They couldn’t save everybody.
She knew the rules and she was prepared to break them, and damn the consequences.
“Please go,” she whispered.
* * *
Not fucking happening.
Gavin gave a status report to everybody on the receiving end of the radio as he turned his back on Cait to assess the situation.
She could tell him to leave. The commissioner himself could get on the radio and order him to leave. Hell, they could get his mother outside with a megaphone, yelling for him to get his sorry butt out of there or she’d drag him out by his damn earlobe. He wasn’t leaving without Cait and she wasn’t leaving without her patient.
So all he had to do was keep them safe until the child could be moved or more help came.
Suddenly, the entire world seemed to shift and he threw himself at Cait and the boy. He was able to block most of the falling debris from hitting Hunter, but they were dropping and sliding. The noise was deafening, and then it went dark as the wall with the big window caved.
Then it was still and all he could hear was his breath and Cait’s ragged cough. He took out his light and turned it on. The room they’d been in was now just a small box with no openings, because they’d all been crushed or were blocked by debris.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I think so.” Cait nodded and then wiped at her eyes before turning all of her attention back to her patient.
They were yelling his name on the radio, so he told them they were okay, but they weren’t going to get out on their own.
The smoke was a problem. It wasn’t getting worse, but with no place to vent, it wasn’t getting any better, either. And the Sheetrock dust didn’t help. When Cait coughed deeply and then lowered her face to check the boy’s breathing, he knew it was a big problem.
He knew the rules. He was no help to anybody if he succumbed to the smoke, so the mask stayed on his face.
It took him a few seconds to get out of his gear, and then he held the mask out to her. “Get a seal and take a few breaths. Then try to seal it on him for a few minutes as best you can.”
She shook her head. “You can’t get us out of here if you can’t breathe.”
“When I need to, I’ll put it back on for a minute, then you can. Then back to him.” She still didn’t move. “I won’t push it. I promise.”
She only took a few breaths before putting it over Hunter’s face. Gavin knew it wouldn’t be a good seal, but it was better than nothing. He listened to the chatter on the radio and could hear stuff happening outside. Occasionally they’d ask him questions he’d answer.
He and Cait each took a turn with the mask, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “I know his leg’s bad, but it won’t be long.”
“It’s not just the leg. I’m pretty sure there’s internal bleeding.” She paused and he watched her throat move as she swallowed hard. It was the only crack in her composure. “He doesn’t have a lot of time.”
Gavin heard what she didn’t say. Hunter was going to die before they were able to safely extricate them according to protocol and he felt a rush of panicked helplessness.
But he pushed it down and gave her a sharp nod to acknowledge that he understood. Then he looked around the small space, taking stock of the situation before making his decision. They couldn’t wait.
He dug his fingers into the cracked Sheetrock and pulled until a chunk broke off. He kept breaking off pieces until the insulation was exposed. After pulling that out and tossing it aside, he looked at the back side of the plywood sheathing.
It was either going to work, or he was going to find out the plywood was holding this corner of the room up. He looked over his shoulder at Cait and, after a few seconds, she nodded.
He didn’t have a lot of room, but he got down on his side and kicked hard at the center of the plywood. It didn’t give a lot, but he kicked again. There were voices outside and he heard the scratching sound of the melted vinyl siding being pulled free.
“We can’t use the saw,” Rick told him over the radio. “If we cut the studs, it’ll collapse.”
“We just need to cut out a big enough area to pass a board through. We’ll strap him the best we can and send him out sideways.”
“That’s not—”
“It’s his only chance,” Cait broke in.
“Get the reciprocating saw and make a vertical cut through where I knock,” Gavin said. “I’ll tell you where you can cut.”
It felt like a slow process, but he knew it was really only a couple of minutes before they had a rough cutout big enough to pass a board through the studs. And big enough to hand a little boy out.
“I’ll get his torso,” Cait said. “You get him behind the knees. Slow and smooth to the board.”
“His leg is—”
“He’s unconscious and the only thing we can do for that leg is get him to a surgeon.”
They strapped him to the board from his head to his ankles, and then slowly and carefully tipped him sideways and passed the board through the hole. As soon as the guys outside had his head, Cait let go and stripped off all her gear, including her boots.
She put her arms and head between the studs and told the guys to pull. Gavin had no choice but to lift her by the legs and support her until they had her.
He didn’t think he’d fit, so he tossed their gear through the hole and then had to wait while they figured out how to extract him.
“We can probably cut one of the studs out without jeopardizing the wall,” Rick said finally.
“Probably?”
The LT grinned at him through the hole. “Almost definitely.”
By the time they got him out, Cait was gone and he assumed she’d climbed in the ambulance with her patient. She would stay with them, relating what info she had and assisting the paramedic, until they handed the boy over to the doctors.
It was her partner, Tony, who snapped his attention away from her. “Let’s check you out.”
“I’m fine.”
