Fighting the Fire

by Jennifer Conner

  Mia rummaged through the box and pulled out a pair of pink pajama pants decorated with big lips, and a pink camisole that belonged to Mickey’s sister. They had been in a box of miscellaneous clothes he’d brought to her after she’d lost her own in the fire. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, so she quickly pulled them on.

  She looked down at herself and tried to stay positive.

  Pink. She was supposed to like pink, being a girl. She hated it. With her native skin, pink made her look orange. She shook her head and reached for a tube of hand cream when she heard a voice behind her on the stairs.

  “Mia? Mia Koda?”

  She flipped around, stifling a scream. “What do you want?”

  The man cocked an eyebrow as a puzzled look crossed his face. “I don’t want anything. I just stopped by.”

  “You don’t just stop by a basement. What do you want?”

  “I’m Cy Brennon.” He limped stiffly down another step and peeked under the concrete overhang. “Hey, I’m sorry. I...can I come down?” he finally asked. “I was talking with Mickey and he thought it would be all right, you know if I came down. I would’ve called first, but he told me you don’t have a phone.” His eyes were dark with concern. “I’m the guy who pulled you out of the fire.”

  “I remember. Thanks.” Mia shuffled over and sat in a tilted plastic lawn chair in the corner of the room. “You might as well come down, you’re most of the way here already.”

  “Yeah. I guess I am.” He shot her a dazzling boyish grin that made her knees feel weak and her heart skip a beat.

  Cy limped down the last few steps, and came to a stop, slowly looking around the room. He skimmed a hand over one of the piles of library books covering the table.

  “I know what you’re thinking. There’s no place like home.” Mia smiled a fake, caustic smile. “Here, you have the chair.”

  He thanked her and sat down. “No. I was thinking about how scary it must be to lose everything you have in a fire.”

  “I didn’t have much to begin with.”

  “You had a house.”

  “Had is the right word.”

  He looked around the room as he spoke, “The fire investigator said you hadn’t lived there long.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you here because of the fire investigator?”

  “No. I talked with him to figure out where you’d gone after that night. I was pretty out of it. I’d sucked in a bit of smoke. Here I was the one who was supposed to save you...” He met her gaze, causing a chill to run up her arms. He shook his head and tipped his chin up, smiling at the ceiling. “Can we back up? Because this conversation is not going anything like I’d planned.”

  “What was your plan?” Mia sat on the edge of the bed and pulled up her legs resting her head on her knees. Her straight black hair reached the mattress.

  “Hell.” He looked uneasy as he rubbed the large palms of his hands together. “I guess I should have had a plan. I’m not a very good plan-kind-of-guy. What I hadn’t planned was breaking in on you and making you feel uncomfortable. I only wanted to come by and see how you were.”

  “Couldn’t be better.”

  “Dumb question. I guess it’s like after a plane crash when the reporter asks the survivors, ʻhow do you feel’? Dumb. Sorry. I never seem to say the right thing.”

  “I’m okay,” she said, genuinely touched by this stranger’s caring attitude. No one cared about her. “What happened to your leg?”

  He laughed a deep, rich sound. “I got it stuck between a couple of boards.”

  “The floor caved in.”

  “Yeah, well. I just pulled my hip a bit out of joint, that’s all. I’ll be good as new in no time.” He stretched back causing the chair to groan under his bulky frame.

  “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Mia looked down at the floor and scrubbed her palm over the textured bedspread.

  “Like you had any control over it?” He started to smile, but then stopped when he saw the look on her face. “Mia, I gotta’ ask. Off the record. Okay? I’m not a fire investigator nor do I ever plan to be. You didn’t want the fire to start did you?”

  Panic rose as she fought for composure.

  “It was something you said that night. Asking me to leave you behind in the fire? Why would you do that?” Cy's voice was low.

  Cy leaned forward to hear what she was saying.

  She continued, “I didn’t want to die that night if that’s what you’re asking, and I wasn’t trying to start a fire to kill myself.” She tried to hold back her emotions, but tears escaped and ran down her cheeks. “I used the money I’d saved for a down payment on the damn house. I was so happy to have a place of my own.”

  Cy pulled himself up from the chair and walked the few steps to the bed. A quick grimace creased his face as he put pressure on his bad leg. He sat down heavily on the bed next to her and draped a long arm over her shoulder. “Hey, it was just a house.”

  He was so close she could see the multiple colors that danced through his blue eyes. Mia breathed in slowly. He smelled like the fir trees surrounding the town. “That house was everything I had.”

  “It’s hard to put things in perspective when you have a loss like that. But you were the most important thing in that house, not the stuff, or the house.”

  “Said like a true fireman. I feel so bad.” Mia couldn’t figure out why she was telling him how she was feeling. She never talked with anyone, it was too dangerous.

  Cy’s large hand pulled her hair away from her face and let his fingers graze her neck, but when he touched her bare skin, there was a loud snap.

  They both felt it.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  Mia jumped to her feet and stumbled away. She’d let him get too close. She waited, knowing what would come next. The questions.

