by Sara Arden
“Okay, boys. Let’s lay down some rules. We won’t be using the kegs. Firehouse Mom’s rules. We’re on the hoses. There will be bragging rights. Every family dinner, every Christmas, you are allowed to rub your brother’s face in it.” Bill grinned. “If you don’t want your face rubbed in your defeat, don’t be a loser.”
Yeah, that was their dad. He wasn’t the kind to tell them to stop riding down the stairs on a couch cushion. He was the kind to strap a helmet on them and tell them to try it standing up next time.
A collection of pained groans sounded from the rest of the firehouse. “Rough, man,” Noah added.
“Here’s to growing up Cole,” Royce said.
“It’ll be a clean competition, about your skill, your speed and your ability to do the job. Not your ability to trip your brother and knock him down the stairs.” Bill stared at each of them in turn to make sure he got the point across.
“Also growing up Cole,” Hayden said. “Fair play.”
“Live it, breathe it, love it,” Bill reiterated. “Is anyone else getting in on this action?”
“What do I get if I win?” Noah asked.
“Same. Bragging rights at Cole holidays and dinners,” Bill answered.
“I’ll take it. That means I’ll get an invite to Grammie’s for her fried chicken? I’d do pretty much anything for that.”
“Then suit up, boy!”
A short while later, Finnegan joined them in his turn out gear.
The midmorning sun was bright in their eyes and Hayden looked over at his competitors. Noah had joined up just to be ornery, but Royce’s eyes were bright. He loved the thrill of the chase. He loved hanging a brass ring for himself, but it wasn’t actually attaining the ring that his brother loved. It was whatever he had to do to climb up to grab it. If he won, it wouldn’t be about winning. It would be the running up those flights of stairs and pushing his body harder than he thought he could.
For Hayden, he didn’t care about winning.
Okay, he cared a little. If Royce won, he’d be insufferable for the rest of their lives.
Jensen James, their new probie, was tasked with delivering a hose to each of them to carry. Hayden watched him stumble, but keep double-timing it all in the hopes of impressing them and being made a true member of Lucky Seven.
Hayden remembered those days.
Some people might’ve thought he’d have had it easier being the fire chief’s son. Not a chance. His father had worked him doubly hard and his brother had hassled, harried and harangued him nonstop.
Not that he was complaining.
It made him better at his job.
Jensen wore a look of longing on his face. “Why don’t you suit up, James?” Hayden asked.
“I’m not ready for that.”
Royce studied him. “That’s kind of the point. If you’re running into a burning building, no one is really ready for that. What’s the worst that can happen on the tower? You lose? Expect to lose. It’s a good exercise.”
“I don’t think—”
“Either run it with the boys now, or run it by yourself later. Ten times,” Bill said.
“Yes, sir.”
“You and Finnegan will run after Royce and Hayden. You’re racing the clock, not the other guy. Got it?” Bill eyed everyone in turn.
“Yes, sir!” Came the collective reply.
Hayden hauled the hose up over his shoulder. “You ready to lose?”
Royce snorted. “It’s sweet how you think you’re going to win.”
“Ready?” Bill prompted. “Go!”
Hayden burst into a run, heading toward the entrance to the tower. His vision had narrowed. The stairs were all he could see, all he could think about. He was vaguely aware of his brother next to him, even as their bodies crashed into each other on the landings, but it was malicious. There was no intent. It was inertia propelling them both forward as their legs propelled them up stair after stair.
The hose was heavy, but it was a weight he was used to. It was a comfort to him instead of a hindrance. It motivated him to push harder, to move faster. His brain equated that hose with safety. With the tools he needed to save whoever was at the top of these stairs that needed him.
The sound of something splintering registered in the back of his head, but he kept moving, kept pushing. His legs burned, but he kept running until he reached the top.
He burst onto the roof of the tower and dropped the hose, breathing hard and savoring his victory.
Until he realized his brother was not behind him.
Panic clawed at him and he dashed back down to the stairs to see Royce lying on the inflatable, blood pooling behind his head.
He’d never moved down a set of stairs so fast in all of his life.
He watched the rest of the action unfold as if viewing it through water. Everyone seemed to move so slowly. Even himself. His father was the first one to get to Royce. Finnegan got the backboard, and the probie was the first to pull out his phone and call for paramedics to take him to the hospital.
Royce’s eyes opened slowly and he tried to sit up, but nearly the whole of Lucky Seven were on him, forcing him to lie back and wait.
It seemed like it had taken him forever to get to him and he braced himself for the disapproval, the judgment, and the disgust he’d expected to see in his father’s eyes.
But there was none.
Only concern. Only love.
It was as if as soon as his feet touched the ground, the world started again. The water receded and the sound came back, the colors, the sensation.
“Well, this sucks,” Royce croaked.
Hayden couldn’t speak, but Royce did it for him. “If you even try to say this is your fault, after I’m stitched up, I’ll kick your ass. It was my own stupid self that got me into this.”
