Saved by the Firefighter

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Saved by the Firefighter Page 20

by Rachel Brimble


  Linda released Trent and came toward Izzy with a warm and welcoming smile. “Izzy, hi. I’m so sorry. I just love having my boy home.” She pulled Izzy into an embrace and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Welcome. I hope you’re hungry. I’ve made mashed potatoes, Trent’s favorite pork and apple sausages with our very own homegrown peas.”

  “That sounds fantastic. Thank you. I hope you didn’t go to much trouble.”

  “Not at all. Now.” She let go of Izzy’s hand and faced Trent, her brow furrowed. “Be a gentleman and take Izzy’s bag up to Aimee’s room. Your bedroom is already made up, as always.” She lifted an eyebrow, her gaze stern. “Okay?”

  Trent turned and pulled an “I told you” face at Izzy and she bit back a smile, grateful the teasing gesture banished the awareness she was to sleep in the same room Trent’s passed sister once had. It felt strangely like an honor.

  “Izzy?”

  She blinked and faced Linda, her eyes alight with warmth. “Come with me, my love, and we’ll have a nice cup of tea. David has the patio heater on so we can sit outside.”

  “Great.”

  She clasped Izzy’s elbow and looked to Trent. “Upstairs, Trent. Don’t keep Izzy waiting. I suspect the poor girl is parched.”

  Trent rolled his eyes at Izzy behind his mother’s back as she steered Izzy toward the door from where she’d emerged from a few minutes before. The kitchen was big and homely with cream-painted walls and beech-wood cabinets. Gorgeous dusky pink curtains were pulled back at the window above the earthenware sink, and a matching set hung at the French doors that led to a softly lit patio beyond.

  “Take a seat while I pour the tea.” Linda gestured toward the small dining table. “The boys won’t be long and we can take our tea outside to enjoy the last of the sun. Did you have a good journey here?”

  Izzy sat and placed the strap of her purse over the back of the chair. “We did. We left late enough to miss the rush-hour traffic, but early enough to miss people coming out for the night.”

  “Good thinking.”

  No matter how she longed to feel differently, the family-oriented air of Trent’s childhood home tightened her chest with a deep longing to see her parents again. The bungalow was as foreign to her as a spaceship on Mars. She had no idea how to act. If she didn’t make one slipup after another while she was there, it would be a miracle.

  Insecurity and doubt pushed like a lead weight against her rib cage.

  Trent’s parents were caring, happy and inviting despite their daughter being so cruelly stolen from them. Whereas, after Izzy’s pushing, her mum and dad had fled the pressure and grief of Robbie’s death and Izzy’s depression. Even though parents and daughter reached an uneasy peace that resulted in Izzy giving them permission to leave, she hadn’t meant any of the scathing words she’d said.

  And now Mr. and Mrs. Palmer’s warmth and kindness only further illuminated how horrible and unreceptive Izzy had been to her parents, friends and other residents at the Cove during the months following Robbie’s death. Would she ever be capable of the same kind of authentic happiness Trent’s parents seemed to have?

  Or would her punishment be the inability to ever have a trusting and fulfilling relationship?

  Blinking, Izzy turned her attention to the door as Trent and his father entered the kitchen. Both men met her gaze and she smiled at their identical and gentle scrutiny. “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.” Trent came toward her, winked and squeezed her hand before he sat on the seat beside her. “Mum looking after you? Not frightening you too much? She can be a bit of a tyrant sometimes.”

  “Excuse me, Trent Reginald Palmer.” His mother glared. “Don’t you dare taint my good name in front of Izzy. Whatever will she think of me?”

  Trent laughed and Izzy did too before she turned to Trent and mouthed, “Reginald. Nice.” He narrowed his eyes in playful warning and Izzy grinned.

  “Okay, you two, let’s have this tea outside before we get stuck into dinner. Once those sausages are cooking, I won’t want to wait.” Trent’s dad chuckled as he took the loaded tea tray from his wife and headed through the open patio doors. “The seat nearest the heater is my wife’s before anyone thinks to grab it.”

