by Amy Knupp
Faith frowned. “I believe that’s called stubbornness, not strength.”
“Your mother has really never supported your career?”
“That’s an accurate assessment. She and my dad used to argue all the time when I was a teenager and insisted I wanted to follow in his footsteps.”
“I don’t know what I’d be doing right now if my dad hadn’t been a firefighter.”
“You don’t think you’d be doing this?”
Joe hesitated. “No idea. My dad was the chief, my mom is a fire buff and an original member of the Burn Foundation. I don’t think I ever really considered other options.”
He seemed genuinely bothered by the discovery.
“You love fighting fires,” Faith said. “I can tell when we get a good call.”
“I like my job.”
“Sure, but this is more. You…come alive when there’s a fire.”
Joe nodded. “Hell, yeah. Best part of the job. Don’t think you could find a firefighter who wouldn’t agree with that.”
She flinched. Most days, she’d be the first to agree, but lately she didn’t know whether to be excited or full of dread when they got some action. “Don’t you think you’ll miss that if you become assistant chief?” she asked, relieved to have the spotlight off her own weaknesses.
“Might. That’s the way it goes.” His answer came quickly. Too quickly.
She watched him in the near darkness, wondering how much thought he’d really given to what it would be like, moving up in the department. Sure, he’d planned it his whole life. But planning as a kid with big dreams and really considering something as an adult were two different things.
Who was she to point that out to him, though?
Who was she to tell anyone how to live his or her life or do his or her job? After today she wondered if she would ever be able to do hers right again.
“We were talking about you, not me,” Joe said sternly, and if Faith hadn’t been so depressed she might’ve grinned.
“Thought we were done.”
“You know I have to write you up.”
That was the insult on top of the injury, as far as she was concerned. “Yep.”
“There’s no way around it. You could’ve been seriously—”
“I know, Joe.” She sucked in the cool evening air, trying to calm herself. It wasn’t his fault, but the way he was trying to justify it only made her feel worse. As if she’d let him down as well as herself. “I get it. I told you I don’t want any special favors. Anyone else would get the same treatment.”
“Correct.” He glanced behind them at the station, which was lit up like a stadium on game night. He slid his hand over hers, startling Faith. “Right now, however, I’m treating you differently than I would the other firefighters.”
She glanced down at their entwined fingers. Knew she should pull away, yet couldn’t. Call her Ms. Hypocrite, but his hand was strong. Warm. Reassuring somehow.
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you’re harder on yourself than anyone else ever could be,” he said. “Speaking as your captain, we need to find a way to get you over your hesitation, because that could be deadly.”
Faith nodded, her throat blocked by a lump of emotion. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know, but his use of the word we made her feel as if maybe she wasn’t hopeless. Maybe she could figure out how to get her mojo back.
“I’m behind you, Faith. I know you’re better than what happened today.”
“Is that spoken as my captain, too?”
He looked back at the water, the white tops of the waves visible in the dark. “Yes. And…as something else.”
She was afraid to ask what. Her father’s protégé? A friend? Something else? Something forbidden?
Yeah, definitely best not to ask.
She swallowed hard. “Thank you. I’m going to go inside now.”
Before she touched him again or, God forbid, started liking him even more.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“GREAT DAY FOR FISHING,” Joe said, leaning back in his seat in the stern of the Hot Water, the chief’s trawler yacht. It was more a luxury boat than something meant for fishing, but it worked just fine to sit out here with a couple lines in. They were in the bay, close to where it met the Gulf of Mexico. One of the chief’s preferred fishing spots. They were near enough to shore that Joe could make out some people there.
“Not too bad,” Chief Peligni said, looking up at the cloudless, early evening sky through his sunglasses. “Don’t get out here much anymore.”
“Shame to keep this beauty tied up.”
Joe had brought up the boat the other day at work, planning to get Chief Peligni out of the house, as he’d promised Faith. The chief had beat him to it, though, inviting him to an evening of fishing.
“Suppose it is. Need another beer?”
Joe nodded, and the older man stood and went into the cabin, returning a couple minutes later with two cans and a bag of cheese popcorn.
“So,” the chief said, settling on one of the seats and putting his feet up. “You going to tell me what the hell happened with Faith the other day? The reality version and not some damn watered-down crap from the report.”
That explained the invitation, Joe thought. Just as well. He’d been expecting to have this discussion before now. But Chief Peligni had seemed distracted, not really engaged at work.
“What do you want to know?” he asked, setting the beer aside. This could get tricky. He was sure to be straddling a fine line between what the chief needed to find out and what Faith had told Joe in confidence about her state of mind.
“How in the name of God above did she end up needing you to carry her out of a goddamn structure fire? She’s better than that, Joe. What happened?”
Joe told him about the furniture store, that there had been crap everywhere, making it a bitch to get through. “She tripped. Hit her head.”
“Got that from the report. Why was she alone? Did someone else screw up?”
“No. According to Faith, she thought Nate was behind her when she went in.”
“Dammit. The girl knows better than that in her sleep.”
