Too Near the Fire

by Lindsay McKenna

  Leah forced a weak smile. “Listen, with my track record you’re better off keeping your distance.” She didn’t mean to sound hard and brittle.

  “Let me be the judge of that,” he returned, catching the anguish in her eyes. “Mind if I pry a little about your past?” he asked softly.

  She looked away, unable to stand the compassion in his gaze. Folding her hands tightly in her lap, she muttered, “Am I that transparent?”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t give away any of your secrets. They’re safe with me.”

  “You’re scaring me, Gil. I’d swear you’re reading my mind.”

  “Just your pretty green eyes.”

  She moaned, leaning back against the seat and closing her eyes for a moment. “My God, am I that readable? What if the guys down at the station see—”

  “Listen to me, Leah. I happen to make a habit of watching eyes, and I can see and read things in them that most people haven’t taken the time to look for. No psychic ability, just plain watching on my part. Okay?”

  “I guess I have to start learning to trust someone again,” she admitted hesitantly.

  “I trusted you out there at the accident and you didn’t let me down. What we talk about between ourselves stays with us. I won’t say anything to the men at the station, I promise.”

  “You don’t know how hard it is for me to trust, Gil. Down at the academy I thought I could trust certain firemen and I found out the hard way that I couldn’t.”

  “Have you ever trusted any man?”

  The knife in her heart twisted and tears blurred her vision. “You have the damndest way of asking the right question,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “I can see the pain in your eyes. I figure you got hurt pretty bad by a man. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “And not too long ago, judging by your defensiveness.”

  She stared at him. “Isn’t anything hidden from you?” she demanded, awed by his insight.

  Gil grinned broadly. “Plenty, lady. But I’m going to enjoy making those little discoveries about you as time goes on,” he promised huskily.

  “How about my discovering a little bit about you?” she demanded, surprised at her audacity.

  He smiled. “Sure, anything you want to know.”

  Leah gave him a black look. “Must be nice to be an open book with everyone.”

  “Jealousy will get you nowhere. But don’t think I’m this way with everyone. Just certain special people.”

  She fought against the pleasure she took in his last comment. How could he be so sure that there was something special between them? It puzzled her and she lapsed into momentary silence.

  “Well?” Gil prompted. “Go ahead.”

  “I find it hard to believe you aren’t married. You’re good-looking, intelligent, and have a secure job.”

  His blue eyes sparkled. “And you’re wondering why the women aren’t knocking down the door, right?”

  “Right.”

  He shrugged. “Let’s put it this way, Leah, it takes a very special woman to fulfill certain requirements I’ve set.”

  “Such as?”

  He lost some of his merriment and drove for at least another mile before answering. “Not every woman has courage, Leah. Like I told you before, I admire that quality. I’m not looking for an aggressive, masculine type of woman. But someone who isn’t afraid to use her brains and talents.”

  Leah turned in the seat, resting her back against the door. “You’ve been married before.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Gil pursed his lips and nodded. “Yes…yes, I was,” he admitted softly.

  Leah gave him a strange look; she had the feeling that she was treading on very unstable ground with him. She couldn’t understand why any woman would divorce him. “She must have been crazy to leave you, then,” she said.

  The strained atmosphere in the cab became almost palpable. Leah felt her stomach knotting. Had she made a horrible gaffe? Anxiously, she searched his face. There was pain in his eyes as he regarded her through those thick black lashes. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “I shouldn’t have said that. I—”

  “It’s all right,” he soothed, reaching out and briefly covering her hand with his own. “It’s a pretty sad story, Leah, but I don’t mind telling you about it if you want to know.” His features were serious as he squeezed her hand.

  A pleasurable tingle fled up her arm and she was once again struck by the controlled strength of his fingers. “If you’re willing to share it with me, I would like to know.”

  “I got married when I was twenty-four, Leah. I had known Jenny two years before we decided to make a go of it. She wasn’t very happy about me doing fire fighting.”

  “Many wives aren’t,” Leah noted.

  “That was one of the things that kept us from getting married sooner,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Jenny was frail healthwise, but she had a backbone of steel.” His voice lowered. “And I didn’t realize just how much of a fighter she was until she contracted leukemia.”

  Leah gasped softly, her eyes widening. “Oh, no!”

  Gil’s lips thinned, as if he were recalling that period in his life. “That happened a long time ago,” he said. “She fought it for five years before dying.”

  She wanted to reach out and comfort him. The anguish in his voice was strong even now. “How long ago was that?”

  “Three years. On some days it seems like yesterday. On other days it seems like it happened a hundred years ago.”

  Leah felt her heart contract with pain. “I didn’t think you were the type of man to give up on a relationship,” she murmured, almost to herself.

  He managed a crooked smile. “Loyal to the end, that’s true. What about you, Leah? I think you’re too good-looking to have run around single all this time.”

  She took a deep, unsteady breath and folded her hands tightly in her lap. “I don’t have a very good track record, I’m afraid.”

  “You don’t have to tell me now, but I’d honestly like to understand your background.”

