by Marta Perry
She waved toward her vehicle, and the driver started toward them. Another paramedic was already headed their way, trundling a stretcher over the extended hoses.
Terry’s gaze met her brother’s. “Looks like you’re in charge.”
Could everyone see the reluctance in Seth’s eyes, or just Julie? The emotion passed in an instant, but she thought she knew what had put it there. He didn’t want to send his friends into danger. But he had to.
“Take good care of him.” He picked up O’Malley’s radio and straightened. “Okay, people. We’ve got a fire to fight.”
She probably ought to move farther away, but she couldn’t seem to make her feet carry her. At least Seth wasn’t going back into the flames.
Dave Hanratty took the front position on the hose, with Ryan right behind him. They moved up what was left of the porch stairs, a line of humans waging war against a fire-breathing dragon.
Seth raised the radio. “Go.”
Seth was doing his job, no matter his reservations. She should do hers. She lifted the camera, trying to capture the moment. Trying not to think about the people she’d come to know and care about in such a short time.
Seth’s radio crackled intermittently as she took shot after shot. He was communicating with the men as they moved through the building, coordinating his own crew with one that had gone in the back. His voice was terse but perfectly calm.
Did he realize what a good leader he was? Everyone respected him. Liked him. That respect and liking would carry them along with what he said. Despite how little she knew about firefighting, she understood how important that was when people’s lives depended on a split-second decision.
But it had to take a toll on that leader. Seth might sound as if he was only directing a drill, but his hand gripped the radio so tightly that his fingers looked bloodless.
What would happen to him if he made a mistake when other people’s lives were in the balance? Her heart cramped at the thought.
Guide his thoughts, Father. Let him feel the reassurance of Your presence.
All that was left was the clean-up. Seth pushed back his helmet for a moment to wipe his forehead and then settled it into place. It didn’t pay to relax until they were all safely in the firehouse. People got hurt by letting their guard down too soon.
He did an automatic visual check of each member of his crew. Everyone seemed okay, but he knew only too well their tendency to make light of an injury.
Terry was standing with Julie, watching. That gave him a good excuse to go over to them. Not that he needed an excuse. He was responsible for Julie, after all.
He hadn’t thought about her while the fight went on. Every ounce of concentration had been focused on doing the job.
Still, at some level he’d known she was there. Maybe he didn’t want to look too closely at that.
“How’s O’Malley?”
Terry smiled. “Not bad. He’s grumbling that he’s being held against his will. He wants to come back and critique every move you made.”
She wouldn’t be that relaxed unless O’Malley really was okay. The knot of tension inside him eased.
“He’ll find something wrong, you can bet on that. So what happened to him?”
“It looks like a virus. Naturally he didn’t admit he wasn’t feeling up to par. They’re going to keep him overnight to be on the safe side.” She nudged Julie. “I told him he owes Julie a steak for keeping his pretty face intact.”
That gave him a good reason to inspect Julie with the same care he’d given the men. She looked okay, but her green eyes were shadowed.
“You okay?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“I’m all right.” She managed a smile, but it seemed to take an effort.
Terry glanced from him to Julie. “Well, I’m headed back. I’ll stop at the hospital and check on O’Malley again before the party.”
He watched his sister walk away and then turned back to Julie. She was still looking at him gravely. Differently.
The guys did, too. He’d seen that already. He’d been in charge, at least for a while. That made a difference—whether for good or bad, he couldn’t tell yet.
“Are you sure you’re okay? The real thing can be pretty overwhelming your first time.”
Some of the tension eased in her face. “Do you remember your first fire?”
“Sure thing. I had Dad and Gabe watching my every move, and I felt like I had two left feet. It’s a wonder I didn’t fall over the hose.”
“Obviously you got over that.”
He shrugged. “Everyone does, with experience. That, or they don’t last.”
“I guess if you didn’t measure up, it would be best to know that right away.”
“I’d hate to see someone walk away without giving himself or herself a fair chance. Just like I’d hate to see anyone get too confident.”
Julie glanced toward the smoldering rubble. “I can’t imagine getting overconfident about fighting that.”
“It happens, and it’s dangerous. No two fires are ever the same.” He nodded toward the shell of the building. “We didn’t save much, but those old wooden floors burn like kindling.”
“You did a good job. You put the fire out and no one got hurt.”
“I guess that’s the definition of a success.”
But he hadn’t been kidding about O’Malley finding something wrong. Success or not, the battalion chief would analyze Seth’s every step, looking for errors. That was the price of being in charge.
There was a smear of dirt on Julie’s cheek. He gave in to the temptation to brush it away, but only succeeded in making it worse.
“Sorry.” He looked at his grimy hands. “Guess I’m due for a hot shower, and we’d better get a move on.” He smiled at her. “Don’t forget, we’ve got a party tonight.”
She blinked. “Davy’s birthday. How can you possibly manage it? I’d think you’d want to sleep for a week after this.”
“Fighting fire is a job. No matter what you do, you have to leave your work behind when you go home to your family.”
“Can you do that?” Her eyes held an intensity he didn’t understand. “Can you just turn it off for Davy’s sake?”
He’d shrug off the question from anyone else, but Julie really seemed to care. She’d moved far enough into their lives that she deserved an honest answer.
“Not always.” That was honest, at least. “But I can talk about it with my family. They understand. And Davy will grow up with it, the way all of us did.”
“It probably doesn’t work that way for everyone.”
“No. Sometimes the spouse has problems with the job. That makes it rough.” His thoughts flickered to Lisa, who’d always had problems with it.
“I guess it would,” she said slowly. “When that happens, I should think either the job or the marriage would have to go.”
