Between Honor and Duty

by Charlotte Maclay

  Logan touched the boy’s neck, found a pulse, weak but steady, his respirations slow and shallow. He pulled his mouthpiece out of his mouth and slipped it into Kevin’s.

  “Breathe, son. Don’t check out on me. You don’t want to break your mother’s heart.”

  He hefted the boy in his arms, the effort costing him a deep breath, and he coughed. When he turned, he realized the smoke and flames had caught up with him, blocking his way back to the stairs. Flares of orange and red tongued the railing and licked across the steps, the dry wood drawing in the fire as though thirsty for its touch.

  The only windows on this floor were too high and too small to crawl through, the burning stairs their only route of escape.

  Putting the boy down again, Logan shrugged off his breathing apparatus and took off his jacket, wrapping it protectively around Kevin. Knowing Kevin wouldn’t have a chance if he passed out, Logan strapped on the breathing tanks again, took a deep breath of clear air, and, with the boy in his arms, headed for the stairs.

  He pictured Janice waiting for him on the other side of the flames and smoke, and he held that image as he descended into hell.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The wait was interminable.

  More engine companies arrived, sirens wailing. Two ambulances screamed onto the scene. The water cannon on the ladder truck delivered an arching column of water onto the warehouse. The sun caught the spray, turning it into a rainbow of color, but beneath the fleeting beauty deadly black smoke snaked out around the derelict building.

  Janice clung to the roof of the chief’s vehicle while behind her gawking civilians jostled together and pressed against the police line.

  Holding her breath, paralyzed with fear, she willed Logan to reappear with her son. She would not—could not—accept that they were lost in the fiery inferno. Surely her love was powerful enough to guide them to safety.

  A cheer went up on the far side of the warehouse.

  Unable to stand waiting a moment longer, she ducked beneath the yellow tape and dashed past the distracted police officer toward clamoring cheers.

  Bedlam reigned as firefighters converged on a single figure walking away from the building.

  Janice’s heart faltered. Logan! But where was her son? Dear Lord, where was Kevin?

  Then she saw the bundle Logan carried in his arms, something wrapped in a fire jacket. Motionless. A dead weight.

  Fear nearly drove her to her knees. “Kevin!” She raced forward. Nothing, no one, could stop her from reaching her baby. Her first-born.

  Strong hands restrained her before she could snatch her son from Logan’s embrace.

  “He’s breathing,” Logan said. Soot streaked his face, but beneath the grime his dimple appeared. “He’s going to be okay.”

  Those were the most beautiful words Janice had ever heard.

  Then Logan dropped to his knees, his eyes rolled up until only the whites showed, and he passed out.

  THE NURSE bustled into the curtained cubicle with a clipboard in her hand. A brassy blonde with a quick smile and a no-nonsense attitude, her name tag read Adrian Goodfellow, but Janice had heard the doctors call her Addy.

  “When you have a chance, Mrs. Gainer, Admissions would like you to fill out these forms. You know how insurance companies can be.”

  “Of course.” Reluctantly, Janice relinquished her grip on Kevin’s hand. The Emergency Room doctors had poked and prodded at her son, and except for some mild smoke inhalation—which had rendered him temporarily unconscious—and singed hair, they had declared him fit. Falling asleep under that heap of blankets had trapped enough air with him to save him until Logan had arrived.

  In contrast, she wasn’t sure she’d ever recover from the trauma of watching Logan walk into that burning building alone and then, what seemed like hours later, seeing him reappear with her unconscious son in his arms. And then collapse at her feet. The memory still had the power to stall her heartbeat, and she shuddered.

  “Can I get you anything?” the nurse asked, concerned.

  “I’m fine, really.” If only she could stop shaking on the inside. “What about Logan—the firefighter who—”

  “Our local hero?” Addy grinned broadly. “They don’t make ’em any stronger or sweeter than Logan Strong, or braver as it turns out. Your boy here was darn lucky Logan came along.”