  He rubbed the pad of his thumb over his palm and looked at her. “I know a lot of crummy things have happened this week. I wondered if I could help make things a little better. I have this spaghetti feed on Saturday night at the Grange Hall. I’m going to serve food to help raise money for a sick little boy from town. He’s over at Children’s Hospital in Seattle, and his mom and dad don’t have health insurance. You know how that goes these days.”

  Mia nodded, startled. It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. No questions?

  “Would you go with me?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t like crowds.”

  “There shouldn’t be too many people and we don’t have to stay the whole night. Come on, please? Don’t send me ‘spaghettiless.’”

  “That is not a word.” She couldn’t help but smile. “Is it?”

  “It is now.” White teeth showed through in a grin on his handsome, deeply tanned face.

  Mia sat back. “You’re crazy.”

  “You should do that more often.”

  “What? Call you crazy?”

  He studied her for a second longer than she was comfortable with and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. “Smile. I haven’t seen you smile, it’s good.”

  She should be telling him to get out, not smile at her. What was she doing? Mia twisted her hair in a knot between her fingers. “It’s not like you couldn’t get another date.”

  “I don’t date much.” Cy stretched his legs and twisted his foot from side to side.

  “You?” She snorted. “Right.”

  “Believe what you want, it’s the truth.” Cy massaged his knee through his jeans. “I used to date more when I was in college. Now, I’m too busy and I work weird shifts at the station. I also have a thing about already knowing all the girls that live in Klahowya from grade school. It feels like I’m dating my sister or cousin. I’ve known all the girls my whole life.” Mia watched the expression change on his face as he wrinkled his nose. The blue depths of his gaze held her captive as she watched his perfect mouth slant in a smile.

  She laughed again. It did feel good. Strange. Different. Foreign.

  �
��Come on,” he said, urging her to decide. “Free spaghetti.”

  “I work in an Italian restaurant.” She couldn’t believe she was feeling comfortable talking with this man she hardly knew.

  That never happened.

  “But the spaghetti’s free, so it’s perfect then. We’re on?” He obviously wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He reached out his hand. “Hey, could you give this poor cripple a hand-up?”

  She paused, trying not to let her fear get the best of her. She focused deep within to hold the energy at bay, touched his hand, and pulled. Cy’s fingers felt warm and strong as they wrapped around her wrist.

  No snap. Nothing happened.

  Heat radiated off his body as he stood inches from her, looking into her face. Mia had the urge to let her head drop to his chest, longing to hear the beat of his heart against her cheek.

  Just for a moment.

  Her attraction to him frightened her. She was so attuned to this man, her body responding with every nerve coming alive. It was a foreign sensation of desire, making her burn, making her wonder how those sensuous lips of his would taste? Would feel, pressed against hers.

  Cy finally broke eye contact. “Saturday. About five o’clock? Sorry for barging in on you. I hope you’re not mad.” Turning, he limped toward the stairs. “See you then?”

  Mia nodded quickly. “Sure.” Her body vibrated from the powers inside. As she watched him disappear up the stairs, she extended her arm and opened her hand. In her palm was a multi-colored, shimmering sphere of glowing light. It tingled and burned where the sphere spun in slow, lazy circles around and around, shooting dazzling rainbow colors.

  For once she’d controlled it, she’d felt the emotions building, but kept it inside until she was ready. The powers had done what she’d wanted, not what it wanted.

  Maybe she could do this after all? But she wasn’t in control all the time, if she had been, her house wouldn’t have burned.

  She couldn’t let Cy get too close, and she would never take the chance of hurting him.

  She’d leave town right after the spaghetti feed. She’d pack her bags, hop a bus, and leave the state altogether.

  Mia walked to a bucket of water that always sat by the sink, balled the sphere into her hand, and plunged it into the cold water.

  There was a hiss of steam, then a flash of blue light. When she drew her clenched hand out and opened her fist, water dripped to the floor, but the sphere had disappeared.

  Mia curled her fingers closed and cried.

  Chapter 4

  Cy dreaded the day that he’d have to face the captain. He had to get it out of the way sooner or later. The anger that hung between them ate at him, and he wanted it over.

  “Captain?” He tried to keep his leg stiff and not limp through the door as he knocked, and then walked in.

  “Sit.” West pointed to the chair and slammed the door, making the glass shudder.

  Cy winced at the sound and then eased himself down into a chair.

  “Since I pulled your sorry ass out of the fire I’ve been thinking about what I was going to say today.”

  “Yes, sir.” He hated disappointing his mentor.

  West sat a lean, hardened hip on the edge of the 50s metal desk and crossed strong arms over his barrel chest. “You heard my orders and you went against them?”

  “I did, sir.”

  “Do you know how close you came to dying?” West’s voice rose.

  “Yes sir.” Cy tried to choose his words. “But I knew there was someone alive in the house.”

  “That isn’t the point.”

  “Yes. That is the only point. I didn’t want to go against your orders, but I had to.”

  The captain breathed slowly in through his nose. “It was wrong, but you had your reasons. But why…why did you take off your flash hood and gloves? You could have been burned—you could have died, almost did,” he said, his words heated and sharp. “After all I’ve taught you, all the years you've spent here with me at this engine house. What the hell was going through your head?”