“You took your mask off.”
Gavin didn’t know if it was a guess or somebody—maybe Cait during the brief time they’d been extracting him from the house—had told him, but it didn’t matter. He was okay. “I just need some water. Did you get all her gear?”
After Tony nodded, Gavin walked to where the volunteers had the canteen truck set up and turned down their offer of coffee or hot chocolate for a bottle of water. He was thirsty and having to call Tony back because he’d scorched his throat guzzling coffee wasn’t his idea of a good time.
When they were cleared to return to quarters, it was a quiet ride. They were all a little subdued after a situation went sideways, when the should-haves and what-ifs ran through their minds. And they’d wonder about Hunter and his mom until they saw an update on the evening news or heard something through the grapevine.
He took a quick shower and sat on the couch, propping his stockinged feet on the table. His intention had been to turn the TV on and channel surf until he found something mindless to stare at.
Instead, he stared at the framed photo next to the television. He knew it was just the luck of the draw, so to speak, that Cait’s ambulance had been the closest to respond for fire standby. That she was the one in that room with him.
There had been no panic in her eyes. Tension. A little fear. But mostly what he’d seen on her face was determination. She knew the risks and she wasn’t leaving the boy. He knew what that felt like, and he respected the hell out of anybody who could remain calm and focused in that kind of situation.
He shifted his gaze to Rick Gullotti, who was sitting in the recliner, watching him stare at the picture. “Hey, LT.”
“How you doing?”
“I’m good. Anybody hear anything about the little boy yet? Or his mom?”
“Not yet. The ne
ws might have something. Don’t take your mask off again.”
Gavin nodded, because that was the right thing to do. He knew why he’d done it and Rick knew why he’d done it, but they both acknowledged it wasn’t what he was supposed to do.
“Food’s almost ready, so let’s eat.” He pushed himself out of the chair. “I’m surprised we haven’t had to drag you out of the pantry yet, like a freakin’ raccoon.”
“I had a Snickers in the truck.”
They got through the meal and the evening news—from which they learned both victims of the earlier incident were expected to make full recoveries—before the tones went off for a motor vehicle accident with entrapment. A couple hours later, they responded to a carbon monoxide alarm before hitting the bunks.
When an alarm went off and it was his phone rather than dispatch, Gavin was surprised they’d made it through the night without interruption. He’d slept hard and rather than go home and crawl into bed for a power nap, he’d probably find some breakfast and then get some errands done.
Grant popped his head into the bunk room as he was stowing his tablet and charger into his bag. “Hey, Gavin, there’s somebody here to see you.”
“Unless it’s a supermodel with a sandwich in one hand and a beer in the other, I’m not here.”
“Beer?”
Shit, it was morning. “Breakfast sandwich and a coffee, then.”
“It’s that EMT with the great ass who doesn’t like you.” Grant chuckled. “She said not to hurry. She’ll wait while you finish up.”
Gavin sighed and zipped the duffel bag shut. Screw the beer and screw the coffee. A nice shot of whiskey wouldn’t hurt.
Chapter Five
Cait was pretty sure she’d hit her head at the scene yesterday and hadn’t noticed it because that was the only way to explain the fact she was standing inside Gavin Boudreau’s firehouse at a ridiculously early hour on her day off, waiting for him to appear so she could invite him out for breakfast.
She’d had a rough night. Her mother saw her on the evening news and totally fell apart. There was sobbing and anger and demands Cait quit her job, because who was going to take care of her if something happened to Cait? Then, when Cait had refused to give in, there had been sulking. Cait hated the silent treatment even more than the sobbing or yelling.
And she hated a night spent tossing and turning, trying not to imagine the emotional devastation losing her would have piled on her mother and brother. Carter had seemed okay, muttering a good job, sis and giving her a high-five when their mom wasn’t looking. But even if seeing the news hadn’t shaken him, their mother’s overreaction had to affect him.
She’d also thought a lot more about a certain firefighter than she wanted to. She’d accused Gavin of not taking his job seriously and, even before yesterday, she’d forced herself to admit it wasn’t fair.
She owed him an apology, and what better way to apologize than over a cup of coffee and some bacon?
It was only a few minutes before he appeared, wearing jeans and a zip-up hoodie. He didn’t look nearly as tired as she felt, and she felt her body doing its omg, this man is so hot thing, which she hoped didn’t show. “Hi.”
“Hey, how you doin’ today?”
“Good. You?”
He shrugged one shoulder, making the duffel bag slung over it bump against his hip. “Just another day in paradise. What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you about something, and I thought...” She paused, and then made herself say it. “Maybe over breakfast.”
He looked confused for a few seconds, not that she could blame him. Nothing in their past interactions indicated she’d ever have an interest in sharing a meal with him, and the incident in the hallway after delivering the baby had probably made him believe she didn’t like him at all.
“Or just a coffee or something,” she said when he didn’t respond right away. “It won’t take long.”
