. Are you the ones who rescued Billy and Tad?” she asked, her voice strained.

Leah’s throat constricted with sudden emotion as she saw the other woman’s tears gathering in her dark brown eyes. “Well—”

“Leah and Apache rescued your boys, Mrs. Griffin,” Gil interjected.

“Oh,” Barbara sobbed, gripping Leah’s arm. “I struck at you! I’m sorry. That was horrible of me. It’s just that—”

Leah held her hand tightly. “I understand, Mrs. Griffin.”

“Please, call me Barbara. Oh, God, I owe you so much. All of the fire department,” she sobbed softly.

Leah traded an anguished look with Gil, who promptly put his arm around the woman, leading her to the nurse’s station. The elevator doors opened and Duke Saxon and Apache walked out. Introductions were made by Gil, and Barbara gripped each one of their hands, thanking the two male fire fighters.

“What is this?” Apache demanded, grinning broadly over at Leah and Gil. “You two just had to check on the boys, didn’t you?”

“I see we weren’t the only ones,” Leah noted.

“What are you doing back on duty?”

“Ah, my old lady was sitting there wringing her hands, smothering me with all this extra attention just because I got choked on a little smoke,” Apache admitted. He grinned carelessly, his brown eyes twinkling. “Angie was pretty upset over the whole thing, but I told her I wanted to get back into the swing of things, to keep from getting jumpy about the near miss.”

Leah noticed that Duke was also in the fire fighter’s uniform of serge blue trousers and light blue shirt. Apache carried a portable radio on his belt in case a fire call came in.

“How are the kids?” Apache wanted to know.

“They’re sleeping now,” Gil explained, “and they’ve got normal color.”

Apache clapped his hands together. “Great!” He came over to Leah and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You did a hell of a job, Leah.”

Gil frowned. “You should have pushed her out the window first,” he growled.

“Things got pretty intense in there, Lieutenant. I had to leave the wall to find the second kid and got disoriented. If Leah hadn’t come back for us…” He gave Leah a wink. “Like I said, I owe you.”

Barbara Griffin had dried her eyes and was listening to the easy banter between the fire fighters. She continued to wring her white handkerchief between her frail, thin fingers. “You all seem to take this incident so lightly,” she said, her voice hoarse. “How can you? You could have died, too.”

Leah traded a look with Apache. The Italian fire fighter gave the biggest grin he could possibly muster. “Not with Leah as my partner, ma’am. This lady is somebody you can really trust in a tight situation. She had everything under control. And she’s really the one who saved the boys. Me? I was out crawling around on my hands and knees trying to find the wall again after I located your second son.”

Leah blushed beneath the compliment, thrilled to hear how Apache felt. None of the fire fighters had ever given her a direct compliment before. Finally the last of the barriers had been removed between her and the men. She was no longer looked upon as a woman fighting fires, but rather as a fellow fire fighter. Her heart swelled with elation and she blinked back tears. Even Duke Saxon grudgingly nodded his massive head. Leah noticed that the hate no longer gleamed in his eyes when he regarded her.

Suddenly the fire alarm sounded on the radio Apache carried at his belt. They all exchanged a tense look as he picked it up and called into the station.

“This is a three-alarm signal thirteen,” the dispatcher said.

Leah drew in a sharp breath. A three-alarm meant that there was a fire somewhere in the city that demanded every available fire fighter, whether on or off duty.

“Roger the signal thirteen. We’re here at the hospital with Lieutenant Gerard and Leah.”

“The chief is rolling now. He says to get to the station and pick up your gear.”

All of them moved quickly toward the elevator. “Roger.”

“Engine twenty-four will be ready to take you to the scene,” the dispatcher said, signing off.

Silence dropped upon them in the elevator. Leah’s heart was beginning a slow pound. Each fire fighter’s face became devoid of emotion, their eyes intent, mouths set. She looked up at Gil.

“Where do you think it is?” she asked, knowing that the location of a fire was never broadcast over the air. If it were broadcast, there would be every reason to expect unnecessary gawkers at the scene, creating traffic congestion that might impede the progress of the fire engines and ambulances.

Gil lost his implacable look as he gazed down at her. His chest constricted with very real fear. Leah had not recovered physically or emotionally from the experience of yesterday’s fire. She wasn’t ready to work yet, but he knew she wouldn’t stand by idly in the three-alarm blaze. Grimly he pursed his lips. “Probably one of the five-story apartment buildings,” he admitted.

Leah’s eyes widened and she gasped, “Oh, God…no!”

None of them said anything as they raced from the hospital to the fire department car. Apache slid into the driver’s seat, throwing on the switch for the lights and siren as they roared out of the parking lot.

Leah clenched her fists in her lap, her mind racing ahead. Apartment building fires were notoriously dangerous. There would be adults, elderly people, and children to think about rescuing or evacuating. She broke into a cold sweat. That meant air pak again. She would have to enter smoke-filled apartments with a partner and search for people…

Gil gripped her hand. “Leah…”

“No. I’m going!”

His eyes darkened with pain. She had spoken with such force and conviction that there was no way he could talk her out of it. “It’s going to be bad,” he warned.

Her green eyes narrowed. “Tell me what fire isn’t?”

His grip tightened on her hand. “There might be children involved,” he warned, his voice barely audible.

“I can handle it,” she ground out.

When they arrived at the station Leah’s training took over. Everything became a blur as she went through the automatic motions of getting her gear, leaping on the pumper, and riding to the scene of the fire. As she stepped off the beavertail, Leah felt her emotions go dead. No longer was she trembling from adrenaline as she looked up at the five-story apartment building. She took in the fact that smoke was pouring out of the third-story region. A new calmness invaded her as she walked around the corner of the pumper with Apache to await Gil’s instructions.

Every available piece of fire apparatus from the city as well as from three volunteer fire departments outside city limits was on the scene. A dozen white-and-yellow hoses lay like fat slugs across the lawn and parking lot. They were strung from the whining, screaming engines or from nearby hydrants, pouring thousands of gallons of water into the fire. Leah shut off her hearing to the cries, the sirens, and the crowds of gathering people. Sweat trickled down her temples. The heavily insulated turn-out gear was stifling in the ninety-degree summer heat.