by Неизвестный
Freddy jumped up on the sofa and worked his way into Cassie’s lap. She stroked his soft fur, an act which never failed to soothe her.
Rebecca’s gaze swung back to Cassie. “You have it all, don’t you Cassie? A husband. A home. A business of your own. You finished high school. You graduated from college. All things Katy never got to do.”
Cassie drew herself up. Although Rebecca’s tone hadn’t changed much since she’d begun her monologue, Cassie sensed an attack. “Mrs. Robbins, all I’ve tried to do since Katy died is make her proud of me. You think everything I’ve done was for me, but it was for her, too, because I knew she wouldn’t get to do all those things. She’s a part of me,” Cassie said, thumping her chest. “She’s more a part of me now than ever. I have a tattoo of her initials, did you know that?” She held out her wrist so Rebecca could see the entwined letters surrounded by a wreath of hearts. “She’s right here where I see her every day. I think about her every day. She’s always with me. Always.
“I had a choice when she died. I could let myself die, too, or I could move forward and make something of my life. Something she wouldn’t get the chance to do. This is what I chose. I’m sorry if you think I didn’t suffer enough. I’m sorry if you think I should have died or you wish I had. I can’t change losing Katy.”
Rebecca started to speak, but Cassie stopped her. “One more thing you should know. The café? Part of the business plan calls for a percentage of the profits to be donated to a memorial fund in Katy’s name to support the kind of causes she cared about. Like the Literacy Foundation, because she loved to read.” Cassie rubbed Freddy behind the ears. “And the Humane Society. She loved volunteering there. I remember when she adopted Riley. She adored that dog.”
Riley had been a down-and-out Golden Retriever mix missing one paw and part of his tail. His sweet personality and devotion to Katy outweighed his physical flaws. Cassie was considering the name Riley for her baby. It worked for a boy or a girl, and no one had to know it had also been the name of Katy’s beloved dog.
“Riley’s dead, too.”
“Oh!” Subconsciously Cassie knew Riley probably wasn’t still alive. She didn’t know if her surprise was a result of Rebecca’s statement or the rather cold, clinical way she’d uttered it. Cassie held Freddy closer.
Rebecca remained silent for a moment, her gaze piercing Cassie but her expression gave no indication of what she was feeling or thinking. “Your entire life is a tribute to Katy, is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t know if I’d put it exactly that way, but yes, in a way, I suppose it is.”
“You want to commemorate Katy with these contributions. You think it will make up for what you did? It’s your way of atoning for killing Katy?”
“I didn’t kill her! It was an accident!” Cassie had said these same words to herself repeatedly in the past ten years. They hadn’t convinced her. She doubted they’d convince Rebecca.
Rebecca hadn’t forgiven her. How could she? Rebecca’s entire family had fallen apart. Who could she blame for that except the individual who had been responsible for Katy’s death?
Rebecca straightened as if preparing herself for more than a verbal outburst. “Very well. I, too, have something I’ve carried with me to commemorate my daughter’s memory.” She picked up the gift bag and set it in her lap. Gazing at the tissue paper covering the contents, she said, “I bought this a week after the accident. Every day since, I’ve thought about using it.” Rebecca stared at Cassie.
“I should have given this to you a long time ago.” Rebecca offered the bag to Cassie. Not knowing what else to do she took it.
Rebecca stood. She took a couple of steps then stopped. Her gaze bored into Cassie. “You’ll do what’s right in Katy’s place.”
Cassie had never experienced such a sense of relief as she did after Rebecca left. Freddy jumped down and paced to the door and back. He whined as if in inquiry when he returned to Cassie’s side.
Freddy pushed his nose against the gift bag. Cassie removed the tissue paper to reveal a shiny silver object and a small box with a miniature bow on top. Seconds ticked by as she stared at the contents. Slowly she reached into the bag and wrapped her hand around the smooth wood grip of the snub-nose revolver.
Inside the tiny box, Rebecca had gifted Cassie with a single bullet.
She smiled wistfully at the picture of her and Katy. Rebecca couldn’t forgive Cassie. Cassie couldn’t forgive herself. That was Katy’s place.
