Rescue and Redemption: Park City Firefighter Romance

by Daniel Banner

  “Oh,” said Night, pulling his hand back. “Sorry. Hey, it’s game time. Wait there in the café for fifteen minutes where it’s warm. In exactly fifteen minutes, come out this door, not the other exit, and walk north along the sidewalk.”

  “That’s it?” asked Mercy.

  Night smiled a confident, playful smile. Man how she loved his large features and strong look. And those lips, so luscious. “Just be ready.”

  Resisting the urge to leave him with a quick kiss and confuse him even more, she climbed out of the car.

  “Don’t forget these,” said Night, handing over a large pair of dark sunglasses.

  The temperature was close to freezing outside, but even in a sleeveless leather jacket, Mercy was warm with the prospect of adventure. The heater in her car didn’t hurt either. It had been forever since she’d gotten out of her warm car in the winter.

  Mercy sat in the corner of the crowded café watching everything around her, but not getting any clues about what the plan was. Exactly fifteen minutes after being given the instructions, Mercy put the glasses on and walked out onto the Main Street sidewalk.

  “This way,” said a huge man wearing a black blazer with black pants and a black t-shirt. He motioned to the north, which was the direction she was supposed to go anyway, so Mercy started that direction.

  Why was his face familiar? She’d seen him recently, but he hadn’t been dressed as a … as an assassin? Nope, not an assassin, but that was as close as she could guess.

  Mercy glanced over her shoulder at where he walked just behind her and to the right. It was the guy on Night’s crew! The captain. Looking so intimidating no one would mess with Mercy.

  That was it. She knew the game. Her nose went a little higher into the air, and instead of being careful to avoid other pedestrians, she claimed a straight line on the sidewalk and walked it with a purpose. The big bodyguard stayed close enough at her shoulder that she could sense his presence.

  People gave her the path, stepping to the side, and often turning their head to peer after her.

  “No way!” said someone stepping around a group of hipster college kids. It was Night, and his mouth was hanging open. “I can’t believe it! Can I take a quick selfie?”

  All eyes in hearing range turned toward them.

  Mercy bit the inside of her bottom lip to keep from cracking up. She didn’t answer, just primped her hair with one hand, and turned at an angle to where his camera was raised as if it was an every day event for her.

  “This is so freaking cool,” said Night as he positioned the camera. “My buddies are going to die. Okay, on three—one, two, three.” He tapped the camera and it snapped a selfie. “We all have tickets to your movie Tuesday. Are you going to be there?”

  As people on the sidewalk paid attention it just drew more attention from a wider circle of festival-goers.

  “Of course,” said Mercy, going for approachable yet above Night and everyone else.

  “Awesome!” said JFK. “Thanks for the pic, the guys would never believe I met you without it.”

  People on the sidewalk were poised to swarm her, but they just weren’t convinced. Even with the adoring fan and the bodyguard. Night had tried but it wasn’t quite enough to start an avalanche down the mountain.

  With a patronizing smile and nod for Night, and ignoring her bodyguard, Mercy took a step to continue her way up the sidewalk. It had been so close; she could feel the people dying to get their own selfies. But none of them were brave enough.

  A blonde, model-tall woman who was coming the opposite direction, stopped directly in front of Mercy. “What are the odds?” she said in an exotic European accent and leaned forward to air-kiss each of Mercy’s cheeks. “I heard you weren’t arriving until tomorrow.”

  It was Sage, the captain’s gorgeous wife, but her burlap looking scarf and fedora and air-kissing was too much. No one would buy such an obvious—

  Starting with the half-dozen hipsters, the sidewalk crowd closed in, forming a group that was part line, part circle.

  “I flew in yesterday,” said Mercy. “Been checking out the local scene.”

  “Have you seen Robert yet?” asked Sage.

  Robert Redford? Really? But hey, go big or go home, right? “He had me down to the resort this morning.”

  “I just love him,” said Sage. “Can’t wait to see you at the premier.” She leaned forward to repeat the air kisses, and this time Mercy joined in.