  “You mean how I developed my distrust of all men plus the chip on my shoulder?” she countered nervously. Would he understand, a voice asked? Suddenly, Leah cared a great deal what Gil thought of her. She clenched her fingers a little tighter together.

  “Let me tell you a little story,” Gil responded. “It might make you feel better about telling me about your past. I own a farm outside of town where I keep a couple of horses. I left the city life behind after Jenny died and headed for the country. I didn’t know much about horses but I’d always wanted to own some. A local horse trader found out I was looking for a pair and sold me two part Arabians. I knew I was in trouble when one of them, a gray mare, nearly tore the horse trailer apart when they unloaded her. The dealer hadn’t bothered to mention that the horse had been badly abused and was sour on people.

  “I had time on my hands because I was still grieving for Jenny. Instead of forcing the dealer to take the mare back, I decided to try and work with her. She had been badly beaten a number of times and she distrusted any man who came within fifty feet of her.” He shook his head, his voice becoming softer. “I used kindness and love to tame her down. Today she’s an outgoing mare who loves women and kids. She’s still nervous around men, but a couple years ago no one could get near her without getting kicked or bitten.” He glanced over at her. “So you see, even if you have that so-called chip on your shoulder and a distrust of men, it doesn’t scare me. You remind me of my mare, Leah. You’ve been badly hurt and you’re trying your damndest to keep your head above the pain and survive.”

  She fought back her tears. “Like I said,” she forced out, her throat constricted, “nothing seems to scare you off.”

  He grinned. “Not when I consider someone worthy of my attention and concern. So tell me, what happened back there to make you run so scared, Lady?”

  He made the admission easy. By the time they arrived in Cleve
land an hour later, she had told him of Jack and his affairs. Gil had remained quiet and attentive throughout the conversation, occasionally reaching out to touch her hand. Each time he did, the urge to cry welled up within her. They sat there in the parked truck, the sun pouring brightly into the cab. Gil roused himself.

  “You’ve made a hell of a comeback, Leah, despite some pretty long odds. You’ve got what it takes.” There was a new note of admiration in his voice.

  “I’m trying very hard not to allow my feelings for Jack to interfere with the guys at the department. Duke hates me and I find myself getting defensive and snapping back at him.” She gave him a doleful look. “That isn’t good, Gil. Duke won’t trust me out at a fire scene and I don’t trust him.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I wish you had told me this before, but it isn’t too late to start correcting the situation.”

  A lump formed in her throat. “I don’t want to cause trouble!”

  “Duke is just going to have to learn to handle his prejudice,” he said grimly, opening the door. He gave her a devastating smile.

  “Come on, pretty lady, we’ve got a pair of boots to buy for you. A pair of glass slippers for my princess.”

  Leah hesitantly allowed herself to be drawn into his sudden ebullient mood. As she walked with him toward the store, she felt another bit of the weight she had been carrying since the divorce slip free of her aching shoulders. Stealing a glance up at Gil, she tried not to examine too closely how she felt about him. They barely knew each other, and yet it seemed like they had known each other forever….

  Four

  Leah had hoped that by the time her first two months of duty had gone by there would be a change in Duke Saxon’s attitude. Unfortunately, though the other men had warmed to her, Duke remained as hostile as ever.

  She stepped into the front door of the firehouse, giving the dispatcher, Bill Colby, a warm smile. She was looking forward to seeing Gil on duty. She had noted a change in Gil’s attitude as far as she was concerned. It was as if he sensed her need to approach any new relationship slowly. Since that wonderful day in Cleveland, he had not asked her for a date.

  She made her way to the kitchen and started preparing the menu for the day, since it was her turn. She hummed to herself, realizing that she was happy. Despite Duke’s stubborn attitude, everyone at the firehouse was adjusting to having a woman fire fighter aboard. She had to admit that her performance at fire scenes had helped to cement the trust between her and the men.

  Chief Anders came hurrying by, gave her a brief nod, and resumed his pace, hands behind his back. She smiled to herself as she prepared a simple Yankee pot roast, complete with carrots, onion, and plenty of potatoes for Saxon, who seemed to live on them. After putting it in the refrigerator to be baked later in the day, she had just set about making fresh coffee when Gil ambled in. He smiled over at her.

  “You look like a regular house Frau,” he teased as he sat down at the table and spread out some paperwork before him.

  Her face was damp from working over a hot stove and tendrils of hair clung to her cheek. Leah returned the smile as she brushed the strands of hair away. “Believe it or not, I enjoy cooking.”

  “Don’t let the guys hear you say that or you’ll become a permanent fixture in here.” He motioned for her to sit down. “How’s that burn on your neck?”

  She automatically reached up, touching it carefully. Three days earlier she had received the injury at a house fire. “It stings a little, that’s all. Part of my dues for being part of the fire service.”

  “Great welcome,” he snorted, riffling through a pile of reports.

  She sat there in companionable silence with him for a few minutes before initiating a conversation. “Gil, how did you know that front door was going to blow?” she asked, referring to the incident in which she’d been burned.

  He raised his head, meeting her troubled gaze. “I saw the glass bowing outward. The windows in the other rooms weren’t as bad, so I just put two and two together. The heat from the kitchen traveled to the foyer area first. I suppose you’re kicking yourself for not noticing it?” he asked dryly.