  Kevin looked embarrassed.

  “Yes, I know,” Janice said, “but I haven’t seen him since they brought him into emergency. Was he seriously hurt?”

  “Nope. A little singed around the edges, but he’s a lucky fellow, too. Seems like some smart woman ought to latch onto the man before he takes one too many risks.” She waggled her eyebrows and shook her head. “Real pity after all this time he hasn’t given me a tumble, and not for my lack of trying, either.”

  Janice didn’t know quite how to respond to Addy’s comment, so she simply nodded sympathetically.

  “The doctor admitted him for observation if you’re interested in dropping by his room upstairs when you’re done here.”

  “Yes, we’d like to do that.”

  Winking, Addy said, “Who knows, maybe you’ll be the one to latch onto the man. I hear he’s a great cook.” With that, the nurse left them alone.

  Kevin finally found his voice. “I guess I really screwed up, huh?” His face was still dirty, his voice husky, he smelled of smoke, and Janice’s heart filled once again with relief and love.

  “Running away is never the answer to any problem,” she said. It hadn’t been the answer for Kevin’s father any more than it had been for his son.

  “No, I mean this is gonna cost you, isn’t it?”

  She stroked his dark, sweat-sticky hair. “Don’t worry. We’ll manage. Besides, you’re worth every penny and more. Don’t you ever forget that. I love you, Kevin.”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t hold her gaze.

  Her stomach knotted on the fear that while Kevin was alive, she’d lost her son’s love and respect. She needed to get that back, or at least resolve some of the issues that had so troubled him. “Let’s talk about why you ran away.”

  “Can’t we just go home, Mom? I’m hungry.”

  “First, I want you to understand it wasn’t Logan’s fault your father died. We’ll never know for sure what happened that day.” And she felt no need to share her suspicion that Ray had effectively given up and walked across that roof knowing he’d never come back. “But I am sure his last thoughts were about his family—you and me and Maddie. There was nothing Logan could have said or done that would have saved your father’s life, or he would have done it.”

  “He saved me, didn’t he?”

  “He did. And he could have died trying.” She was anxious to see for herself that Logan was all right and thank him for risking his own life to save her son.

  “But you and him, I mean, it just doesn’t seem right, you know? Like, Dad hasn’t been dead that long.”

  This part was more difficult to explain to a nine-year-old, or to herself, for that matter. Under the circumstances she didn’t feel she could reveal that she loved Logan. Certainly not until she knew whether he returned her feelings. And given Kevin’s fragile understanding of the situation, her revelations might have to wait for a long time.

  “Could you just trust me on this, Kevin? Nothing Logan or I have done takes away from the fact that I love you very much. Your father did, too. And Maddie. That’s what you need to focus on the next time you get upset with me about anything.”

  He studied her with serious eyes much like his father’s. “Even when you make me take out the trash?”

  “Even then.” She smiled, sensing her son would be all right. He might not understand everything that had happened in the past two months but he was willing to give her some slack.

  She tugged him to a sitting position on the Emergency Room gurney. “How ’bout we go see Logan? I think we owe him our thanks.”

  LOGAN HAD FLUIDS flowing into his arm via an IV, his h
ands were swathed in gauze and his lower legs stung like crazy, but he was okay. Based on the doctor’s reports, so was Kevin. Logan couldn’t ask for more than that.

  Beside his bed, Logan’s father stood, looking frail and worried.

  “I thought I taught you not to be a hero,” he said. The bright light of parental distress glistened in his eyes. “Firefighting’s a team effort, not a solo sport.”

  “Sorry, Dad. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do.” It still did, as far as Logan was concerned, and he’d do it all over again if faced with the same decision.

  “Your mother would shoot me if you got seriously hurt on the job. I always told her fighting fires was lots safer than being an accountant.” His lips twitched. “All those numbers would drive me crazy and I’d probably jump out the window.”

  Logan had heard the story a thousand times, but he still smiled. “Where’d she go?” His mother had been in the room, then had vanished while he’d been talking to his father.