Backdraft by Kathryn Shay
A USA Today bestseller, Kathryn Shay has been a lifelong writer and teacher. She has self-published eleven original romance titles, thirty-six print books with the Berkley Publishing Group and Harlequin Enterprises, and one mainstream women’s fiction with Bold Strokes Books. She has won five RT Book Reviews awards, four Golden Quills, four Holt Medallions, the Bookseller’s Best Award, Foreword Magazine’s Book of the Year, and several starred reviews. Her novels have been serialized in Cosmopolitan magazine and featured in USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, and People. There are more than five million copies of her books in print, along with hundreds of thousands downloaded online. She lives in upstate New York with her husband and children.
When asked to use the phrase “I never thought I’d see you again” as the basis for the story in this anthology, my first thought was, “Romance novel — hero and heroine.” But what kept coming to me was “father and son.” So I ended up creating a complicated backstory for Riley, the main character, and his dad. Once I decided on the conflict, I knew immediately what the father had done. Earlier in the Hidden Cove series that “Backdraft” is a part of, a huge scandal occurred in the town. It was easy to make Riley’s dad a part of that — he committed an unforgivable sin, which Riley has never been able to forgive. Hence the estrangement. Building the story around a predetermined theme helped shape the entire plot.
“Hey, Gallagher, I hear your cutie’s subbing on the Rescue Squad tonight. You gonna bunk with her?”
Riley looked up from a copy of The Heart of Hidden Cove, a magazine produced by the husband of a firefighter he liked. “Say one word against Jane and I’ll deck you, Decarlo.”
“Ha! You and who’s army?”
The retort was accurate. He’d need a battalion to subdue Rocky Decarlo, the Rock, a hulk of a guy, with hands like baseball mitts and a body as big as the trunk of a tree.
Riley snorted back. He liked Rocky and knew the guy was wholly supportive of the women in the department. Besides, Jane Phillips could take care of herself. That trait was one of the many things he loved about her. Really, he’d been crazy about his childhood friend, turned high school sweetheart, turned fiancé for literally half their lives.
The magazine article on Hale’s Haven, a camp for the kids of firefighters and police officers that was held every summer, kept his attention until she walked into the kitchen.
Rocky greeted her with a big hug. “Wish you were on this shift more often, Phillips. We’d rather look at your beautiful face than Gallagher’s ugly mug.”
“Yeah, I can understand that.”
Janie wasn’t drop dead gorgeous and they both knew Riley was, but they joked about it. He dug her dark, short sassy hair, chocolate brown eyes and her 5’8” sturdy build. Also, Jane possessed an inner beauty which he’d seen when she was a gawky nerd in high school and he was a star football player. He’d fallen hard in that tenth grade science lab and was still madly in love with the woman.
She glanced over and winked at him. “Hi, hotshot.”
“Sweetie.” He smiled, grateful all over again that she was part of his life’s work.
The only thing he cared about as much as Janie, his mother, and a sister who’d given him two beautiful nephews was firefighting. He scowled. Too bad one of the boys was named after Riley’s degenerate father who’d once been his idol.
The captain of the rescue squad, Nick Evans, walked in. “Gallagher, your fan club’s outside. They came right from sch
ool.”
“Oh, fun. I love those kids.”
“Yeah, that’s why they keep bugging us.”
Ever since House 7 had gone on a call at an elementary school to put out a simple fire, the kids had rallied around Riley because he’d found a couple of little ones hiding in a closet and carried them out. He’d told them to stop by the fire station anytime — and they did.
A staticky voice crackled out from the P.A. “Fire on First and Liberty. Rescue Squad 7 and Quint and Midi 7 go into service.”
It was like somebody turned on a switch. All teasing evaporated and the men and women assigned to the three trucks in the house bolted up from wherever they were and met in the bay; the smell of gasoline and smoke was strong.
Three feet from the rigs, eleven sets of turnout boots and pants waited for them on the concrete. Riley kicked off his shoes, tugged on his boots and pulled up the bulky blue pants, securing them with yellow suspenders. Just before he hopped on the truck, he caught a glimpse of Janie heading toward the Rescue rig. Be careful, she mouthed.
