Too Near the Fire (17 page)

Gil met her solemn eyes. “You and Apache get on air pak,” he ordered tightly.

This is it, she thought, moving through the motions of sliding the forty-pound air pak across her shoulders and strapping it tightly to her body. A new sense of steadiness made her feel even more sure of her capabilities. Apache had lost his smile. He gave her a nod of his head as he finished tightening the air mask over his face.

“Let’s go, Leah,” he yelled, gripping her arm with his gloved hand.

Gil put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Leah,” he called.

She halted, made a half turn toward him. Her heart wrenched in her breast as she saw the worry etched on his grim features. She reached out and touched his arm. “I’ll be okay,” she called loudly through the mask.

He took a step closer. “I love you, just remember that.”

Tears scalded her eyes and she nodded at him mutely. “And I love you….”

He compressed his mouth, then gave them a nod. “Okay, get going. Apache, the chief wants you two up on the third floor. Just be damn careful.”

* * *

It was seven-thirty in the evening and the temperature was hovering around eighty-two degrees. Leah sat tiredly on the curb with Apache at her side. Her face was streaked with gray smoke. Tendrils of her dark hair had escaped from beneath the helmet liner that framed her face. She was numb with exhaustion just like every other fire fighter at the scene of the seven-hour fire. Tiredly, she pulled the helmet off, freeing her hair, feeling the cooler air hit her hot, sweating skin.

“Oh, God, I never knew air could feel so divine,” she whispered, allowing the helmet to rest at her side on the curb.

Apache barely gave a nod. He was resting his head against his drawn-up knees. She placed an arm around his drooping shoulders. “You okay?” she asked, her voice hoarse and raw.

“Yeah…just so damn tired I could fall over. Man, that was a hell of a fire.”

She licked her dry, cracked lips. “It was. But we got everybody out. That’s what counts.” It was interesting that all fire fighters saw the success or failure of their efforts in terms of saving lives, not property. Leah gazed wearily at the line of pumpers, most of which were now shutting down. They had contained the fire to four apartments. And how many people had they rescued? She lost count of how many times she and Apache had shuttled back and forth down the smoky halls finding trapped people and taking them to the safety of the nearest exit stairs. Dully, all she could recall was going through one tank of air after another. The only rest they had had was the time it took to slide one tank out of the harness and to put another one in. At those times, someone would thrust a glass of water into their hands so that they wouldn’t become completely dehydrated.

“Well,” Apache finally muttered, “you feel like walking back to the pumper and stowing these air paks?”

She didn’t want to move. She didn’t know if she had the strength to stand. Her mind was occupied with only one thought: Where was Gil? Had he gone into the area of the fire or had he stayed back and acted as one of the tactical officers who directed the movements of the fire fighters? She hoped the latter. Finally she got up enough strength to answer.

“We may as well go back now, I guess. Think they’ll have some water for us?”

Apache grunted and stood slowly. “I hope so. Sam’s pretty good about finding some for us when we’ve been working a fire like this. Come on, grab my hand.” He put out his dirty, charcoal-smeared glove toward her.

Leah grasped it. Her knees trembled as she straightened up. The air pak hung heavily on her slack shoulders, and it felt like someone was pushing her into the ground because of it. They shuffled silently for more than a block before reaching the pumper. Leah was always amazed at the number of policemen and onlookers who milled around. The fire scene had become something akin to a carnival. She was too tired to even be angry about it; instead she searched for Gil.

Sam greeted them as they trudged wearily up to the rear of the pumper. “You look bushed,” he observed, helping them both out of their air paks.

“Just a little,” Leah said, unsnapping her turn-out coat and shrugging out of it. Mournfully she looked down at her clothes, the same blouse and slacks she had put on that morning: they were ruined. Her hair was plastered against her skull, wet from the monumental physical exertion she had demanded from her body. “Where’s Gil?” she asked Sam.

“Gil? He’s up on the third floor with the chief checking out the extent of the fire damage.”

“Did he stay down here most of the time?”

“No. The chief ordered him into the fire to direct it. The chief coordinated everybody else out here.”