“I could go for breakfast right about now. I was going to go around the corner if you want to join me?”
“Sure.”
They walked in silence to the tiny restaurant only locals would know was even there and took a table in the back. There were a few other diners, but nobody that she recognized as somebody she wouldn’t want eavesdropping. Most of the firefighters probably went straight home to crash in their beds for a while, she thought. Or maybe Gavin hadn’t given them the heads-up on the good food to be had. Cait had grabbed coffee and pastries there a few times, but she’d never sat and had a meal.
“This is a bit of a surprise,” he said once they had their coffees and had ordered the veggie-filled omelets the place was famous for, minus onions for Gavin and both with bacon and wheat toast on the side.
She couldn’t tell if he was pleasantly surprised or unpleasantly surprised. “Yeah. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
After tossing and turning all night.
“You okay? From yesterday, I mean?”
“I’m good, really. But it’s the kind of situation that gets you thinking about things, and I was thinking about the things I said after delivering that baby the other day.”
He leaned back in his chair and grinned. “You mean the part where you implied I don’t take my job seriously?”
Yeah, that part. And why did he have to have such a great smile? “See, you’re doing it right now.”
“Doing what?”
“That smile that probably makes women’s pants fall off.”
The eyebrow went up before he pushed his chair back a few inches. Then he bent over, as if he was picking up a dropped fork. A second later, he sat up and pulled his chair back in.
“What are you doing?”
“I was just checking to see if your pants fell off.” The lift of his left shoulder matched the curve of his mouth. “I guess I’ll have to try harder.”
Oh, god, please don’t. Cait had never been so thankful she wasn’t prone to blushing because if she was, her face would be as red as the ketchup bottle. She’d come here to apologize for being a bitch to him and, before she’d even addressed her hostility toward him—or at least the part she was willing to admit to—he was implying he’d like to get her out of her pants.
It was obviously just a habit, she told herself. Gavin was probably just a natural charmer who never had to try. And if he did have to try harder...well, what man could resist a challenge?
She tried to focus on that assumption about his character so she wouldn’t be able to focus on the fact he could probably make her pants fall off without too much of an effort at all. Of all the people she came across on a daily basis, she would have bet he was the last person who had a shot, but there was something about his carefree confidence that might grate on her nerves when they were at a scene, but was sexy as hell when he was sitting across a table from her. And between the added stress and reduced privacy that moving back home had brought, she was barely managing to have a social life, never mind a sex life.
She needed to get this conversation back on track, though, before he tried to up his game. “I want to apologize to you.”
“There’s no need for an apology. Believe it or not, the pants don’t always fall down. It happens. Not often, but it happens.” The expression on his face was almost as cocky as the words, and she was about to tell him to forget it—he was exactly who she’d originally thought he was—when he dimmed the high-wattage grin to a sheepish smile and shook his head. “I’m joking. And yes, I do that too much.”
“Why?”
“Why not? I like to laugh. This is the only life I know for sure I’m getting, so I’m going to have fun while I’m living it.” He looked at her, his expression more sincerely thoughtful than she’d thought him capable of. “Maybe sometimes I take it too far. I don’t even know how many times in my life my mom’s told me I don’t know when to quit. But that doesn’t mea
n I’m not doing my job.”
Cait forced herself not to look away from his direct gaze. “That’s what I wanted to apologize for. What I said the other day, when we delivered that baby, was out of line. You obviously take your job seriously and rumor has it you’re good at it. I’m sorry I said that.”
She half-expected him to make some kind of smart-ass remark or gloat in some way, but the smile he gave her was warm and genuine. “Thank you. I accept your apology. And I’m sorry, too. I might have pushed your buttons a little on purpose because you’re so easy to rile up.”
“I am not.”
“You’re getting riled right now.”
He wasn’t wrong, but he hopefully hadn’t guessed on how many levels he got her wound up. She was going to say something about being sensitive to him pushing her buttons, but she couldn’t figure out how to say it without the possibility of the conversation spinning into innuendo.
“So tell me something, Cait. Since we’re on the subject, why don’t you like me?”
“I don’t know you well enoughback seatlike you.”
“Okay.” He fiddled with his coffee mug, turning it in his hands. “I’ll put it another way. I’ve wondered why you react to me in a way that makes other people ask me what I did to piss you off.”
“They do not.” When he just stared at her, one eyebrow raised, she looked away first. “What did you say?”
“You mean what I tell them I did to piss you off? I breathed.”
Ouch. But that was why she’d invited him to breakfast in the first place—to apologize and talk through whatever their problem was. Whatever her problem was. “I don’t know what it is about you that rubs me the wrong way.”
So much for keeping the conversation innuendo-free, she thought, barely stopping herself from slapping her palm over her face.
“Pent-up sexual tension between us?”
She laughed, because she knew he was joking. Or she was fairly sure he was, at least. “You’re cocky.”
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