Too Near the Fire (8 page)

“You’ve made a hell of a comeback, Leah, despite some pretty long odds. You’ve got what it takes.” There was a new note of admiration in his voice.

“I’m trying very hard not to allow my feelings for Jack to interfere with the guys at the department. Duke hates me and I find myself getting defensive and snapping back at him.” She gave him a doleful look. “That isn’t good, Gil. Duke won’t trust me out at a fire scene and I don’t trust him.”

He squeezed her hand. “I wish you had told me this before, but it isn’t too late to start correcting the situation.”

A lump formed in her throat. “I don’t want to cause trouble!”

“Duke is just going to have to learn to handle his prejudice,” he said grimly, opening the door. He gave her a devastating smile.

“Come on, pretty lady, we’ve got a pair of boots to buy for you. A pair of glass slippers for my princess.”

Leah hesitantly allowed herself to be drawn into his sudden ebullient mood. As she walked with him toward the store, she felt another bit of the weight she had been carrying since the divorce slip free of her aching shoulders. Stealing a glance up at Gil, she tried not to examine too closely how she felt about him. They barely knew each other, and yet it seemed like they had known each other forever….

Four

L
eah had hoped that by the time her first two months of duty had gone by there would be a change in Duke Saxon’s attitude. Unfortunately, though the other men had warmed to her, Duke remained as hostile as ever.

She stepped into the front door of the firehouse, giving the dispatcher, Bill Colby, a warm smile. She was looking forward to seeing Gil on duty. She had noted a change in Gil’s attitude as far as she was concerned. It was as if he sensed her need to approach any new relationship slowly. Since that wonderful day in Cleveland, he had not asked her for a date.

She made her way to the kitchen and started preparing the menu for the day, since it was her turn. She hummed to herself, realizing that she was happy. Despite Duke’s stubborn attitude, everyone at the firehouse was adjusting to having a woman fire fighter aboard. She had to admit that her performance at fire scenes had helped to cement the trust between her and the men.

Chief Anders came hurrying by, gave her a brief nod, and resumed his pace, hands behind his back. She smiled to herself as she prepared a simple Yankee pot roast, complete with carrots, onion, and plenty of potatoes for Saxon, who seemed to live on them. After putting it in the refrigerator to be baked later in the day, she had just set about making fresh coffee when Gil ambled in. He smiled over at her.

“You look like a regular house Frau,” he teased as he sat down at the table and spread out some paperwork before him.

Her face was damp from working over a hot stove and tendrils of hair clung to her cheek. Leah returned the smile as she brushed the strands of hair away. “Believe it or not, I enjoy cooking.”

“Don’t let the guys hear you say that or you’ll become a permanent fixture in here.” He motioned for her to sit down. “How’s that burn on your neck?”

She automatically reached up, touching it carefully. Three days earlier she had received the injury at a house fire. “It stings a little, that’s all. Part of my dues for being part of the fire service.”

“Great welcome,” he snorted, riffling through a pile of reports.

She sat there in companionable silence with him for a few minutes before initiating a conversation. “Gil, how did you know that front door was going to blow?” she asked, referring to the incident in which she’d been burned.

He raised his head, meeting her troubled gaze. “I saw the glass bowing outward. The windows in the other rooms weren’t as bad, so I just put two and two together. The heat from the kitchen traveled to the foyer area first. I suppose you’re kicking yourself for not noticing it?” he asked dryly.

“Yes. I was taught to look for downed electrical wires in yards, windows bowing outward, and to approach a door from the side. Never walk up to it like I did.”

“Ten lashes with a wet noodle.”

“Come on, it was a bad mistake!” she flared, folding her hands tightly on the table.

“It could have been but it wasn’t. It taught you a good lesson—you’ll never make that mistake again.”

“You got that right,” she returned fervently, shaking her head at her own stupidity.

“Quit being so hard on yourself. You let me worry about rating your abilities. If I say you did a good job, just say thanks.” He tapped her arm gently. “I’m finding out you have one hell of a time taking a compliment. You take an insult much easier.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “I always look a gift horse in the mouth. Particularly when it’s a man giving me the compliment.”