  One of the hipsters, a guy with square glasses and a curly mustache took a tentative step forward and asked, “Can we get a pic with both of you real quick?”

  “I have to run,” said Sage. “I’m already late for Dennis’ afterparty.” With a wink at Mercy’s bodyguard, she dashed off.

  The hipster tentatively held up a Polaroid camera questioningly. Mercy spread her arms and him and his friends squeezed into a tight group as he handed off the camera to a nearby couple. Mercy made rock hands, and hoped she didn’t look like she was trying to shoot webs out of her wrists. Behind her she heard a woman ask someone quietly who she was, but she couldn’t hear the answer. She didn’t resemble any famous actor that she knew of, but apparently Night thought she had the look. That made her warm all over. The flash went off and the hipsters turned to face Mercy, thanking her.

  The curly-mustache guy got his Polaroid and pulled off the pic after it was ejected. Mercy took a step forward and held out her hands, into which he excitedly put his camera. She turned it around to face herself and the guys crammed in behind her. Sticking out her tongue, she hit the button and went night blind as the flash lit her and her new friends.

  “Enjoy the films, boys,” Mercy said handing back the camera.

  The camera was no sooner out of her hands, than a teenage couple stepped up. “Can we get one too?”

  Mercy nodded, keeping her excitement from manifesting in her smile. It was important that everyone think she did this every day. At any moment someone would ask who she was, and she had no answer, but the camera was pointed at her so she made a quick kissy face, hoping it didn’t look like duck lips. Mercy never had and never would do duck lips.

  Just as she had with the hipsters, Mercy took the camera, but this time, pointed it down. She crossed one leg in front of the other like she was on the yellow brick road and the teens copied her. The photo didn’t turn out too bad.

  The next person to step up was a middle-aged bald man in a biker’s jacket. A twenty-something woman in a short dress and fur coat—faux fur to be sure, since this was Sundance—held his camera. Mercy turned to the camera, scowled her toughest scowl, and flexed her left arm. Not that her biceps were impressive, but the tattoos made up for her wimpiness.

  There was Night, at the edge of the crowd, holding up his camera and catching everything on video. Others held up phones too, some snapping away, and some probably live streaming. Well, she better give Night and the rest of her adoring fans a show. After the flex pic had been captured, Mercy put both hands on top of the biker’s head and pulled him down to plant a kiss square on the top of his bald head. The gathered crowd loved it.

  When the woman came forward to hand off the camera, Mercy took it with one hand, put the man in a headlock with her free hand, and took a selfie of her face and the perfect dark red lip mark on his head.

  The faux fur woman and her friend were next, then a couple in formal dress who were probably the same age as Mercy’s parents.

  Another group of college boys stepped up and the first one handed her a sharpie. “Will you sign my forearm?” He turned his forearm up to expose the hairless underside, and Mercy scribbled Night Mercy as illegibly as possible. The boy was giddy.

  “Don’t do anything stupid and have that tattooed, okay?”

  “I promise,” he said, staring down at the temporary ink on his arm. “That’s so sick.”

  As Mercy obliged her fans, more fans gathered. Each fan who came forward to get their pics or signature then walk excitedly away, was replaced by two fans
.

  Dozens of people came and went, and not a single one asked who she was or what she was starring in. Night just stood back, capturing it all on his phone, and smirking like he was glad he wasn’t the one at the center of attention.

  After about twenty minutes of mingling and concentrating on not doing duck face, Mercy saw her fake bodyguard pull out his phone and speak into it for about four seconds, then slide it back inside his blazer. As yet another group of college aged girls stepped away, Quad C held out a hand to the next girl before she could approach Mercy. He leaned close and muttered unintelligibly into Mercy’s ear.

  “Thank you,” called Mercy waving in a circle as she started walking north again, but not looking at anyone. “Film fans are the best in the world!”

  Two separate people held out Sharpies as she walked by, but Mercy adjusted her sunglasses and breezed past. People still watched her, but the crowd had respected her fleeing—or her bodyguard with muscles bulging out of his sport coat. Mouth dry and armpits wet, even in the cold night, Mercy breathed a giant sigh of relief that no one had called her bluff.