  “She claimed she was going to go see Mrs. Linfield, who’s here for a hip replacement. Truth to tell, I think it was hard for your mother to see you in a hospital bed. Women are like that. They stand up just fine till the excitement’s all over, then they fall apart.”

  Gripping the guard rail, Logan shifted his position on the bed. “Is that how she was when you fought fires?”

  “Claimed she never gave me a thought while I was on duty. She was too busy raising you boys. But she was right there at the front door when I came off my shift.” He pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat down.

  “Torie hated me being a firefighter.”

  “I remember. But every woman’s different, son. I’m not sure you should base the whole rest of your life on what your ex-wife told you.”

  “Maybe not. But I can see being a firefighter’s wife isn’t all fun and games.” Even his mother, who Logan had thought coped well with the danger of her husband’s job, had had her moments of anxiety. Logan was right not to pursue Janice for the same reason.

  “Your mother and I have had a good life together. I don’t think she’d have traded it to marry a garage mechanic or some such.”

  No, but his mother hadn’t lost her husband to the job. Janice had. No woman in her right mind would want to take that risk again.

  As if thinking about Janice made her materialize, she appeared in the doorway. With a quiet gasp, she stepped into the room.

  “They told me you weren’t badly hurt! What’s all this?” She made a vague sweep of her hand to include Logan’s IV and his bandages, and she got a fearful look in her eyes.

  Logan hastened to reassure her. “I’m not hurt, honest. A few second-degree burns and a lot less hair on my legs than I used to have, which only means I won’t look so good in my kilt for a while.”

  She didn’t look convinced or amused. “What about that IV?”

  “It’s only a precaution to be sure my fluids are okay.” He gestured for her to come closer. “I want you to meet my father, Harry Strong. Dad, this is Janice Gainer.”

  With visible effort, she pulled her attention away from Logan and shook his father’s hand. “And this young man—” she beckoned Kevin into the room “—is why your son is in that hospital bed. Kevin?”

  The boy kept his head down and his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I’m sorry, Logan,” he mumbled. He’d obviously been prompted by his mother to apologize for the trouble he’d caused. It was equally clear he wasn’t sure about his feelings for Logan. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

  “It’s okay, Kevin. I’m just glad we both got out of there without much more than singed eyebrows to show for it.”

  Janice slid her arm around the boy’s shoulders. “I’m afraid, Mr. Strong, that my son’s adventure caused Logan to miss his oral exam, too. I know how much Logan wanted to get that promotion.”

  Harry Strong rested his hand on Logan’s arm. “I’d say my son had his priorities in order. Your son’s life is far more important than any promotion, or any job, for that matter. I’m very proud of my boy.”

  A lump formed in Logan’s throat. Once he’d heard that Kevin had run away, he hadn’t given the oral exam another thought. And he was glad his father felt he’d made the right decision. There’d be other testing cycles, other chances for promotion. They just might not come soon enough for his father to pin a new engineer’s shield on Logan’s shirt.

  Pulling himself to his feet, Logan’s father spoke to Kevin. “I don’t know about you, young man, but hanging around a hospital makes me thirsty. Could you use a canned drink? I’m buying.”

  The boy shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”

  “Good. Then let’s have a look-see what they’ve got down the hall.” Moving slowly, he looped his arm over the boy’s shoulder both for support and reassurance. “You play any sports, young man?” he asked as the two of them walked out into the hallway, turning toward the family waiting room.

  Janice smiled when they were out of sight. “Your father’s very nice.”

  “Perceptive, too. He must have figured we’d want a minute alone.”

  She lingered at the foot of his bed. “You’re sure you’re going to be all right? Your hands—”

  “I’ll maybe milk a week or two on disability, then I’ll be back on the job. I was very lucky. So was Kevin.”

  “He is sorry he put you both at risk. I don’t think he’ll be running away again anytime soon.”