  “Oh, David. Don’t be such a fusspot.”

  Trent’s mum followed her husband outside as Izzy and Trent rose from the table. Izzy lifted her bag from the chair and Trent slipped his arm around her waist. “You okay?”

  “Sure. Your parents are lovely.”

  He ran his gaze over her face before looking carefully into her eyes. “You look terrified. What are you thinking?”

  She considered telling a white lie to appease him, but no part of her wanted to start this potentially beautiful relationship with a lie...even a white one. She exhaled a shaky breath and glanced toward the open doors where Linda poured the tea while her husband chattered. Izzy faced Trent. He stood so close she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes. The spicy scent of him drifted over her, giving her courage. “It’s... Oh God, how do I say this?”

  “Talk to me. I want you to be happy here.”

  “That’s just it.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  She inhaled. “You came here—”

  “Iz, I explained that—”

  “And now that I’ve met your parents I’m not surprised.” She pressed a hand to his chest and smiled in an effort to allay the worry in his eyes. “But I can’t help being afraid that I’ll never be the refuge to you that your parents are. They are so amazingly happy, kind and welcoming despite...”

  “Despite Aimee?”

  She nodded and glanced toward the patio doors and smiled when Trent’s parents snapped their heads around to face the view rather than the kitchen. “I feel so bad about how I behaved after Robbie died, and I can’t help worrying I’ll become that person again in the future. What if I’m not enough for you when you have this wonderful home to come back to whenever you feel the need? I’ve never had a home like this and I’m not sure I ever will.”

  He kissed her, before swiping some fallen hair from her eyes. “Maybe not, but if we work out, you’ll be a part of my family, so stop worrying and just enjoy our time here. Okay?”

  As he took her hand and led her outside, Izzy tried to silence his “if we work out” as it resounded in her head. She swallowed. Did she need to put the brakes on their intimacy or risk out-and-out heartbreak? If the “if” was still there for Trent, it meant neither of them was as invested in them as they should be. Trent wasn’t her and didn’t have the same innate loneliness she suffered. Was she leaning on him too hard, too fast?

  He was her rock, as he was for Will and Sam. It was Trent’s strength and sense of protection that had attracted and repelled her like a yo-yo all these years. It was why she’d avoided him for so long. Now that she was in his parents’ home and they were together, she had no idea how she would be without him by her side. She took a deep breath. It was time to drag back a little of her self-protection before any damage seeped through and left her more afraid of heartbreak than ever before.

  * * *

  TRENT WALKED DOWN his parents’ stairs, the taste of Izzy’s lips branded on his like a tattoo. Having her sleep in Aimee’s bedroom was as surreal as it was satisfying. To have her visit with him at his parents’ place was something he hadn’t imagined, let alone believed might one day happen. The conversation had flowed through tea and gradually turned to out-and-out laughter through dinner. His parents’ faces when they looked at Izzy gave Trent all the confidence he needed to believe she was the woman for him.

  He walked into the kitchen.

  His mother sat at the table, a glass of red wine in her hand as she flicked through a magazine. A soft smile curved her lips as she hummed along to the music coming from the digital radio on the counter.

 
God, he loved her. She bore the weight of her losses and the joy of her gains as they came. She didn’t falter, doubt or wreak vengeance. No matter how hard the blow. His smile faltered. On the other hand, her son often struggled to stay above water. What if he was someone destined to let people down? What if he continued to fail to save lives? Izzy’s fears about his job were slowly becoming his own. He now worried about making promises...especially to Izzy as she joined the people who trusted him.

  He walked toward the bottle of red wine by the sink. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not.” His mother closed the magazine and smiled. “Has Izzy gone to bed?”

  “Yeah. She says she’s tired.”

  “She says she’s tired?” She raised an eyebrow. “That sounds suspiciously like you don’t believe her.”

  Trent lowered himself into the seat opposite his mother and took a sip of his wine. “I just want her to enjoy her time here, that’s all.”