  The pleased smile on her face was too authentic to be a true celebrity-smile, but she couldn’t help herself. It had been far too long since she’d done something so spontaneous and risky. Not that she was in any physical danger, but the world of adults had so many rules that Mercy walked on a very fine line. She routinely balked against many of the inane niceties of adulthood, but as a job-seeker she had to fall into expected norms more often than she cared to.

  Oh how she needed this night to let loose and throw caution to the wind, and Night had done it all without the threat of even a drop of alcohol. Mercy was high on natural endorphins, and couldn’t wait to find him and crack up.

  Speaking of that, she had no idea where she was going.

  At the next intersection, Quad C directed her to take a left turn onto a quieter side street. When she went around the corner she left nearly all of the inquisitive eyes behind. The dome lights flipped on inside of a big pickup that was double parked and she saw Sage behind the wheel, no longer wearing the scarf and fedora. Mercy darted between cars parked on the side of the street and let Quad C pull the rear door open for her.

  What a night, what a complete day. The best she’d hoped for from the day was to line up a part-time job, but thanks to her knight, it had turned into one of the most memorable 24 hours of her life.

  They circled the block, then pulled over to let Night in. Sage and Quad C swapped places.

  “That was epic,” squealed Mercy. “For a minute there I didn’t think it would work, but then Sage came out of nowhere and next thing I know a hundred people wanted a pic with me. I don’t blame them, I thought she was a movie star at first too. And now I’m rambling.”

  Night looked deeply satisfied. Mercy unclicked her seatbelt and slid over to give him a hug. He tensed again when her arms went around him, and she was able to feel the power that lay under a thin layer of body fat. Yeah, maybe she’d ruined it earlier by pushing him away, but she couldn’t help herself now with the excitement bubbling up. Anxious to break him of his flinchy habit, she stayed in the center seat.

  Sage was turned around to face them. “You were perfect!” Reaching out to rub Quad C’s shoulder, she said, “Of course your super studly bodyguard helped.”

  “Get a room, you two,” said Night. “Or at least let us out before you jump all over each other.”

  Quad C pulled over again, and Mercy saw her car parked on the side of the street.

  “Thanks, you two,” said Night to his friends in the front seat. “For a pregnant lady and a guy with no sense of humor, you two were awesome.”

  “Wow,” said Quad C. “That left-handed compliment almost sounded like gratitude.”

  Night paused like he had the perfect comeback, but simply said, “You guys are the best.” Then he climbed out, and held the door open.

  As she slid over, Mercy said, “If either of you ever want to be famous, let me know. I’ll be your biggest fan.”

  The night was cold, and now that the adrenaline had faded, Mercy rubbed her arms as she stepped to the passenger side of her car. Hopefully, Night would notice her freezing and put an arm around her for the few seconds it took to get there.

  Whether he didn’t want physical contact, or was put off by her earlier rejection, or he just didn’t realize he was supposed to keep a girl warm, he kept his hands to himself. How gentlemanly, thought Mercy, mentally rolling her eyes. Her reaction to the kiss earlier was going to haunt her until she had a chance to explain herself.

  Like a pro, Night got her door and helped her in, then hurried around and started the car. “The heater’ll take a minute.”

  Mercy said, “That was as much fun as it’s legal to have in Summit County.” It was another one of Granny Jewell’s sayings. “What an adventure.”

  “Glad you liked it.” Night pulled out and seemed to avoid looking at her.

  Unable to take praise once again. “You willing to try an adventure with me?”

  “Tonight?” asked Night.

  “Tomorrow. But wait, adventure is a very misleading word in this case.”

  “I’m in,” he stated quickly.

  “I shouldn’t have said ‘adventure’. It actually might be really boring. Let me just tell you instead of dancing around it because I’ve already built it up. It’s—”

  Night held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. Even if it’s going to the DMV to watch you stand in line, I’m still in.”

