Rescued by the Firefighter

by Catherine Lanigan

  “I’m sure Miss Beatrice will worry if she doesn’t know you’re out here.”

  Chris walked up to stand by Eli. He put his hand on Eli’s shoulder. “We didn’t do anything wrong. Besides. It’s not breakfast time yet.”

  “I see,” Rand said, watching Chris’s protective instincts surface once again.

  “What are you doing?” Eli asked a bit excitedly.

  “What does it look like? Digging.”

  Chris snorted. “We got that.”

  “I’m helping Miss Beatrice. She needs two new fire hydrants...in case of another fire.”

  “That was our fault,” Chris said.

  “Yes. It was your fault, Chris.” Rand put his hand on his hip. “What are you going to do to make it up to her?”

  Chris stared at Rand.

  Eli’s eyes tracked from his brother to Rand and back. “I could help you.”

  “Yes, you could. In fact, you both should. That’s a good way to make restitution for what you did,” he said, staring directly at Chris.

  “No way,” Chris said. “We’d only get in trouble for using dangerous tools. They’d find something to pin on us. Come on, Eli.”

  Chris pushed his brother’s shoulder but Eli deflected the gesture and spun away from Chris. “You go,” Eli said, sliding his eyes toward Rand.

  Rand stood still and firm, keeping his expression purposefully neutral, though his eyes remained on Eli, hoping the younger boy would not cave.

  Chris pointed at Rand. “You think he’s some kind of action hero? Well, he’s not. He’s like all of them.” Chris spat on the ground and hurled a spite-filled glare at Rand. “Just like...” He swatted the air with his palm. “Aw, what’s the use.”

  Chris stalked off toward the dining hall.

  Eli watched his brother for a moment and then turned back to Rand and gave him a wary look. “Is he right?”

  “About what?” Rand felt his breath hitch in his lungs. What was he doing? Would he disappoint this kid? And even if he did, what was it to him?

  It struck Rand at that moment that this boy, whose life he’d saved, the one who’d spoken the truth about the origin of the fire and confessed to stealing the marshmallows and chocolate, the one who loved his brother with an open heart, deserved something better than what life had served him up already.

  Rand felt a surge of compassion.

  Eli took a cautious step forward. “That you’re not a hero. I think you are. You are for me and Miss Beatrice. If it weren’t for you, I’d be toast. Or crumbs.” Eli snickered at his little joke, macabre as it was.

  “I was just doing my job,” Rand retorted. “Any other firefighter would have done the same. I just happened to be there at that time. It was no big deal.”

  “It was to me. And Miss Beatrice told us that everything happens for a reason.”

  “She did, did she?”

  “Uh-huh.” Eli kept walking toward a large shovel. He leaned down and picked it up.

  Rand thought Eli looked like a Lilliputian with the shovel. There was no way the kid could lift it filled with dirt. But he had to give him credit for trying. That was determination. Guts. Maybe the kid did have what it took to help.

  Eli smiled tentatively. “I bet Miss Beatrice told you about us, huh?”

  “Some.”

  “Like that my dad’s in prison? My mom took off. She left me and Chris alone in our apartment. I like Zoey Phillips—she runs the foster kids’ place where the cops took us. She said she’s trying to find a home for Chris and me, but it won’t happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’re too old. And there’s two of us. I couldn’t leave Chris. It makes me sad to even think about being busted up.”

  “He takes care of you?”

  “Yeah. He used to do a lot of things for me. But now, sometimes I wonder...”

  “What?” Rand slung at the ground again, sweat pouring from his head. He turned his ball cap around so that the bill would shield his neck from the sun once it started rising in the sky. He wiped his forehead with his bare arm.

  “If I’m smarter than him. But that doesn’t make sense cuz I’m younger.”

  “I dunno. Smarts don’t necessarily come with age.” Rand pointed to the left. “Now, you stand out of the way while I sling this pickax. I don’t need to race you off to the ER because you got too close. And this hard dirt can go flying everywhere.”