Joe was in full agreement, but knowing what she’d been going through since her injury made him more sympathetic. However, he didn’t dare defend her to her father without sharing that information, or the chief would be suspicious of his motives.
Granted, there was good reason for that suspicion. The dreams Joe had been having about Faith were proof enough.
He needed to do something about his attraction to her. Maybe move to North Dakota.
“She was off her game, I guess,” he said vaguely. “I don’t think it’ll happen again.”
“No. Faith’s good.”
Joe’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out, surprised he had a signal out here. His stepfather, according to caller ID.
“Mendoza,” he said automatically.
“Joe, I’m at the hospital,” Jorge said, making Joe’s gut sink. “It’s your mom.”
“What’s going on, Jorge?” Joe stood, as if that could help him absorb the news better. His mom frequented hospitals, especially lately, but he’d never get used to it.
“Apparently she’s got pneumonia in both lungs. Hitting her pretty hard.”
Joe swore. That was an understatement, he knew. A head cold hit his mom hard due to her fragile health. Lupus and vasculitis weakened her system significantly. Pneumonia could… He shook his head. Not going there.
“You in Corpus? At Memorial?” he asked.
“Room 319.”
“I’ll be there. Thanks, Jorge.”
“Get here safe. I’m not going to be the one to tell her you’re in a car wreck.”
“See you in a couple hours.” Joe ended the call and swore some more.
“What’s the matter?” Chief Peligni asked.
“My mom’s in the hospital with pneumonia. With her other health problems, it’s
serious.” He stared at his phone helplessly. “Possibly deadly. I need to get to her.”
“She’s in Corpus Christi?”
Joe nodded, pacing the deck, feeling trapped.
“Pull the lines in. I’ll take you to the marina and Faith can get you up there.”
“I can get myself up there, Chief.” He started reeling in the lines as the chief had directed.
“You’ve had four beers.”
“So have you.”
“I’ve had three, and I’m not wanting to drive a hundred miles on the highway. There’s no boat traffic between here and my slip.” He nodded in that direction, and they were close enough that Joe could see he spoke the truth. “Besides, I got you doubled in weight.”
“I’m okay,” Joe said, but he knew Chief Peligni was right. “Faith has better things to do with her time.”
The chief had already pulled his phone out and pressed a speed dial button for his daughter. He briefly told her what was going on, nodded repeatedly, answered her questions and ended the call.
“She’ll be waiting at the marina parking lot.”
“Fine.” Joe was bothered by inconveniencing Faith, but frankly, he couldn’t dwell on that when his mom was in grave danger. Her immune system was weak on a good day. She’d been worn down recently. After all her years of battling the autoimmune disease, he should be used to the possibility of a worst-case scenario, but he wasn’t. He’d never accept that his mom wouldn’t be around forever.
By the time they made it to the marina, Joe was ready to dive off the side of the boat and swim to get there faster.
He and the chief tied up the boat and he stepped ashore. “You coming?” he asked as he walked along the narrow pier to the main dock.
Chief Peligni shook his head and waved him off. Joe didn’t have time to question him. It was probably best that he stayed put and let the beer lose its effect, anyway.
Faith stood against the wall of the marina store, watching him approach. As preoccupied as he was, he still couldn’t help noticing how good she looked in thigh-hugging jeans that ended just below her knees, a white tank top and denim jacket. Heels made her muscled legs look even longer than usual. Her hair was held back by a thin headband, with chin-length strands left to frame her beautiful face. She looked like…one hell of a woman. A very pretty, feminine one. Her appearance revealed nothing of the very capable firefighter she was. As he walked nearer, he noted the large turquoise pendant that hung enticingly just above her cleavage.
“Took you guys forever to get back,” she said, pushing herself off the wall as he approached.
“Tell me about it. Faith, I’m sorry to interrupt your night. You look like you had plans.”
“Just a movie with Nadia and Mercedes. No big deal.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it. I could’ve made it—”
“Joe?” she said, clicking the doors unlocked as they approached her Subaru. “Yeah?”
“Technically, right now, you’re not my officer, since we’re off duty. I’m fine with driving you to Corpus. You know I respect the heck out of you, but please, just close your mouth and get in the car.”
He stopped a few feet from the passenger door and stared at her.
“Your mom is waiting,” she said sternly.
He mimicked her sternness, nodded and did as she said. Unfortunately, he found her sexy as hell when she got bossy.
FAITH’S HEART WENT OUT to the four men—Joe, his stepfather and two stepbrothers—as the doctor walked out of the otherwise empty waiting room on the third floor of the hospital.
No one said a word while they absorbed the prognosis: Joe’s mother was severely ill, her fever climbing dangerously higher as her weakened body waited for some powerful antibiotics to knock out the bacteria. She was in intensive care and had been sleeping since Joe and Faith had arrived.
“She’s stubborn,” Troy said, leaning back stiffly in one of the uncomfortable, lime-green chairs. He wore neatly tailored pants and a button-down shirt, even at this late hour. “If anyone in her condition can beat this, it’s Carmen.”