“I should’ve—”
Because if it had been real, today’s drill, he’d have lost his brother.
“You did exactly what we trained you to do, Hayden.” Bill put his hand on his shoulder. “Your brother is going to be fine. And hey, you won.” Bill grinned.
“That’s not a win.” Hayden was grim.
“That’s right,” Royce managed. “A win by concession is no win. Rematch!”
The pool of blood around his head was getting bigger and Finnegan didn’t hesitate to take off his shirt and wrap it around the wound.
“I’m never going to live this down,” Royce groaned.
“No, you’re not. Maybe this can be your pose for that calendar,” Noah teased him. “Or I could carry you…”
“Get off me, Finnegan.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Noah finished tying the shirt and looked up at Bill. “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but head wounds often look more serious than they are because they’re bleeders.”
No matter what any of them said, they couldn’t erase the guilt that weighted so heavy on his shoulders.
He looked back up and saw exactly where his brother had fallen. The handrail had broken away from the stairs and he’d hit his head on something on the way down. Might even have been the mouth of the hose.
“Ambulance is on the way, they’re coming in quiet,” Jensen said.
“Thank God for small favors. If you guys ever do anything for me, it will be to never mention this again.” Royce winced. “This is a training exercise.”
Hayden couldn’t summon the normal banter that came so easily between them. He was frozen.
He realized that for all of his talk, that if something ever actually happened to Royce on a call, he wouldn’t be able to live with it.
The reality of what he was asking of Sophie hit home.
The reality of what he and Royce asked of their parents slammed into him next.
And those realizations were followed closely by what their parents asked of them.
This could be any of them.
“I’m going with you,” Hayden said.
His father eyed him. “This will be a worker’s comp issue
. Can you handle that for me?”
His father was still trusting him. Even after he’d failed Royce so spectacularly. “Yeah.” He exhaled heavily. “Sometimes I forget that while he’s my brother, he’s still your son. I’ll stay here and handle the firehouse while you go with him.” It killed him to say it, but he had to step up. He had to do the right thing.
“Finnegan has things firmly in hand. Don’t you, son?”
Noah nodded, his expression grave.
The ride to the hospital was uneventful, and all of Royce’s vitals were good. That didn’t ease any of the dread hanging over his head, though.
In the ER, it was Dr. Dani on duty.
“If you guys keep showing up like this, I’m going to think we’re dating,” Dani teased.
“A doctor? We should be so lucky.” Royce was his regular, teasing self.
She looked at his chart and examined him. “I’m going to order some tests, but I’ve got bad news.”
“We’re breaking up?” Royce supplied.
“No, we’re going to take it to the next level. Commitment.” She widened her eyes and made a face.
“I don’t think I’m going to like this.”
“Probably not, but lucky for you I only want to try it for a day or so. Just to make sure you’re okay. That was a pretty insane fall and you’re lucky there was an inflatable, but head wounds can be tricky things and I don’t like the dilation of the pupils.”
“Harsh.” Royce said. “So can I get off this backboard?”
“Nope. Not until after CT scan. Have to make doubly sure nothing’s broken. Even if you feel fine. Why did you even ask? You know the drill.” She patted his hand and turned to Bill. “Someone needs to go around front and handle registration?”
“I got it,” Hayden said.
“Hayden, wait.”
He turned back to his brother. “Remember what I said.”
“I couldn’t forget.” He left his brother in their care and went around to the registration desk to do the paperwork.
He’d forgotten he was still in his turnout gear and all eyes in the waiting room were on him. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and waited for the clerk to hand him the paperwork.
Hours passed in a haze until Royce had been poked, prodded and finally transferred to a room.
Hayden didn’t even think about leaving until Livie showed up looking pale, drawn and upset.
“Royce, I’ve got my phone if you need me.”
“Get out of here, man. I’m fine. Save this concern for tomorrow when I’m hungry for real food and I’m broke until payday.”
“You got it.”
“Is that all I have to do to get you to buy me food, because that was actually kind of fun. Sans the head wound.” Royce looked thoughtful for a moment. “Might even be worth the head wound.”
Livie slapped his arm. “Don’t you say that. It’s not funny.”
“Well, I’m in trouble. On second thought, don’t leave me alone with her. I thought she was here to administer tender mercies, but I was wrong.”
He saw this as an opportunity for them to have a real discussion. He realized the one thing he could do for Royce right now was to get the hell out of his way.
“No, you’re on your own. Far be it from me to get between a woman and the object of her frustration.” Hayden summoned a wink.
Livie grabbed his hand. “He’s going to give me a crap answer, but I know you’ll tell me the truth. Is he really okay?”
Hayden studied her for a long moment. The fear in her eyes, the way she grabbed his hand as if it were a life preserver and it was the only thing keeping her afloat.
He knew then that Livie loved Royce, and she was especially pissed about it because she didn’t want to.
He nodded. “Yeah, he’s going to be fine. Feel free to rake him over the coals.”
Hayden grinned.