  “So, you’re going to let me help?”

  Rand kept his head down as his arms vibrated with the force of the ax striking through the hard dirt. “I am.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?” Rand asked, slinging the ax again.

  “I’ve never been picked for a team before. Not even here at camp. Everybody thinks I’m too skinny and frail. I get on teams by default.”

  Rand held the pickax in midair and looked at the kid. “Default?”

  All his life, Rand had been the strong one. He’d been gifted with his father’s brawn and muscle. None of his brothers, though they were fit, were as naturally ripped as he was. In school, he’d been the captain of every team he played on—football, basketball, wrestling and track. He didn’t know what it was like to be puny, unloved. To live the misfit role, as Eli had.

  “Well, you’re no default player to me, Eli.”

  He put down the pickax and strode over to his truck, where he had a sharp small spade. As he turned around, he spied movement in the bushes to the far left. At first he thought it was a stray dog, as it stayed close to the ground. Then he realized it was a child.

  Chris.

  He hadn’t left.

  The boy was curious about what Rand and Eli were doing.

  That was a good sign.

  He’d been right to suspect this other side to Chris. If Rand continued to come to the camp, perhaps he could foster the trust he’d seen in Chris when he’d jumped into his arms.

  Pretending not to notice Chris, Rand handed the spade to Eli.

  “This is more your size. Start there at the end where I broke up the ground. Shovel those pieces into a pile alongside the trench we’ll dig together. Then after the pipe is laid, we’ll easily fill in the trench. You think you can do that?”

  Eli’s pale face lit up as if someone had flipped a switch. “Oh, yes, sir!” He saluted Rand. “I can do that.” He took the spade with both hands as if weighing it. His smile was as wide as his cheeks. “I like this tool. It’s just my size!”

  Rand paused. “That’s right. As if it was made for you.” Rand eyed the bushes. Chris was listening intently.

  “Yes,” Eli replied, staring at the spade as if it was made of gold.

  Rand realized this might have been the first time in the kid’s life he’d ever been given a real job. One with responsibility. It wasn’t just a spade Eli was holding. It was a chance to prove himself worthy.

  And what about Chris? Was he enjoying that chip on his shoulder, or was he feeling left out? Both boys needed guidance, he was sure about that. They needed the love and affection that Beatrice gave them. But they needed more. Rand hoped that Zoey Phillips could find them a real home and not bust them up.

  Knowing what little he did about the foster system, he suspected the prospects were dim.

  Rand felt his throat tighten with emotion. “Yeah, well... Time to work.” He went over and put his ball cap on Eli’s head.

  “What’s this for?”

  “I don’t want your pale skin to get sunburned. Miss Beatrice would be very angry with me about that.”

  “Yeah. You’re right. She’s protective.”

  Rand chuckled. “A real helicopter mom, huh?”

  Eli shook his head. “What’s that?”

  “Uh, like my mother. Always worrying about her kids.”

  “Oh. That’s what mot
hers do?”

  Rand’s eyebrows hitched. “Some mothers.”

  Rand picked up his ax and flung it into the hard ground. The dry earth cracked under the onslaught of the long javelin-shaped tooth of the ax. The runners of the fissures scattered under his feet.

  The kid made Rand feel responsible for him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. Not since Idaho. His eyes slid over to the bushes as he watched Chris run back toward the cabins, where the counselors were starting to rouse.

  Rand shoved away the thoughts of that other time—that failure—when his life had turned upside down and he’d been anything but a hero.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE BRIGHT FINGERS of dawn pried Beatrice’s eyes open. She smoothed her hair from her face and sat on the edge of her bed, wiggling her toes against the rag rug. She tried to write some of the letters of the alphabet with her toes, but zings of pain shot up her leg. She suffered through the letters until she hit z.

  She stood, stretched and went to the window. The kids were still in their beds, and the camp was quiet—except for an odd pounding noise she didn’t recognize.