“Not every male has an ulterior motive, Leah.”

Her mouth stretched into a grin. “Oh?”

His eyes danced with silent laughter. “Well, maybe some have positive ulterior motives instead of negative ones.”

“I can buy that.”

He resumed his paperwork and she got up to pull down two mugs from the pegboard behind the sink. “Want coffee?” she asked.

“Please.”

Leah returned to her chair, sipping the hot black liquid. It startled her how comfortable she felt around Gil. His easygoing nature had made all the difference in the world for her at the fire station. What would she have done if she hadn’t found someone like him here? Could she have endured the loneliness?

“Here, this just came off the mimeograph,” he said, handing her a flier.

Leah read it. “A department picnic next Sunday?”

“Yup. The chief throws it once a year. All the fire fighters and their families get together over at the local park. It ought to be a lot of fun. There’s swimming in the lake, softball, sack races for the kids, and good food.”

She glanced at him. “I haven’t met a male fire fighter yet who didn’t think of his stomach first.”

Gil smiled. “Listen, lady, being a bachelor now is hell on my digestive system. I get lucky when you cook here or when one of the wives takes pity on us and brings a home-cooked meal to the station. This picnic is a chance to get some more of that good food.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “You are so typically male!”

He joined her laughter. “If there are any leftovers from tonight’s meal, can I take them home in a doggy bag? It’s better than pulling out another frozen dinner on my day off.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious!”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s either that or just flat out ask you to invite me over for dinner some night.”

“And here I was feeling sorry for you. Just an elaborate trick to get an invitation.”

Gil rose, shuffling the finished paperwork together. “I could be cruel and invite you over to my house for beans and wieners. Then you’d make sure to invite me for dinner next time.”

A new joyous feeling enveloped her as she sat looking up at him. He had such a mobile, expressive face when he allowed that official mask to drop away. Leah held his gaze.

“Well?” he prodded.

“What?”

“Do I get the invitation?”

“Why don’t you reserve your options until after this meal,” she teased. “Like Duke says, I could poison you all.”

“Apache does a good job of that,” he countered with feeling. “I for one am glad to see a woman in the kitchen here. At least we eat decently when you draw the low card in the deck.”

She stood and pushed her chair back up to the table. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to try and rig the deck to make sure I cook most of the time?”

He tossed a smile over his shoulder as he walked out. “I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“Bet me,” she said under her breath, smiling.

* * *

Near six p.m. the men ambled into the kitchen, as if some silent cue for dinner had been given. The pot roast smelled delicious as she took it out of the oven. Apache came near, looking over her shoulder as she spooned the tender potatoes, carrots, celery and onions into another bowl.

“Damn, that smells good!”

She felt her hopes rise. Gil sauntered in and drew out a chair for her. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed, but no one was saying anything. Tonight the fire fighters were interested in getting their fair share of the food.

Afterward she served chocolate cake and freshly brewed coffee. Apache’s eyes fairly danced with satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach.

“Man, that was outstanding.”

Duke shot a black look in his direction. “Anything’s better than your cooking,” he growled.

Leah’s stomach began to knot and she lowered her gaze, feeling the tension returning once again.

“You’re like a damn garbage dump, Saxon,” Apache reported. “I don’t think you taste the food you gulp down.”

Wilson snickered. “That’s why he’s growing a pot belly. If you didn’t like the cookin’, Duke, why’d you make such a pig of yourself?”

“Aw, cram it,” he growled as he got to his feet, his chair scraping noisily against the linoleum floor.

“Duke, didn’t you have the next lowest card?” Gil asked.

“Yeah.”

“You get to clean up, then.”

Belligerently, Saxon placed his hands on his hips. “I ain’t cleaning up after any woman.”

Gil met his angry gaze coolly. “You will this one,” he answered.

Apache grinned, slapping Saxon on the shoulder as he walked toward the television. “What’s the matter, gotta eat humble pie?”

Gil rose. “You can help him too, Apache.”

