by Vivian Wood
Lily was grateful that Cade didn’t arrive before she could busy herself in the kitchen. She heard him enter and the slaps on the back as the men greeted one another.
Even the sound of his voice, deep and steady, turned her on. As she started to plate their lunch, she caught herself taking extra care with the presentation. Lasagna was messy by design, so it took a little additional care. But it was worth it.
Pretty food tastes better, she remembered Jean-Michel always told her.
“Smells good.” She glanced up as Cade poked his head into the kitchen.
Lily offered up a smile, but quickly turned away.
“Hey, Lil? Let’s eat outside. A warm March day in Oregon is unprecedented,” Aiden called.
“Sounds good,” she yelled back.
“Here, let me help you,” Cade said.
Before she could argue, he took two of the plates and headed toward the back patio with them.
Lily wrapped herself in a thick shawl as they gathered at the wrought iron table on the apartment’s small balcony.
“Let’s have a toast,” Elijah said, just as Lily picked up her fork.
She set it back down, acutely aware of how loud it sounded against the iron.
“To?” Aiden asked as he picked up his glass of red.
“To having us all in one place again.”
“Hear, hear,” Cade said as they clinked glasses.
Lily took a swallow, and couldn’t stop herself as she sneaked a glance at Cade. His eyes immediately caught and held hers.
Has he been staring at me? She felt her face go red and tilted her head down to focus on the food.
“So, Cade, I heard you’re suspended until the shrink clears you,” Elijah said.
Always the blunt one, she thought. But she perked up at the news. Suspended? For what?
“Medical leave. It’s different than suspension,” Cade said.
“I dunno, dude. Remember when you got suspended in eleventh grade? For what, getting caught fingering that cheerleader in the handicapped stall?”
“Damn, Elijah,” Aiden said. “Nice dinner conversation.”
“It’s lunch. It’s more informal,” Elijah said. “Besides, that’s what happened.”
“Yeah, well. That’s not what happened this time,” Cade said.
“Well, medical leave or suspension or whatever, I think it’s bullshit,” Elijah said.
Cade frowned and shook his head.
“I’m just trying to do my job,” he said. “I don’t know why that ass Eldon Crane won’t let me.”
“Crane’s alright,” Elijah said as he dug into the food.
Nice to see the lamb doesn’t bother him, Lily thought wryly.
“But yeah, I don’t know why he’s standing in your way either. I mean, why hire you and bring you here if he’s not even going to let you do anything? Dude, like he won’t even let you be a desk jockey, right?”
“Nope,” Cade said as he took a generous bite of the casserole. “Man, that’s good. Lily, did you make this all by yourself?”
“What, you really think we helped?” Aiden asked with a laugh.
Before Lily could reply, they heard a woman scream in the front yard.
“What the hell—” Elijah started, but all four of them had already pushed their chairs back and raced toward the front door.
Lily smelled the fire before she saw it. One block away, a small apartment building was engulfed in flames. They ran toward it while people emerged from the front door crouching. Some climbed out of windows from the first floor.
“Oh my God,” she said. “What do we do? What do we—”
She sensed a shift in Elijah and Aiden already.
He-Man mode, she thought. Cade put a hand on her forearm and brought her to a halt. He opened his mouth, concern in his eyes.
“I’ll be okay,” she said. “I’ll—I’ll stay here. Go. Do your thing,” she urged.
Cade whipped off his t-shirt to reveal a ribbed tank underneath that hugged every inch of his muscles. He tossed the shirt to her, still warm from his skin.
It took everything she had not to hold it to her nose and breathe him in. Lily settled for watching his perfect body as he quickly caught up to Elijah and Aiden.
I’ll remember that image forever, she thought.
Cade in silhouette, his big frame as he moved purposefully toward the burning two-story building. Goddamn, but that is hot.
Lily shivered and focused on worrying for all four of them. Cade stopped for a second, the briefest hesitation before he jaunted up the cement steps and into the building.
“Are you okay?” she asked a middle-aged man who coughed violently beside her. “Can I get you water?”
The man looked at her, teary-eyed, and nodded.
She ushered the man toward a garden hose as sirens wailed in the distance.
At least Elijah, Aiden, and Cade won’t be without backup for long.
As she turned on the hose and held it to the man’s lips, she saw Elijah and Aiden emerge from the building. Elijah somehow cradled two large dogs, one under each arm. Aiden held out an enormous cat as it yowled and scratched at him.
Lily breathed out a sigh of relief.
At least all the people got out okay.
Cade appeared on their tail, cradling what appeared to be a hurt Rottweiler. She watched from two houses away as the three of them repeatedly went into the building to check for pets.
A woman screamed desperately for, “My Sugarbear! My Sugarbear!” The distress in her voice made Lily heavy with heartache.
As she turned off the faucet and started to head toward the sea of bystanders, she saw Cade emerge from the building with a massive cage. A parrot squawked in fear.
“Sugarbear!” the woman shrieked and ran toward the bird.