Joe abruptly stood and walked out of the glassed-in room to the main hall. Faith craned her neck to see where he was heading, but he paced out of her line of sight.
She looked back at the three men still in the room and caught Joe’s stepfather watching her.
“I’m glad you’re here with him,” Mr. Vargas said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “He tries to be such an island, but this could really tear him up.”
“I wish there was something I could do,” Faith said, detesting her helplessness.
The other stepbrother, Ryan, stood and ambled to the doorway, repeatedly rubbing his fingers over his goatee. “How involved are you two?” he asked Faith.
She shook her head. “We’re not.” It wasn’t really a lie. Kissing once didn’t make them involved. Just stupid.
Ryan angled his head slightly, thoughtfully. “Must’ve misread things. Too bad. He needs someone like you in his life.”
“He’s my officer,” Faith said, sounding defensive. She stood. “I’m going to go find him.”
Mr. Vargas nodded, sidetracked by his own sorrow. His affection for Joe’s mom was obvious. Heartwarming.
“Can I bring you guys something from the machines?” she asked. “A drink or some chips or something?”
All three shook their heads, and Troy thanked her.
She headed down the hall Joe had taken, but didn’t see any sign of him. At the nurses’ station, an older woman in cartoon character scrubs must have noticed her confusion.
“Looking for the big guy? Navy-blue shirt?”
Faith nodded.
“He’s out on the terrace.” She indicated a glass door farther down the hall. “Thank you.”
Faith went through the door, which led to an open-air rooftop terrace. Neatly trimmed shrubs had been shaped into hearts and stars and placed at intervals around the perimeter, and a raised flower bed showed sprouts of green beginning to pop through the soil. The terrace was deserted except for Joe, who stood near the low wall that ran around the entire area. Because of the angles of the odd-shaped space, he was in partial profile to her. He leaned on the wall, looking out over who knew what, seeing nothing, she was sure.
She walked toward him, the cork soles of her wedge shoes making very little noise on the pebbled concrete. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t appear to hear her approach. When Faith touched his forearm, he jumped.
“Hey,” she said, not letting her hand drop.
He looked straight at her, a deep sadness etched into his normally stoic face. “Hey.” There was no hint of the ass-kicking, confident fire captain in his voice.
“Can I get you anything? Some coffee?”
“Some grain alcohol,” he said solemnly.
“I wish that would make things better somehow.”
“You and me both.”
“Okay if I stand out here with you?”
“Fine by me.”
Faith joined him in leaning on the wall and watched the comings and goings of people below at the brightly lit entrance to the emergency department.
“You don’t have to stay here. I can get back to San Amaro on my own,” Joe said after several minutes.
“I don’t mind.”
“You go on duty in the morning. Go home. Sleep.”
“So do you,” she said, neither one of them admitting they didn’t know what the morning would bring or if he’d be able to make it in to work at all. “I can catch a nap inside if I get tired. Right now I’m fine.”
He looked down, seeming to focus on her for the first time since she’d come outside. “You won’t leave, will you?”
She shook her head. “You’re beginning to know me well.”
“I know you’re stubborn as all get-out.”
“Thank you.”
With a ghost of a smile, he put his arm around her and tugged her to his side. He held her there, both of them watching
an ambulance pull up and unload a patient below. She figured he needed the contact, the human touch, and it felt good to be tucked into his side.
“Your steps seem like decent guys,” she said after several minutes, wanting to somehow reach out to him.
“They’re okay. For lawyers.”
“All three of them are lawyers?” Joe didn’t talk much about them. In fact, before the drive up here, she hadn’t known he had any stepbrothers, and had heard him mention his stepfather only in passing.
“All three of them. Same firm. Do me a favor and don’t ask them about it. They’ll get to talking like a bunch of girls—no offense—and never shut up.”
Smiling, she said, “No offense taken. I’m not often accused of being chatty.”
“I like that about you.”
“So you’re not close to Troy or Ryan?”
He shook his head. “We hang out sometimes to appease my mother, but it’s just for show.”
“They seem genuinely concerned about you,” she said, recalling the conversation after he’d walked out of the waiting room.
“No reason to be concerned. I’ll be fine.”
“I was once accused of overusing the word fine when I didn’t want to get into detail.”
“Yeah?” He peered down at her with a tired but almost amused expression. “Who accused you of that?”
“Some wise guy know-it-all officer type.”
“As long as you don’t let those officer types hear you talk like that about them you’ll be fine.”
She glanced up at him to gauge whether she’d offended him. It was difficult to tell. “We’re not on duty right now. Technically, you’re not my—”
“Not your captain. Got it.”
“My captain wouldn’t have his arm around me. That could get him in trouble.”
A low sound in his chest was probably as close as he’d get to a laugh tonight. “Point taken.”
“Are you ready to go back in? Sit with your family?”
“Surrogate family,” he corrected. “It’s easier to be out here.”
“How come?”
He removed his arm and she couldn’t help noticing the cool breeze that blew over her. Leaning on the wall again, he said, “Don’t have to put on an act.”