  “Yes. I was taught to look for downed electrical wires in yards, windows bowing outward, and to approach a door from the side. Never walk up to it like I did.”

  “Ten lashes with a wet noodle.”

  “Come on, it was a bad mistake!” she flared, folding her hands tightly on the table.

  “It could have been but it wasn’t. It taught you a good lesson—you’ll never make that mistake again.”

  “You got that right,” she returned fervently, shaking her head at her own stupidity.

  “Quit being so hard on yourself. You let me worry about rating your abilities. If I say you did a good job, just say thanks.” He tapped her arm gently. “I’m finding out you have one hell of a time taking a compliment. You take an insult much easier.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “I always look a gift horse in the mouth. Particularly when it’s a man giving me the compliment.”

  “Not every male has an ulterior motive, Leah.”

  Her mouth stretched into a grin. “Oh?”

  His eyes danced with silent laughter. “Well, maybe some have positive ulterior motives instead of negative ones.”

  “I can buy that.”

  He resumed his paperwork and she got up to pull down two mugs from the pegboard behind the sink. “Want coffee?” she asked.

  “Please.”

  Leah returned to her chair, sipping the hot black liquid. It startled her how comfortable she felt around Gil. His easygoing nature had made all the difference in the world for her at the fire station. What would she have done if she hadn’t found someone like him here? Could she have endured the loneliness?

  “Here, this just came off the mimeograph,” he said, handing her a flier.

  Leah read it. “A department picnic next Sunday?”

  “Yup. The chief throws it once a year. All the fire fighters and their families get together over at the local park. It ought to be a lot of fun. There’s swimming in the lake, softball, sack races for the kids, and good food.”

  She glanced at him. “I haven’t met a male fire fighter yet who didn’t think of his stomach first.”

  Gil smiled. “Listen, lady, being a bachelor now is hell on my digestive system. I get lucky when you cook here or when one of the wives takes pity on us and brings a home-cooked meal to the station. This picnic is a chance to get some more of that good food.”

  Leah rolled her eyes. “You are so typically male!”

  He joined her laughter. “If there are any leftovers from tonight’s meal, can I take them home in a doggy bag? It’s better than pulling out another frozen dinner on my day off.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious!”

  He shrugged. “Well, it’s either that or just flat out ask you to invite me over for dinner some night.”

  “And here I was feeling sorry for you. Just an elaborate trick to get an invitation.”

  Gil rose, shuffling the finished paperwork together. “I could be cruel and invite you over to my house for beans and wieners. Then you’d make sure to invite me for dinner next time.”

  A new joyous feeling enveloped her as she sat looking up at him. He had such a mobile, expressive face when he allowed that official mask to drop away. Leah held his gaze.

  “Well?” he prodded.

  “What?”

  “Do I get the invitation?”

  “Why don’t you reserve your options until after this meal,” she teased. “Like Duke says, I could poison you all.”

  “Apache does a good job of that,” he countered with feeling. “I for one am glad to see a woman in the kitchen here. At least we eat decently when you draw the low card in the deck.”

  She stood and pushed her chair back up to the table. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to try and rig the deck to make sure I cook most of the time?”

  He t
ossed a smile over his shoulder as he walked out. “I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

  “Bet me,” she said under her breath, smiling.

  * * *

  Near six p.m. the men ambled into the kitchen, as if some silent cue for dinner had been given. The pot roast smelled delicious as she took it out of the oven. Apache came near, looking over her shoulder as she spooned the tender potatoes, carrots, celery and onions into another bowl.

  “Damn, that smells good!”

  She felt her hopes rise. Gil sauntered in and drew out a chair for her. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed, but no one was saying anything. Tonight the fire fighters were interested in getting their fair share of the food.

  Afterward she served chocolate cake and freshly brewed coffee. Apache’s eyes fairly danced with satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach.

  “Man, that was outstanding.”

  Duke shot a black look in his direction. “Anything’s better than your cooking,” he growled.

  Leah’s stomach began to knot and she lowered her gaze, feeling the tension returning once again.

  “You’re like a damn garbage dump, Saxon,” Apache reported. “I don’t think you taste the food you gulp down.”

  Wilson snickered. “That’s why he’s growing a pot belly. If you didn’t like the cookin’, Duke, why’d you make such a pig of yourself?”

  “Aw, cram it,” he growled as he got to his feet, his chair scraping noisily against the linoleum floor.

  “Duke, didn’t you have the next lowest card?” Gil asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You get to clean up, then.”

  Belligerently, Saxon placed his hands on his hips. “I ain’t cleaning up after any woman.”

  Gil met his angry gaze coolly. “You will this one,” he answered.

  Apache grinned, slapping Saxon on the shoulder as he walked toward the television. “What’s the matter, gotta eat humble pie?”

  Gil rose. “You can help him too, Apache.”

  The Italian turned, a startled look on his face. “Aw, come on, dammit, I was only teasing!”

  “Fine, put your money where your mouth is, then,” Gil ordered.