That’s Sugarbear? she thought to herself as the fire trucks arrived. A stream of men rushed by, all suited up and carrying a fire hose.
Elijah, Aiden and Cade stepped out of the way and started administering first aid. She couldn’t see any major injuries, but there were some tenants bruised and bleeding from falls.
Lily overheard one of the firefighters say “grease fire,” and “hot and fast,” but it seemed like the fire was also well contained. Within thirty minutes, she couldn’t see any flames, but it was clear the smoke and water damage were significant.
The last victim was loaded into an ambulance, although the old woman swore she was “completely fine and didn’t want no ambulance bill.”
The guys walked toward her, Elijah rolling his eyes at the woman’s protests.
“You see those fire-putting-out skills, Lil?” he asked.
“Is that the technical term for it?” she asked with a laugh as she wrapped her arms around her brothers. On impulse, after she released her brothers, she embraced Cade, too.
He let her, and she felt his hand brush against her hair.
It feels good, she realized. Letting him touch her like that. Still, it felt like it lasted a little too long, and her brothers’ eyes started to bore into her.
Lily pulled back and wrinkled her nose.
“You all smell like a thousand campfires,” she said.
Cade laughed while Elijah and Aiden started to walk back to the apartment. Lily paused.
Should I say something more to him? she wondered. Try to explain about the other day?
Cade looked at her curiously, gave a small headshake, and started to follow the guys.
Lily didn’t know what to do. She wanted him to talk to her. Hell, she wanted him to kiss her again.
But maybe it’s not meant to be.
6
Cade
Cade was aware that he shook his knee, his worst nervous tell, but he couldn’t help it. Just being in Dr. Hersh’s office got to him, even when he wasn’t being questioned.
Interrogated is more like it, he thought.
It was always strange to step into the office. It was sleek, modern, and nearly sterile. A sharp contr
ast to the waiting room with its two lumpy couches and handknitted pillow covers with flowery inspirational sayings stitched across them.
Clearly, two very different people had decorated each space. Cade guessed the office was more Dr. Hersh’s style, and that made total sense.
Sterile and unwelcoming, just like him.
“Are you just going to stare at me for the whole hour?” Cade finally barked.
“I could, though it’s not my preference,” Dr. Hersh said.
Yeah. I could too, if my only job was to siphon money off the Oregon state government.
Cade stared at his boots, a little singed from the fire at the apartment building.
It hadn’t been easy to walk into that burning building. Knowing that his almost-brothers were inside, he almost couldn’t do it.
What if I lost them, too?
Every step he’d taken had felt like his shoes had been lined with lead. Now, it was almost worse that the incident made him so aware of how fucked up his instincts were.
Well, that’s not quite right, he corrected himself.
His instincts had actually returned to normal. One of the most important things he’d been taught as a recruit was how to turn off natural human instincts. Survival instincts. It wasn’t normal to run toward a fire, but that’s what firefighters did.
And I’d been damn good at it too, he recalled. Even battling the worst flames, he’d somehow managed to switch off both his survival and fear instincts. Yeah, and gotten three men killed in the process.
Dr. Hersh shifted slightly in the hard, contemporary seat that looked like it belonged in a spaceship.
“If you don’t want to talk about the incident with the apartment building, that’s fine for today,” Dr. Hersh said. “But it would help both of us if we talked about something.”
“You decorate this office?” Cade asked.
He didn’t want to engage with the doctor, but he was curious and needed affirmation.
“Me? No,” Dr. Hersh said with a laugh. “My daughter-in-law, she’s an interior designer. She did all this.”
“And the waiting room?”
“I don’t know, that’s how it was when we moved into this location. It’s technically a shared space, so we weren’t allowed to touch it.”
So you should know how it feels to be stuck in a place where you can’t be yourself, he thought. Cade went silent again, but any time he wasn’t actively distracting himself, all he could think about was that apartment fire. At the doorstep, everything in him had screamed to run away.
“What are you thinking now?” Dr. Hersh asked.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, automatically.
Every firefighter out there probably has stories like mine, he thought. It’s just nobody talks about them. So why am I stuck in this office while everyone else is out working?
“Nothing,” Dr. Hersh repeated. “I doubt it’s about interior design. Look, Cade, I know you don’t want to be here—”
“It’s that obvious, huh?”
Dr. Hersh ignored the remark. “But you have to be here. I could tell you the reasons why you’re here, and I have. However, I’m curious why you think you’re here.”
Cade opened his mouth as a smart retort was already forming.
“And I don’t want to hear any of that, ‘because the captain is making me’ type of excuses.”
Cade snapped his mouth shut and glared at Dr. Hersh. The doctor remained straight-faced.
Damn, it really does look like he could just sit there forever.
“I don’t know,” Cade finally said.
“You don’t know what?”
“I don’t know why I’m here.”
The doctor continued to stare at him. Does he ever blink?
“I mean, I guess I’m here because … you know, I lost three of my crew in a fire. And I guess that fucked with my head, or something.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you there? You didn’t just lose friends, you were trying to get to them?”
“Well, yeah.”