  “I sure hope not, for all our sakes.” Sensing her discomfort, he forced a smile.

  Her fingers moved uneasily along the foot board of his bed, and she picked up a towel that had been left there, folding it carefully, then laying it back down again. Logan knew she had something to say and couldn’t find the words.

  “It’s okay, Jan,” he said softly.

  She looked up. “It’s Kevin. He’s still confused—about us, I mean. And his father. I think it would be better if, for now, at least, that we not—”

  “—see each other,” he finished for her. Even though he’d known this was coming, knew it was the right thing to do, the words seared him more painfully than third-degree burns would. “I understand, Jan. Your family comes first.”

  She hesitated again. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her chin trembled. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough. For everything.”

  He wanted her to go before he pleaded with her to stay. Before he forgot he couldn’t give her what she needed.

  Abruptly, she whirled and ran out the door.

  Logan’s whispered good-bye locked in his throat.

  BETWEEN CARING for her son, making sure Maddie was reassured about her brother, and worrying about Logan, Janice had a fretful night.

  Despite his father’s reassurances, she felt badly that Logan’s heroics had cost him a chance for promotion. At least she could clear the air with Chief Gray about what had happened to Ray, remove any doubts that Logan had been responsible for her husband’s death.

  After dropping the children at school the next morning, she drove to the fire station.

  Chief Gray stood as she entered his office. “Mrs. Gainer. How’s your boy?”

  “No worse for wear, thanks to Logan and your men.”

  The chief, always the image of spit-and-polish in his uniform, ushered her to a chair. “It’s too little, too late, I know, but the city has bulldozers out on the warehouse site this morning tearing down what’s left of the building.”

  “At least no one else will be hurt there.”

  “Should have been done years ago.” He leaned back on the edge of his desk, his expression friendly. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “It’s about Logan. I’m afraid others may blame him for Ray’s death, and I wanted you to know the truth.” She proceeded to relate what she’d learned in Las Vegas, including telling him about Ray’s gambling debts and infidelity, and how his death might well have been suicide. She had trouble meeting the chief’s sympathetic gaze. But Logan deserved her honesty
.

  The chief gave her shoulder a paternal squeeze when she finished.

  “I’m sorry about your husband, and I have been worried about Strong. He’s always been one of our best men. Lately, though, he’s set himself apart from the others. It made me question whether he was ready for promotion.”

  “He felt so guilty.”

  “Rest assured, none of us blamed him. He’s so darn conscientious, though, I can see how he’d be harder on himself than anyone else would be.”

  “I feel like my family has already cost him a promotion because he missed the oral exam. I didn’t want there to be any lingering question later on that Logan could have prevented Ray’s death.”

  “I appreciate how difficult a time you’ve had lately and how hard it was for you to tell me all that you have.” He straightened. “As far as I’m concerned, both your husband and Logan Strong are heroes. I’ll make sure the men understand that, too.”

  He took her hand as she stood, and Janice was grateful there was no need for her to speak. The emotions crowding in her throat would have made it impossible to utter a sound.

  HIS FIRST DAY back at work, Logan climbed the stairs to the station’s living quarters. There’d been plenty of cars in the employee parking lot. But downstairs it had been eerily quiet. Nobody around the fire trucks, the offices deserted.

  Maybe there was a special training session going on he hadn’t heard about.

  He opened the door to the rec room.

  “Hail the returning hero!” chorused a whole room full of firefighters and support staff. A huge paper banner was draped across the room with the words Welcome Back printed in red, white and blue stripes. Logan was stunned and momentarily speechless as well as secretly pleased.

  He ducked under the banner. “Aw, come on, guys. Isn’t that a bit much?”

  “It would be,” Diaz piped up, “except we’re all sick of Tolliver’s cooking.”

  “Yeah, all he knows how to fix is noodles ’n’ nothing,” Gables complained.

  “We’re trying to make you feel so good about coming back that you’ll do your linguini for us,” Diaz confessed.