Her green eyes widened with silent alarm. Apache turned his head to the left, studying her. “He’s okay, Leah.” A grin pulled at his mustached mouth. “You kinda like the guy, don’t you?”

She looked forlornly toward the apartment building in the distance. “Just sort of,” she returned softly, no longer caring if anyone knew of their love for each other.

“I got that hint when Gil grabbed you before we left to go up on the third floor. I thought he was going to cry.”

She wearily rubbed her face, feeling the grit upon it. “He was worried that I wouldn’t be able to stand the physical demands because of the fire we fought yesterday,” she explained. Fighting two huge fires back to back always made the situation more dangerous for a fire fighter.

Apache got up, stretching his wiry body in slow motion. His brown eyes danced with amusement. “You think I’m some kinda of dunce, Stevenson? Don’t you think I know love when I see it?” He hit her shoulder lightly with his fist. “I’m your partner, remember? Partners know each other pretty well. So cut the bit about you being tired from yesterday.”

Her teeth were white against her dirt-streaked face when she grinned. “What do you want? A confession?”

Sam interrupted, bringing them paper cups filled with water. They eagerly consumed four cups each before satisfying their thirst. “You two just sit here and rest,” Sam ordered. “There’s not much to do until Gil and the chief get back.”

Apache leaned back against the truck, closing his eyes. “So when’s the big day, Leah?”

“What?”

He opened one eye and looked at her. “Remember, I’m your partner.”

She smiled wearily, running her fingers through her bedraggled hair. “He hasn’t asked me, Apache,” she admitted.

He crossed his arms against his chest and grinned confidently. “He will.”

They sat there another half hour before Gil returned. Leah rose to her feet as soon as she saw him break free of the crowd. His yellow turn-out gear was dirtied and smeared with black stains. Leah anxiously perused his features, aware that he was just as exhausted as they were. He was also in air pak and she started forward, realizing his shoulders were slumped with tiredness. A hundred questions whirled in her mind but she was intent on only one thing: reaching his side to help him off with the gear.

Gil offered her a broken smile as she approached. In one hand he carried a portable radio that he had used throughout the fire to direct the various fire fighting teams. In the other he had his helmet, which dangled in his fingers by the leather chin strap. His blue eyes lighted up with pleasure as he met her worried gaze. Despite her exhaustion she looked beautiful. The white blouse she wore clung to her like a second skin. The wide red suspenders which held the black bunker pants up around her small waist looked out of place against the white material. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have displayed any kind of affection toward her in public. But it had been a hell of a fire and he had worried about her throughout the hours of the holocaust. Shoving the portable radio into his coat pocket, he reached out with his right arm and pulled her up against him.

Leah uttered a small cry and threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. “Oh, Gil,” she sobbed, “I was so worried about you.”

He laughed quietly. “Worried about me? God I was worried about you, lady.”

Tears streaked down her cheeks, making white paths through the grime. She drew away and gazed up into his strong, handsome face. “I was fine,” she choked out, her voice growing hoarse. “We got a lot of people out, Gil. I love working with Apache. It’s as if we read each other’s minds.”

He swept her back into the fold of his arm, relishing her closeness, the pliant curve of her body against him. “And I love you,” he whispered fiercely. “Come on, we’ve got to wrap up and then we can go home,” he murmured in her ear.

* * *

The clock struck nine inside the quiet farmhouse. The horizon was pale pink as the last light of the long day faded from the sky. Leah followed Gil through the house toward the bedroom. They had opted to get cleaned up at home instead of at the station. Technically, they still had the next day off. Turning on a light here and there, he led her through the bedroom and into the large bathroom.

“First things first,” he murmured, resting his arms lightly across her shoulders. “Let’s take a shower, eat, and then hit the sack.”

It sounded wonderful. Gil urged her to get cleaned up while he found some leftovers in the refrigerator to make a dinner for them. The hot, pummeling stream of water wiped the layers of sweat and grime off her body. It also relaxed all her sore, tired muscles so that by the time she emerged from the bathroom, she could barely keep her eyes open. Gil met her at the kitchen entrance and guided her to the table.