  Following the sound, her eyes widened when she saw a familiar black truck. “Rand.”

  Swinging an enormous pickax over his head, he assaulted the ground with a force she thought surely was mighty enough to cause a rumble across the land and straight up to her cabin. His sweat-soaked T-shirt was plastered to his chest and arms, outlining the massive cut of his muscles. She drew in a breath.

  It was a sight to behold.

  She had to find out what he was doing. She awkwardly hurried to the bathroom, washed her face, shoved her hair into a band, brushed her teeth and then put on a clean camp shirt, shorts, one sock and her sneaker. On the other foot, she correctly secured the air boot. She’d learned to properly balance on the boot, so she left the crutches behind.

  Beatrice had only gone a short distance away from her cabin when she spotted Eli shoveling dirt with a small garden spade. He wore an ILFD ball cap, several sizes too large on his head. To the left, she saw Chris scooting away from the scene.

  What’s going on?

  “Chris?” she called, but he ignored her and kept moving toward the dining hall.

  But Bruce had also noticed Chris and motioned for the boy to come to him.

  “I’ve got this,” Bruce called to Beatrice.

  She gave him a thumbs-up and marched over to Rand.

  “What do you think you’re doing to my property without my permission?” Beatrice demanded as Rand yanked the pickax out of the dirt.

  Rand beamed at her with a smile so charming that she nearly lost her train of thought. Nearly.

  “He’s making improvements,” Eli answered proudly. “And I’m his number one helper.”

  “You shouldn’t be here, Eli. You could get hurt.”

  “It’s all right,” Rand assured her in a deep, authoritative voice, one that clearly stated that it would be all right. No one would get hurt. Not with Rand around.

  Rand’s eyes were focused on her, and the warmth in his gaze reminded her of their kiss. She remembered achingly well the way his fingers had tightened around her waist...

  All things she had no business remembering.

  “Eli, Amanda has your breakfast ready.” She stared at Rand, her hands on her hips.

  “But I don’t want to go. I’m doing a good job, aren’t I, Mr. Nelson?”

  “Yes, you are, Eli. I couldn’t ask for a better apprentice.” He gifted Eli with one of his smiles.

  Beatrice was shocked that she almost felt jealous. “I agree with Mr. Nelson. But you need your nourishment. Doesn’t he, Mr. Nelson?”

  “Yes, Eli,” Rand agreed. “You get your breakfast. I have to talk to Miss Beatrice.”

  Eli carefully laid down the spade. “I’ll be back.”

  “No, you have kayak lessons today and a water-safety class,” Beatrice replied pointedly.

  “Oka-a-ay.” Eli trudged off with slouched shoulders, dragging his feet across the dry dirt and dead grass.

  Beatrice watched him leave. She turned back to Rand, who hadn’t moved his eyes from her—which she liked, but shouldn’t. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  He lifted his chin, and he looked even more handsome as the sunlight played off his chiseled jaw.

  She admonished herself for noticing.

  “I talked to Luke last night,” Rand responded. “He said that the biggest cost was the labor to dig the trenches. I figured if I got the trenches ready for the pipes, it would save you some money.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  He looked down at the two-foot-deep trench he’d built. “It’s gotta be this deep for the pipes. It’s a good thing we don’t have to remove any tree trunks. That always takes a lot of time.”

  “No. I mean why are you doing this?”

  He dropped his smile, his eyes penitent in his face. “Because I’m sorry, Bee.”

  She almost felt guilty for making him feel guilty.

  “I’ve been thinking about this,” she said. “It’s not your fault. Eventually, the city would have cited me. I would have had to put the lines in sooner or later. This isn’t necessary.”

  “Oh, but it is. And I’m not doing it just for you. I’m doing it for the kids, too.”

  “Really?” She folded her arms over her chest. “The kids? Like Eli? Even Chris?”

  “Yeah. Like them.”

  What could she say to that? She had to admit that the boys would benefit from a male influence. Besides, she did need those trenches dug, and it would save her a lot of money.