  He seemed to like her, and had gone through so much trouble for her. Any of the guys she’d ever dated would be trying to get her naked by now. Yeah, he’d laid a big fat kiss on her, one that she wanted more of eventually, and she couldn’t explain to him why she’d pushed him away, but she knew he was different than most guys. It was one of the things she loved about him. She just hoped it kept being different in a good way.

  “DMV isn’t open on Sunday,” she said. “But the place we’re going is.” Why had she called it an adventure? He would probably freak when he found out what she had planned.

  It would be a test for sure. Hopefully it wasn’t too soon for that.

  Chapter

  JFK stuck two fingers under his collar and sucked in a breath. Even though it was January in Park City, he was sweating worse than he did in his turnout gear during the last fire he’d been in. He’d rather make entry into a 500 degree basement again than go into the torture chamber where Mercy was dragging him. He stared up at the building in front of his parked truck. A few people in dresses and ties and stuff hurried in.

  From the passenger seat of his truck, Mercy said, “You’re kidding me that you’ve never been to church, right?”

  “I’m as serious as a boy named Sue,” he told her, not cracking a smile in the slightest. The collar grew even tighter and JFK had to undo the top button and loosen his tie. “If I go in there I’m pretty sure the roof is going to come down and crush me.”

  Mercy smiled. “I’m sorry, but I think that’s so cute. You look like a boy about to ask a girl out for the first time.”

  Cute. That was perfect. On top of being nervous enough to ring water out of his armpits, he was cute. He really liked Mercy. Probably even enough to go into the church. If he’d had more time to prepare, JFK would have tried to set up a special training session with Dom on church manners, but she’d sprung it on him too quickly and he was likely to fall on his face as hard as he had at the awards ceremony.

  “C’mon, tough guy,” she told him. “I’ll hold your hand.”

  That sounded nice. Maybe even worth it. Grudgingly he pushed his door open, relishing the cold breeze on his overheating face. As usual, Mercy gave him time to make it around the truck to get her door. He offered a hand and averted his eyes even though that felt strange because if she somehow took a tumble out of the truck, JFK would have no way to know she was falling until it was too late. With manners, it often seemed that the least intuitive thing was what he shoul
d do. Once Mercy was down on solid ground, she kept a hold of his hand.

  JFK loved the feel of her fingers entwined with his, but was self-conscious of his fat, clumsy hands when hers were so lithe and confident. But he wasn’t about to let go, especially when he needed her support so badly. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous.

  The church appeared to be Type 4 construction—heavy timber. Sometimes timbers were just used as ornamentation to make lightweight construction appear more solid or aesthetically pleasing. Before walking under the large covered entryway, JFK paused. It looked sturdy enough, even with a foot or two of snow piled on it. Only an act of God would bring it down on top on them, which was exactly what JFK feared. He wasn’t the church-going type or even the type who God would even want hanging around in his house.

  A family of four rushed past JFK and Mercy and into the building. The service was due to start in a minute or two. Surely God wouldn’t bring down a building on top of a bunch of good Christian people just to prove a point. Of course, nothing was stopping one single beam to come down directly on JFK’s unworthy head and turn him into a flat example of a bad person trying to pretend to be good. If Hollywood was even partially accurate, the Old Testament God had done worse to people who offended him.

  JFK was ready for Mercy to start making fun of him, or ask why he was being such a baby.

  She squeezed his hand and said, “I know it’s hard, Tarzan.”

  Wait, what? “Tarzan?”

  Mercy shrugged. “Night didn’t really stick, so I’m trying some new ones.”

  “Why Tarzan?” It had come out of nowhere and it was so ridiculous it made him chuckle.

  “I’ll tell you later, but we’re going to be late.”

  “So we’re still going in?”

  “Yes. Remember, I had to come back after everyone knew I was an alcoholic and a thief and a liar. Some people in my own family still don’t believe I’ve really changed. A couple of them are here today.” She looked at the front doors and let out a breath. “More often than not I have to force myself to go through those doors.”