  “Captain?” Cy’s eyes met West’s. “I know you saw it too.”

  “What are you talking about?” West scuffed his foot on the industrial tile floor.

  “Stop and think back to the night of the fire. I saw the look on your face when I handed the woman to you. What did you see?”

  “Nothing,” West said through clenched teeth. “There was a lot of smoke.”

  “Sir, I’ll take my reprimand for what I did, but you have always given me the truth. Be truthful now. What did you see?”

  The captain paused for a long moment before he spoke. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like a bubble of air, or light—something.” He blew out the breath he’d been holding. “When I pulled the girl from your arms, there was a flash of blue light. When it disappeared, flames shot up around you. All I could think of was getting back. I knew the fire had taken you.”

  Both men sat silently with solemn expressions.

  Cy was the first to speak. “You asked me why I didn’t have my flash hood on? I hadn’t needed it. It was…there was no fire around her, around us. I ran out of the room, grabbing the woman when the roof collapsed. I never thought about the fact that I didn’t have my flash hood and gloves on, there hadn’t been any need for them. But when you took her from my arms, it was like an inferno hit me.”

  “I saw it. I can’t explain it, but I saw it.”

  “I know you did, Captain. It makes me feel a little better to know I’m not crazy, along with almost getting torched that night.”

  West stepped around the desk and sat heavily in the chair. “Let’s get back to the part of this conversation about you almost dying because you went against my orders.”

  “Yes, sir. As I said...”

  “I heard what you said, damn it! I’ve been in this engine house for over twenty years, and I saw you grow up here for the better part of that time.” He wrung his hands as he spoke, and looked out the window. “I have never lost one of my men. I know fate and luck play into the equation, but it’s still a fact. You have a good head on your shoulders. I can’t have my men going against my orders. Next time it could mean one of their lives, along with yours.”

  Cy nodded. “I understand if you want me to resign my position, sir.”

  “Is that what I said?” West barked out the words, causing Cy to snap his mouth closed. “Something happened that night that made you do things I don’t think you normally would have. Am I right?”

  Cy nodded.

  “And it will never happen again, right? Have I made myself clear? If it ever happens again you will be gone.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”

  ****

  His fellow firefighters tried to sound nonchalant when he finally came out of the captain’s office.

  “Hey, Cy, how’s the leg?”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Ya didn’t get canned, did ya?”

  The questions came fast as he limped past the row of men.

  “No, I didn’t get canned, but you guys are going to have a really clean truck and bathroom for a long time to come.” He picked up a large bucket and dragged the hose out of the way. Snapping the keys off the ring by the door, he moved toward the fire engine to back it out into the driveway.

  “That’s it?” Mario asked, following him.

  “What? You wanted blood? West also said if I ever did anything like that again, endangering all of your lives and going against orders, I was out on my ass. I gotta agree with him. What I did was wrong, and I think I got off easy. The really bad news is you get me as a cook for the next two months. No rotating schedule.”

  Mario smiled. “Is that punishment for you or us?”

  “That’s what I was thinking. Maybe it will force me to hone my culinary skills.”

  “Your what?”

  “Cook better.”r />
  “Oh.” Mario stepped out of the way as Cy swung the truck door open. “Do you need help with washing the truck?”

  “No.” He wanted help—his leg and foot hurt like hell, but damned if he was going to admit it. “I’ll be fine. Go watch T.V. or something.”

  “Did you hit your head? You’re never this nice.”

  “Yeah, I am. I’m always this nice, it’s just wasted on you. And if you don’t remember, I did hit my head.”

  Cy squeezed down on the nozzle and the first spray of cold water hit the fire engine’s bright red paint. Cy blew out a breath.

  It was going to be a long day.

  ****

  Cy found he couldn’t wait for Saturday. All afternoon, he’d been jittery and irritable leaving him feeling like he’d had too much coffee, from the anticipation of seeing Mia again.

  Sally had told him the basket he held in his hands was a good idea. But now that he was standing at the top of the basement stairs he was having second thoughts.

  Cy called down, “Mia? Are you there?” He wished she had a doorbell, or even a door-something to knock on so he didn’t feel like he was intruding.

  “I’m here. Come on down. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  His hip and ankle were still stiff, but he was managing to walk without the sideways limp he’d had earlier in the week.

  Mia stood by the dresser and chose a silver turquoise bracelet that she slid over her wrist.

  She was wearing a bright red, flowered cotton dress that set off her dark skin to perfection. Her ebony hair was silky and fell in straight streams cascading over her shoulders.

  As she turned, she must have caught the look on his face and looked down.

  “What? What’s wrong? If you don’t like the dress, I guess I could change it. I don’t have a lot of choices. Mickey...”

  Cy forced his eyes back to her face, “No, that’s not it. You look...great.” And she did. Amazing. He hadn’t realized what he’d been thinking reflected on his face. Her black hair was brushed to a sheen, and the strapless dress clung to curves underneath. He forced himself to stop staring, it was making her uncomfortable. But damn…