He nodded to her. You, too.
They were lucky that way, having vowed not to worry about each other on the line. But it was easier to dismiss the danger she put herself in when she worked at her home firehouse and out of his sight.
A shiver skittered through him, a feeling something bad was going to happen today. Shaking if off, he noticed the kids out on the pavement. “Sorry, guys,” he called out. “Next time.”
Openmouthed, they watched him climb on the truck, where his turnout coat and self-contained breathing apparatus, commonly called SCBA, awaited.
Adam Langston, another firefighter on the Quint, drove the truck from the bay at high speed on the mild April night.
Lt. Tony Ramirez, seated next to him, warned, “Careful, Langston, we wanna get there.”
Sirens blared and horns blew as they rumbled through the April night, the streets crowded with traffic. And Riley did what he always did on the ride to a call. He closed his eyes. Centered himself. Focused on the task ahead. It was one of the many things his father had taught him. Be prepared. Get into the zone. You need all your wits about you to fight a fire.
In minutes, they arrived at the abandoned clothing store in the center of Hidden Cove. Since it was a one alarm blaze, company seven was the only one called. The Rescue Squad would search the building, the Quint would gain entry and slap water on the fire, and the small Midi’s job was to deal with medical issues. It had recently been replaced with a truck that had a bed area in the back so the paramedics could drive victims to the hospital.
Their battalion chief was also on scene. Mitch Malvaso was the town hero, a top-notch firefighter, and an all-around great guy. He made his way to them from his setup of Incident Command on his department jeep. “One floor building. Fire’s contained to the front, we think. Smoke color says no chemicals are in there which makes sense because the building was a clothing store. But be on your toes. You never know what the Red Devil’s gonna do.”
Another shiver ran through Riley. He ignored it and focused on the instructions shouted by the officers.
Captain Evans gestured to his crew. “Once the fire’s contained, the five of us will head inside and scour the back.” To the Quint, he added, “The rest of you’ll search the front.”
Though the building was abandoned, Riley knew that every section needed to be thoroughly searched. Since the structure was in the center of town, homeless people might have taken shelter inside. Hell, the fire could have been started by druggies free basing in there. Even the idyllic town of Hidden Cove, an hour outside of New York City, had its share of social problems.
When the Rescue Squad circled around back, Ramirez huddled with his crew. “Gallagher, follow me with the rabbit tool. Decarlo, take the hose in behind him and the rest of you follow them.” Langston, the driver, would stay with the truck. Even the paramedics went inside as they were fully certified firefighters.
After he yanked the pry tool off the rig as the others were unfurling the hose, Riley followed Ramirez to the building.
The doors were double-wide and padlocked. “Shit,” Riley said. Someone from behind nudged his arm with cutters. Firefighters never left the truck without a tool. Riley snapped the thick chains, and over the mic pinned to his collar heard the lieutenant speak into his radio. “Door’s chained. We snapped it but the Rescue Squad should know that nobody got in this way.”
Riley put the tip of the rabbit tool — an hydraulic hand held manually operated tool — between the door and frame. He pumped the pneumatic unit so the two interlocking jaws exerted enough force to pop the doors. They opened inward.
Inside the building, they were met with a gray curtain of smoke that they couldn’t see through. The Rescue Squad had a thermal imager for use when the flames were out, but Riley’s group would work blind.
His crew slapped water in the front rooms, which was the point of origin. The noise was loud and hissing; he could hear it even through his facemask and helmet. In ten minutes, the fire was doused. Next, two of his guys would take axes to the walls to make sure no flames were hiding.
The lieutenant’s voice came over the mic again. “Gallagher, go down the left hallways with Duncan. Me and Decarlo will take the ones on the right.”
Again over the mic, Riley heard from Evans from the rear. “We’re in the back of the store and searching these rooms. We already found two guys and dragged them out so there are folks inside.”
“Make sure you’re thorough.” Malvaso’s voice came next. “We don’t want to lose anybody because of neglect.”