“You’re a turd, Hayden. You could’ve told her I was terminal and she’d have been nice to me. Now, I’m a captive victim.”
“You like it,” Hayden tossed back as he walked out of the room.
When he realized his brother really was going to be okay, he’d had time to process his other revelations and he knew he needed to talk to Sophie. He needed her wisdom and her guidance. She was the one who always made everything okay and Hayden hadn’t realized he needed help with that. He thought that the time he spent saving people was what made everything okay, but it wasn’t.
Hayden needed to tell her that he finally understood. He needed to tell her he was going to fix what was wrong and ask her to have patience with him. Not to give up on him—on them.
He called her. “Hey, you busy?”
“No, what’s up?”
“Can I come by?”
“I thought you were on shift?”
“I was with Royce at Ember Lake General. I need to see you.”
She gasped. “Is he okay?”
“He will be, but I need you.” He took a gamble putting his feelings on deck.
“Come over.”
Of course she’d said to come over. She was always there. Always a candle in the dark… “Thanks, Soph.”
He walked back to the firehouse to get his truck. He wanted to be able to respond quickly if needed.
Pulling up to her little cottage, he realized, felt like coming home. All the tension in his shoulders eased and the rest of the pressures of the world fled. This was his haven.
She was his haven.
How did he even begin to ask her to give him more than she already had?
14
When Sophie opened the door and saw him standing there, still in his gear, she knew something had changed.
“What’s happened?”
“Royce had an accident during a training exercise.”
“You’re here, so he’s okay, right?”
“Yeah. Doc Meyer wanted to keep him overnight just to be sure.”
The look on his face made her a little sick because he looked so haunted, but hopeful. She just knew that he’d come to her for the absolution he seemed to always be looking for.
Maybe it was finally time to give it to him.
“It was my fault, Soph.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” She took his hand and drew him inside.
“I like that you don’t just reassure me it’s not my fault without listening to what I have to say. I feel like I can always count on you to be honest with me. If it were my fault, you’d tell me.”
Her stomach twisted again and the bile on her tongue was bitter. All she could do was nod and lead him to the couch—their couch. It had become a haven of sorts. A place where they locked out the world and only the two of them existed. Whether he was holding her, or they were watching movies, or playing the board games he so enjoyed, even though it was just a couch, there was something magical about it.
Here was where she’d tell him the truth.
Here was where the dream had to end—the place where it had started.
“You remember the tower challenge he’d proposed?”
She nodded.
“Yeah, we did that today and about halfway up, the handrail failed and he fell. We keep the inflatable at the bottom in case of accidents, but he hit his head going down. There was blood everywhere.”
Sophie inhaled deeply. “Your brother is conscious?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say it was your fault?”
“Well, no. He told me he’d kick my ass, actually, if I tried to say it was. But I should’ve known where he was, Soph. I should’ve been aware. But I was so focused on winning that I made it to the top. What if he’d died?”
“What if can be a helpful question to ask in the right circumstances. Except in cases of regret. You can’t change what happened. Only operate within the parameters of what did happen. Royce doesn’t blame you, so why insist on blaming yourself?”
“I’m his little brother. Royce has always looked out for me. Once, when I wa
s little, I broke Grammie’s favorite piece of china. Royce took the blame.”
“Hayden—” she squeezed his hand “—Your brother isn’t a piece of china. If you broke him, and he could communicate, he’d let you know.”
“I just don’t know, Sophie.” He leaned into her and buried his face in her hair and breathed deeply.
“I do. Your brother loves you, but he loves you enough to let you make and own your own mistakes. The thing I think you need to examine is why you’re so convinced when anything bad happens, it’s always your fault.”
“Because it is. Look at what happened to you.”
She stiffened.
“I’m sorry, I know we said we weren’t going to bring up our baggage, and I thought we could leave it at the door, but we can’t.”
Sophie breathed in the scent of him, storing up the memory of the way his body felt against hers, the heat of him while he held her. The way she felt in his arms, like happily ever after was real. She didn’t want to forget.
“You’re right, Hayden. We can’t.” Sophie pulled away from him.
It would be easy to hide in his chest. It would be easy to shield herself from the betrayal she knew she’d see in his eyes. The judgment.
She didn’t think he’d hate her, but he wouldn’t trust her. Not ever again.
“Don’t do it, Sophie. Please,” he said.
“Do you know what I’m going to say?” She half-hoped that he did.
“You’re going to tell me we’re done, but I can fix this. I see what the problem is. I can work on it. Don’t give up on us.”
Oh God! There was an earthquake in her chest—no, it was only her heart breaking for him. For her.
For everything they were going to lose.
“You don’t need to fix anything, Hayden.” She touched his cheek. “All the pieces will click together as they should when I tell you my secret.”
Her voice cracked. She’d hoped to confess to him in a quiet, sure tone. She’d hoped that finally being honest would be its own merit. She’d hoped that she’d accepted the consequences.
She hadn’t.
Sophie still had a strange, vain hope that he’d hear what she had to say and it wouldn’t matter to him.