  “All right. But I’ll be watching you.”

  “I hope so.”

  With a flush, Beatrice hobbled away.

  As Rand worked on the trenches over the next several days, Beatrice found it difficult to keep her mind on work and the kids. Okay. Absolutely impossible. The man was amazing. In four days, he’d slammed through the hard topsoil and finished one complete trench and in a day or so, he’d complete the second.

  Cindy had clicked plenty of photos on her phone to record the progress. Beatrice also noticed the shots were not only of the trenches, but also of Rand’s biceps in action. Beatrice could barely lift the heavy pickax he used, much less sling the thing up and down for hours on end as he had.

  But it wasn’t Rand’s physique that kept capturing her thoughts. What kind of guy would spend his free hours working like a prisoner on a chain gang solely to help her? What kind of guy took it upon himself to encourage two somewhat wayward boys into joining him in the work?

  The first day Rand had won over Eli. By the third day, Chris had tired of lurking in the bushes and had started bringing water out to Rand and Eli.

  By the end of that day, Chris had taken over Eli’s shoveling and instructed Eli to rest under the forsythia bushes. Chris was still closemouthed about his participation, but Beatrice had caught the two brothers walking back to the dining hall after Rand had left, joking around about who would get to wear Rand’s ILFD ball cap after dinner that night.

  Beatrice had always suspected that Chris wasn’t quite the hardened delinquent he portrayed himself to be. With each day with Rand, Chris’s arrogance melted.

  Just last evening, she’d walked in on an activities’ group and Chris was showing Jessica how to weave blue yarn around popsicle sticks to make stars that the kids would string across the dining hall for Jubilee Night, the last night in camp for most of the kids.

  As glad as she was to see the change, it also made her anxious. Rand was only working at the camp for a few days, and he had a very demanding—and dangerous—job. She didn’t want the kids to get too attached. It had to stop.

  She found him knee-deep in dirt.

  “Mr. Nelson?”

  “Rand,” he said, not stopping.r />
  “Rand. Can I talk to you?”

  He rested the pickax on the ground and gazed up at her. “Sure. Of course.”

  “It’s about Chris and Eli. I don’t think they should help you anymore.”

  “Why? It’s good for them, Chris especially.”

  “Maybe in the short term. But I have to consider their long-term welfare. What happens after you finish these trenches?”

  “There’s other work to do.”

  “Okay, but after that? You have a job you have to go back to. A life. One that doesn’t include two little boys.”

  “I still don’t see how that’s a problem. I’m enjoying being around them.”

  “Hmm. That surprises me.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, if you enjoyed being around kids so much, how come you don’t have any of your own?”

  She realized the question was too personal, but he answered.

  He leaned on the handle of the pickax. “My job as a firefighter and smoke jumper doesn’t allow me time for relationships.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, just last autumn I was gone for over three months fighting fires in California. Before that I was up in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.”

  “Yes, I see how that would be a problem. I guess if you wanted to settle down, you could just stop smoke jumping, right?” She’d meant it as more of a rhetorical question, but a dark shadow crossed his face at her words.

  “Stop? No, I can’t stop.”

  “So no matter who you leave behind, you’ll just run into the next fire, the next dangerous assignment?”

  “That’s my life, Bee.”

  “I see,” she repeated lamely. “Well, if you’re so committed to that life, maybe reconsider leading these boys on. I gotta go help Amanda with breakfast.” She turned and hobbled away as fast as she could.

  * * *

  RAND WATCHED HER leave then went back to work.

  Well, he thought, she’d wasted no time unearthing his Achilles’ heel.

  Idaho.

  The past was a territory Rand didn’t step into without massive protection. Not even his family knew all the details.

  Rand had thought too much of himself back when he’d been a smoke-jumper trainer in Boise, Idaho. He’d been too lenient with a cocky recruit. He hadn’t followed the rules, but someone else had paid with their life.