Thinking, Nobody will be left behind on my watch, Riley turned left with Duncan behind him. Because of the heat, they dropped to their knees and ran their hands along the wall to find their way. Their progress was slow, but this was how fires were fought.
# #
Jane Phillips was glad she kept in shape. Even so, her arms ached with the weight of the four people she’d dragged out of the building. She was heading back inside when Evans stopped her. “You okay to go in again, Phillips?” he asked. “You been in and out four times.”
“Since I heard you ask Bilky that, I won’t consider it a sexist question, Cap.” Her tone was teasing. She knew Evans was fair and generous to women and had gotten some onto rescue squads.
“Then ladies first, Phillips.” The remark was also made in good humor. God, she loved her job.
Jane led the way through the door, and Evans nudged up to her side. The smoke was lessening, but she still couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Evans held up the imager. They walked quickly through the sectioned off areas they’d already checked. The rank smell of decay and the stink of smoke seeped in through her SCBA mask.
“There’s an area at the end we didn’t cover, Phillips. Stay close.”
They’d taken only three steps when a loud cracking noise rent the air and the floor opened up. They fell through fast. Before Jane could internalize what had happened, she landed on top of the captain. He hit his head and his facemask flew off. Loss of air made him cough.
When she got her bearings, Jane thrust off the burnt wood that covered them and climbed off Evans. He wasn’t moving. She began to feel around, running her gloved hands along the floor. Finally, she touched metal. “Thank God.”
“What’s going on there, Evans?” The voice came over the mic.
Jane ignored Malvaso’s question and grabbed the helmet, felt the cap’s face and managed to secure the hat and breathing device on him. Then she said into her mic, “Chief, me and Evans fell through the floor. Northwest quadrant of the building. Evans’s out cold. He lost his SCBA but I retrieved it. Oh, wait, he’s moving, coming to.”
“We’re sending ropes and harnesses. Hang on. We’ll be there in minutes.”
It was quieter down here and she heard a moan come from the corner. Jesus, victims in the basement were all they needed. She rummaged around again until she found the imager and scanned the direction the
noise had come from. A body was moving in the corner. Quickly checking the rest of the area through the viewer and seeing no heat emitting shapes, she started to move toward the corner. Evans rasped out, “What is it, Phillips?”
“Victim about ten feet away. I’m going. Stay still, Cap.”
The fact that he did made her realize this rescue was all on her. Slowly, feeling her way, she crawled to the body. Her hands reached the victim and she discovered he was a big lug of a man. “Whaaaa happened?”
“There’s been a fire. I’m a firefighter.” She took off her mask and placed the mouthpiece over his lips. “Here take some air.”
The man sucked it in as she coughed like a son of a bitch. He handed her the mask back. “Make sure you take yours, Firefighter.” The gravelly voice sounded surprisingly confident in his order.
They exchanged two more mouthfuls of air then she heard from above, “Hey, Phillips, we’re here.”
She yelled out, “Cap’s right below the hole. I’m in the corner with a victim.”
“Stay there.” Apparently, Malvaso had decided to join the rescue with his fellow firefighters. “I’m coming down with two others, and there’s a group here to pull us up top.”
The smoke started to clear. She saw the outline of Malvaso shimmying down the rope. Then someone after him. Malvaso went to Evans and two people headed to her. She hoped one of them wasn’t Riley. That’d freak them both out.
It wasn’t. Duncan and McCabe, both paramedics, reached her. “I have the BVM,” Duncan said. “Keep your mouthpiece on and I’ll fit the guy with the oxygen mask.”
The victim, who coughed mercilessly, muttered something about saving others first, but they ignored him.
In minutes, the paramedics put a neck brace on the guy and moved him onto a backboard. Before he left, McCabe tugged her up by the arm. “Should I check you out?”
“I’m fine, Jack. I fell on top of the cap.”
As two the two paramedics left, Jane glanced around; she was the only one left down here. Quickly, she walked to the hole, where mega lights were shining through. Somebody threw her a harness, she stuck her feet in it, belted the waist and let herself be pulled up. She heard somebody joke, “Jesus, Phillips, you gotta lose some weight.”