The Italian turned, a startled look on his face. “Aw, come on, dammit, I was only teasing!”

“Fine, put your money where your mouth is, then,” Gil ordered.

Leah excused herself, unable to take the bickering any longer. She forced herself to maintain an unreadable expression as she disappeared up to the quiet of the second floor.

Sitting dejectedly on the edge of her assigned bunk, she exhaled a loud sigh, staring down at the highly polished wooden floor. There wasn’t anything she could do that would end up permanently mending the broken peace. On one hand she was indebted to Gil for his fairness in the situation. But on the other, his staunch defense of her was only going to fan the flames of dissension. She couldn’t win and it was placing Gil in a difficult position with Saxon. She got up and paced the length of the room, unable to contain the feeling of helplessness within her.

If she had been a man, no one would have raised an eyebrow, much less a stink. Her green eyes darkened with pain and confusion. Was the gulf between sexes too great to bridge? She recognized that Gil was doing all he could to help her. But she worried that the situation would create a rift between Gil and his fire fighters. Might they all lash out at Gil, making the pressure on him so great that he would quit? She had seen one of her instructors down at the academy unmercifully teased because he took her under his wing and defended her. Time, she told herself desperately, time would heal the wounds that she had ripped into the fabric of the department simply by being there.

* * *

Leah was anxious to leave the station the next morning. The floors had been swept and mopped, the engines polished, and all the gear cleaned. It had been a busy night. They were called out twice, once for a smoke investigation, and the other time for a car fire. Chief Anders finally dismissed them.

“Don’t forget,” Gil reminded all of them, “we’ll be off duty for the picnic that’s scheduled for August 28th. Have your wives bring a casserole or a dessert.”

“How about some of my spaghetti and meatballs?” Apache piped up, grinning broadly.

“Let your wife do the cooking,” Wilson begged, raising his hand in farewell.

Leah slipped out the side door and walked to her car. It was already warming up even though it was only eight in the morning. Hearing someone come up behind her, she turned. It was Gil.

“Is the offer still good?” he called, slowing up as he approached her.

She tilted her head, mystified. “On what?”

He ran his strong fingers through his dark hair. “Either you’re sending me a message to forget it or you’ve got your mind on something else,” he commented.

She stared up at him, lips parted as she searched her mind for what he was referring to. “Oh!” she gasped. Touching her brow she murmured, “I’m sorry, Gil…no…it’s the latter. I’ve just got a lot on my mind. I’d love to have you over for dinner soon.”

He broke into a teasing smile, his blue eyes brimming with deviltry. “Name the day and time and I’ll bring the wine.”

“How about tomorrow evening, say seven?”

“Sounds good.” He reached out and gripped her shoulder. “Get some sleep, you’ve got rings under your eyes. I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

A sense of happy expectation swirled around her as she gave the apartment one last critical survey. The last of the boxes had been unpacked over a month ago and everything was finally put away. The living room was comfortable, graced with pale yellow walls and heavy white drapes at the picture window. Two Boston ferns hung at strategic points, giving the place a look of freshness. She folded the orange and beige afghan one more time and hung it on the back of the rust-colored sofa.

While preparing the meal of seafood Newburg and the pastry shells that went along with it, Leah tried to sort out her emotional reactions to Gil Gerard. Every time she thought of his coming over for dinner, her pulse beat more strongly. She felt fear and a strange sense of elation at the same time. What did he want from her? A stolen moment in bed? An affair? He liked her, that was obvious. And it was equally obvious that she liked him…but where would it take them?

She stirred the seafood into the smooth sherry sauce and added a squeeze of fresh lemon. Despite her worries, she was determined to have a good time tonight. A knock at the front door interrupted her thoughts. She picked up a towel and walked through the living room. Gil stood there, looking in through the screen door, a bottle of wine tucked under one arm.

“Just in time,” she said, opening the screen. “Come on in.”

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you look in green?” he asked, handing her the chilled white wine. He gave her a slow appraising glance. His eyes met her curious gaze. “What did you do to your hair?”