“You weren’t the only one in the fire, though. There were other firefighters, right?”
“Yeah, they’re not going to send out four guys in the crew to take on Lodgepole Complex.”
“I didn’t realize that’s where you were,” Dr. Hersh said as he pushed up his glasses.
“It was only supposed to be a small blaze. At first. I mean, at least when it started … a two-alarm.”
“Two-alarm?”
“Multiple units from different companies,” Cade said with a sigh.
“Would you mind telling me more?”
“Oh, why the hell not. Clearly, you’re not going to give up.”
“I’ve been told I’m persistent.”
Cade crossed his arms over his chest and slouched down into the seat. “You ever been to Square Butte in the autumn?”
“No.”
“It’s cold as hell. Colder than Oregon in the spring. It wasn’t really our busy season and, well, after those two hundred and seventy thousand acres burned in the summer everyone pretty much forgot about this one.”
“Except for you.”
Cade swallowed.
“We don’t … we still don’t know why it grew out of hand so fast,” he said. “I mean, the four of us had been on the crew together for almost three years. We’d been in worse situations than that before. Or at least that’s what we thought. But when the chopper approached that fire—it was unprecedented. Like rappelling straight into hell.”
“So nobody who was on the scene was prepared for how fast it would spread.”
Cade shook his head.
“We suspected maybe a campfire had gotten out of hand at first. Or someone’s cigarette. I, uh, I left before we got back the official report of the cause, and I never bothered to look it up.”
Didn’t want to, you mean. He swallowed, willing himself to continue.
“But all the talk afterward, it seems however the fire started, it made its way to an accelerant.”
Dr. Hersh scratched some notes in his pad, but didn’t say anything.
“Anyway, the three of them, they were in a gulch. We got separated, but at first I wasn’t worried.”
“And this was standard procedure?” Dr. Hersh asked. “To get separated.”
“Yes,” Cade said. He bristled at even the hint that his crew was responsible for their deaths.
“I’m just asking,” Dr. Hersh said. “I’m still learning about all these things.”
“Well, no,” Cade admitted.
“It wasn’t standard?”
Cade shook his head.
“How so?”
There wasn’t any judgment in the doctor’s voice, so Cade pushed on.
“It was standard for two of them,” he said slowly. “But, and I’m just guessing here, but I think maybe the third, Thom Barron, he might have heard one of them on the walkie-talkie? Or for some reason thought they needed help and broke protocol.”
“And where was Mr. Barron supposed to be?”
“With me,” Cade said quietly.
“And what did you do? When he went toward the other two?”
“I, uh … nothing.”
“Nothing?” The doctor raised his brow. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I didn’t do anything because I didn’t realize right away that he’d left.”
“I see. And do you have any guess on how long he was away from you?”
“I don’t …” Cade closed his eyes and tried to remember.
That was the one part of the day that was always black. He remembered the heat, the brightness. It was always almost impossible to hear his crew anyway with such a contained fire.
But you should have checked, he thought. How long did you go without seeing him? Thirty seconds? A minute? Three minutes, five?
Any of those timeframes could have happened. He just didn’t know.
“It was all so fast,” he said weakly.
“Th
at’s common, for time to get wonky in high-stress situations. Even for professionals who regularly work in traumatic environments,” Dr. Hersh said. “But what you need to remember is you’re not the one who broke protocol.”
“I should have made sure he was there,” Cade said.
“And he should have stayed with you if he was able,” Dr. Hersh said. “I’m not saying what he did was morally or ethically wrong, especially if he broke protocol to help the other men on your crew. But what you did wasn’t morally, ethically, or technically wrong.”
“You don’t understand,” Cade said.
“I understand more than you think. Maybe not your specific circumstances, but we all have histories.”
We all have histories.
“Are you able to tell me what happened next, from what you remember?”
“I … it’s all so blurry. I don’t know. I realized he was gone, but for how long I don’t know. And by the time I figured out where he was …”
“Yes?”
“There was just so much screaming.”
“From?”
“Them,” Cade said. He squeezed his eyes shut. The voices, all of them, echoed through his head. “God, I can still hear it. You know how when you hear a person scream, it’s usually in a movie and they’re acting. Or if it’s in person, they’re usually still acting—like on a carnival ride or something. But you don’t really ever hear a person scream for their life. Not really. Until they really are.”
Dr. Hersh nodded and jotted notes on his pad. “And you knew, without a doubt, in that moment, that all three of them were in that gulch?”
Cade nodded.
“You just know,” he said. “You work with someone, live with them a lot of the time, you just know.” He looked up and met Dr. Hersh’s eyes. “You know when someone you care about is screaming for their life.”
“Tell me more.”
“They were … they were maybe forty feet away? I’d made it to high ground, but my ankle was fucked up. Got pinned down by some branches, fractured it instantly. At first I couldn’t see them. It was just the sounds … but everything was falling apart. I was trying to yell down at them. Tell them it was okay. They couldn’t hear me on the walkies. But then something gave way, the smoke cleared for a minute, and I could see them.”