  “And you don’t think she is? She seems happy to me.”

  “She is... I think. I’m probably worrying unnecessarily.” He took another drink and dismissed his melancholy with a wave. “So, why are you sitting here on your own? Where’s Dad?”

  “Watching a documentary that involves lions tearing apart bison. I’d rather sit out here, thank you very much. So, why do you think that beautiful and lovely lady upstairs isn’t enjoying herself?”

  Trent shifted back in his seat. “Can’t we just talk about lions instead?”

  “No.”

  He exhaled and leaned his forearms on the table. “It’s complicated.”

  “I can do complicated. Complicated is my middle name. Hit me with it.”

  “When Robbie died in that garage fire, Izzy changed. She pushed me and anyone else who wanted to be there for her as far away as possible.”

  “That’s called a coping mechanism, Trent. We all have our different ways of dealing with things. You run away. Izzy turns away.”

  “I don’t run away.”

  “Then what do you call coming back home a few weeks ago?” She tilted her head to the side, her gaze soft and full of love. “Of course I want you to run here rather than somewhere else where you’ll be alone. What I don’t understand is why Izzy’s way of dealing with her problems is bothering you so much. From what I’ve seen, she’s doing admirably. Sure, there’s an element of sadness hanging over her. One that might always be there, but judging from her ability to laugh and joke with me and your father the way she did, she’s going to be just fine.” She took a sip of her wine, her gaze on his. “I think the real problem here is you, not Izzy.”

  “How do you do it, Mum?” He shook his head, admiration for the woman sitting in front of him yanking on his heart. “How do you go on after losing Aimee?”

  Her cheeks flushed and she looked into the depths of her glass. “One day at a time. That’s all any parent who loses a child can do.” She looked up, unshed tears glazing her eyes as she squeezed his hand where it lay on the table. “It’s all anyone can do who loses someone they love deeply. I think whatever’s going on inside that big heart of yours is there because you’re afraid of loving someone the way you did Aimee. No matter how much you might think you want to be with Izzy, you owe it to her to be honest about what’s going on in here.” She pressed her hand to his chest. “If you can’t be in the relationship one hundred percent, you should get out now. It’s not fair to either of you.”

  “It’s not that.” He picked up his glass. “The more she tells me she’s afraid of things ending badly between us, the more afraid I am of letting her down when she needs me most. It’s nothing to do with how I feel about her. Her smiling and laughing is great, but I’m not convinced it’s real. Not yet.”

  “You know, I did the same pretending as Izzy possibly is now, but each day my laughter and smiling comes a little easier. She’ll get there in her own time. It isn’t up to you to carry her along. Believe me, your father tried the same with me and it doesn’t work.” She sighed. “The problem with strong, hardworking and caring men like you and your father is you think you owe the world everything to make up for what you view as a hanging offense but is actually just a mistake. Do you blame yourself for her brother? Is that what this is about?”

  “No...not really.” He drew in a long breath and exhaled. “I suppose I still hate that Izzy is hurting so much and at one time she pointed her pain and blame at me, but that’s not the case anymore. She’s apologized for that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Trent held his mother’s gaze as his mind scrambled with thoughts and his gut writhed with uncertainty. “I think about Aimee and Robbie every day. And now I’ll think about Sam too. I don’t want to keep beating myself up about every life I didn’t save, but how can I not? It’s the truth of the job.”

  “Then maybe it’s time you gave it up.”

  Trent stilled. As much as his job was getting to him, he couldn’t ever imagine not doing it. Sure, he thought about quitting now and then, but the thought never lasted any amount of time. Firefighting was a massive part of him. It was what made him who he was. He sometimes wondered if he’d ever walk away before he was forced to retire...or was dead. He loved his work as much as he sometimes loathed it. Fire was his nemesis...his enemy...his lifeline. He couldn’t imagine executing as much energy or passion into anything else.

  His mother’s gaze hardened. “God knows, I’d be celebrating if you walked away from firefighting, but I think they’ll have to push you out the door before you’ll go.”