“Here, sit down,” he coaxed. He put a plate filled with a rich beef stew before her. “Eat,” he ordered. “I’ll take my shower now. When you get done, get into bed.”

Leah nodded, grateful for his attention. She watched him as he walked through the kitchen and disappeared into the living room. His shoulders seemed so wide that it looked as if he wouldn’t make it through the entrance. Shaking her head, she realized her mind was so muddled that she wasn’t seeing anything straight. She picked up the fork and forced herself to eat even though her appetite was nonexistent.

Gil had just come out of the bathroom in his light blue terry-cloth robe when she entered the bedroom. His dark hair lay plastered against his skull, gleaming wetly in the weak lamplight. There were shadows of exhaustion beneath his eyes.

Leah threw back the covers on the bed. “I don’t know who looks worse,” she muttered, “you or me.”

Gil grinned tiredly, draping the towel over one shoulder and running his strong fingers expertly through his hair to tame the strands into place. He came around the end of the bed, reaching out and pulling her into his arms. The terry-cloth robe was coarse against her cheek and smelled freshly laundered. She inhaled the scent of him, sliding her arms around his large torso to give him a long embrace.

“I love you,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, content to rest against his seemingly tireless body.

Gil leaned down, placing a kiss upon her hair. “I think you’re sort of special too, lady,” he murmured. He held her at arm’s length, his blue eyes dark and hungry with simmering desire. “I just have one question for you before we keel over.”

She tilted her head, her green eyes wide and lustrous with love. He was so warm, so vibrant. A soft smile curved her pink lips. “What?” she asked huskily.

Gil looked at her and then the bed. “You know, I sort of like having you around here.” He caressed her cheek fondly. “I don’t want to come home to the farm after putting in twenty-four hours at the station and be alone.”

Her heart filled with joy as she stared up at him. Her lips parted but words wouldn’t come. She saw him smile, his azure eyes warm with love. “But—”

“Say you’ll stay here with me forever,” he ordered quietly, cradling her face between his large hands. “Say you’ll be mine forever, Leah.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and her lips trembled. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted to be with you since the first day we met.”

Gil groaned softly and crushed her to him. They stood there for long minutes in one another’s embrace. Finally he released her, his face revealing his happiness. “Listen, we’ve got to sleep,” he said. “I was going to ask you to marry me today before the fire.” A rueful smile pulled at his mouth. “I couldn’t sleep now if I didn’t know your answer. You’re important to me, honey. More important than anything else.”

She laughed throatily, burying her head against his shoulder. “But right now, we both need sleep desperately.” She reached up and kissed his strong, responsive mouth. She melted in his embrace as he ardently returned her impulsive kiss. A soft moan rose in her throat; a coil of fire moved quickly up through her body. His tongue tantalized her, tortured her with a sweet promise of fulfillment. She sagged heavily against him, her breath coming in uneven gasps. Finally he broke free of her, his blue eyes burning.

“Sleep first,” he growled in her ear. He placed a series of small nipping kisses down the length of her slender neck. A delightful shiver of urgency coursed through her. “When we wake, you aren’t going to be safe,” he promised thickly, guiding her to the bed.

Leah snuggled close to Gil, her body fitting perfectly against his, her arm and leg thrown casually across him. She closed her eyes, content with his nearness. So much had happened in the last thirty-six hours. She had made love to Gil. Two major fires had occurred. And each time, lives had been saved and nearly lost. And best of all, Gil wanted her for his wife…his partner for life. A small sigh escaped her as she burrowed against his shoulder. Her dark hair lay like a blanket across his massive chest, his hand cupping her face in the silken tangle.

Despite overwhelming exhaustion, her mind struggled briefly with problems that would still have to be faced. With the fire fighters’ acceptance of her as one of the team, her job would be easier and the pressure to perform would be less. Would the chief force her and Gil to work different shifts? How many husband and wife fire fighting teams were there? Leah slid her fingers across the wiry hair of his chest, unable to answer all her questions. It didn’t matter. It would all work out because she and Gil had the maturity to make the compromises that were necessary. Their love for each other would overcome any barriers.