  “There’s no way I can give up my work.”

  “Then what are you going to give up? Because if you want this to work out with Izzy, or any other woman for that matter, you’re going to have to surrender something. I suggest you get rid of the guilt, inability and fear you’ve got slithering through your blood like poison because Izzy could be your anecdote, Trent. Don’t throw her away.”

  “I’ve got no intention of throwing her away.”

  “I’ve seen you grieving, I’ve seen you angry at the entire world, but this self-loathing is different and that means it must be your relationship with Izzy that’s put it there. Maybe she’s not the woman you thought she’d be? Maybe you had an idyllic fantasy in your head of saving the girl when she’s perfectly capable of saving herself in her own time?”

  His mother’s summary cut a little too close to the bone. Hadn’t Izzy made the same suggestion to him? He clenched his jaw. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what?”

  “I worry she isn’t ready for what I want to give her, or even if I’m capable of giving her what she wants. As much as I understand her fears, fighting fire gives me purpose. I want Izzy, of course I do, but I’m not sure she’ll want me in the long term if I continue to fight fire and will inevitably lose some days.”

  “That’s her choice to make. Not yours. It might be that Izzy isn’t the right girl for you, but either way, you owe it to her to be honest.”

  “I pursued her, Mum. I wanted her and now that I’ve got her...” He shook his head and drained his glass. “I don’t know what’s wrong me. How could I want her so badly and then worry she isn’t right for me?”

  A noise behind him made Trent turn.

  Izzy stood in the doorway, her beautiful face free of makeup and pale but for the two spots of color high on her cheeks. She cleared her throat and lifted the empty glass in her hand. “Um, I just came down to refill my water.”

  His mother stood, the legs of her chair screeching across the terra-cotta tiles in her haste. “Of course. Here, let me.”

  Trent rose to his feet and reached for Izzy’s arm as she made to walk past him. “Iz...”

  She stepped away from his grasp, her gaze icy cold.

  He dropped his hand as his heart picked up speed. “Let me explain.”

 
His mother came toward them and held the water out to Izzy. “Here you go. Why don’t you two sit down? I’m just off to bed.”

  Heavy silence filled the kitchen as his mother clearly tried her hardest to appear casual as she returned her magazine to the rack, emptied her half-drunk wine into the sink and made for the door. “Sleep tight, my loves. See you in the morning.”

  Trent watched her leave, Izzy’s gaze burning into his temple from where she stood across the kitchen. Once he heard the telltale creak of his mother’s footsteps on the stairs, he turned. “Come and sit down. Please.”

  Her gaze hovered on his, her shoulders high. “I heard what you said.”

  “I know and that’s why we need to talk.” He pulled out the seat beside him. “Sit. Please.”

  She hesitated before coming forward. As she placed her glass on the table, the water trembled. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “Then I’ll talk first and you can say whatever you feel once I’m done. Deal?”

  She nodded and took a sip of her water.

  Trent inhaled a long breath, his heart a mess of love and loss that he didn’t understand but knew he had to verbalize or risk his reservations causing a chasm between them. He cleared his throat. “When I said I don’t know if you’re the right girl for me, I really meant that I’m scared I’ll never be the right man for you. It doesn’t matter how much I might love you, if you can’t get over how Robbie died. I fight fire and I love my job...most of the time. If every time you look at me you worry I’ll end up dead, I worry how we’ll go the distance. I love you so much, but...”

  “I get what you’re saying.”

  He stared into her beautiful eyes. “And?”

  “And I think I’ve still got a lot to work on, but I’m trying, Trent.”

  He swiped his hand over his face, guilt he might have further hurt her searing his chest. “I know you are.”

  “Then what else would you have me do?” She blinked and her eyes shone with unshed tears, but her gaze determined. “Right now I’m giving you my best. If that’s not enough for you, I don’t know what else I can do. I’m here. Now. At your parents’ home. Doesn’t that show you how serious I am about being with you...how much I love you?”

 

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