He ignored the familiar flicker of pain at the thought. Even if he’d been a plumber, that probably wouldn’t have changed things between him and Lisa.
“That happens.” He shook his head. “Look, you wanted to know how dangerous the job is. The truth is, it can be dangerous. You can do everything right, follow every rule, and still somebody gets hurt.”
Was he arguing with her or with his memory of Lisa? He wasn’t sure. He just wanted to make her understand.
“You’re saying people learn to live with that.” She sounded skeptical.
“I’m saying firefighting is what we live for. I don’t think I can analyze it any better than that.”
Did she get it? Probably not. Probably only someone who lived with firefighting could really understand.
Well, that didn’t matter. A wave of annoyance swept over him. Julie would be gone from his life in a few days, and what she thought shouldn’t matter at all. And maybe if he kept telling himself that, he’d believe it.
“You guys going to stand around and talk all day, or you going back to the station?” Dave’s grin split his soot-blackened face. He gestu
red with the pry bar he carried. “Everything’s cleaned up, Cap.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Dave let out a hoot of laughter and pounded Seth’s back so hard he nearly staggered.
“Not a bad job for your first time in charge. Not bad at all. Come on, let’s go.”
He tried to hide his grin from Julie. He probably didn’t succeed.
She smiled, her green eyes warm with what might have been approval. “Looks like the team thinks you did all right.”
“Maybe so.”
That was the important thing, he told himself. Not that the warmth of Julie’s smile made him feel as if he’d do just about anything to see it again.
Julie still wasn’t sure how the Flanagans could make the switch from putting their lives on the line to running a child’s birthday party, but here they all were, in various stages of relaxation around the comfortably shabby living room. She stood in the archway, watching as Seth and his father did what appeared to be a play-by-play of the day’s fire.
Well, not everyone was relaxing. Davy and his cousins raced through the house, into the kitchen, around through the living room and back again. Sooner or later, she feared, Davy would crash into a doorway trying to keep up with the older ones.
“Relax.” Siobhan paused next to her in the archway. “Davy may bump himself, but he’s a tough little lad.”
“How did you know that’s what I was thinking?” She must be transparent to the woman.
Siobhan gave a soft chuckle. “I’ve seen that worried look before. Worn it myself, often enough, when my hooligans were doing their best to turn their mother’s hair gray.”
For a moment she felt confused. Siobhan almost sounded as if she had a right to be worried about Davy. Maybe a change of subject was in order.
“I don’t know how they do it.” She nodded toward the group around the fireplace. Ryan now seemed to be giving his version of the fire, making them laugh. “Go out and put their lives on at risk and then come home and have a normal life.”
It wasn’t fair to Davy. The thought shot up in her like a flame. What if something happened to Seth? She’d seen for herself how dangerous their work could be.
“Well, they’re used to it.” Siobhan’s clear eyes clouded. “It’s worse for those waiting at home, I can tell you. They’re so caught up in the adrenaline that they don’t think about the danger.”
“But you do,” Julie said softly. “How do you take it, having all of them involved in something so risky?”
Siobhan clasped her hands together. “Praying helps. You can’t live your life dominated by fear, you know.”
“‘For the Lord has not given us a spirit of fear—’” The verse she relied on so often herself came to her lips.
“That’s it exactly.”
“Does it ever get easier?” It ought to seem strange, talking so personally with Davy’s grandmother, but it felt as natural as breathing.
“No.” Siobhan’s reply was quick, and then she smiled. “But that’s all right. When you love someone, you want him to have the life he’s born to have. That’s how I get through it.”
The words seemed to set up an echo in her heart. The life he was born to have. Davy already had that, didn’t he?
“What secrets are you two exchanging?” Seth’s voice startled her. He leaned against the archway, looking at them with raised brows.
Siobhan patted his cheek. “If we told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?”
“Now you’ve really got me worried.” He assumed an expression of mock terror. “As if this party wasn’t already enough to terrify any sensible man.”
“Maybe we’d better get on to the present opening.” Siobhan collared one of the small red-haired figures that hurtled past. “That should keep them occupied until supper’s ready.”
“Pizza, peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches, cake and ice cream.” Seth smiled at Julie. “Think your stomach can hold up?”
She shuddered. “I assume Davy picked the menu.”
“Sure. Mom always let us pick what we wanted for our birthday. The only really bad time was when Terry was a vegetarian for about a minute and a half. She made us all eat tofu.” He swung Davy up into his arms. “Come on, big guy. Time for presents.”
Davy was clearly too excited to sit in a chair and open his gifts. He ran from one package to another, ripping the paper, and his two cousins tore what he didn’t.
No one criticized them, or suggested that this wasn’t proper behavior. The adults seemed to enjoy it as much as the kids, oohing and aahing over each gift Davy pulled out.
She didn’t remember anything remotely similar from her own childhood. Presents were to be opened sedately, with proper expressions of appreciation. When she was old enough, she’d been required to write her thank-you notes before using or wearing any gift. No one had ever crawled, laughing, through a storm of wrapping paper the way Seth was doing.
She was suddenly lonely. Out of place, as if she pressed her nose against a window pane, looking at what she couldn’t have. What she’d never had.
Every person in this room loved Davy. Her throat closed. Including her, but he’d never know that. Everyone loved him. They gave him enough love to make up for anything else that might come his way.
She could never give him anything that would match that. Siobhan had been right. If you loved someone, you let him have the life he was born to lead. This was Davy’s life. She had no part in it.
Seth stood, shedding paper, and crossed to her.
“Everything okay? You look a little down. Or is the decibel level getting to you?”
She tried to smile. “It’s about the same as the fire siren, isn’t it?”
He nodded, his eyes still questioning, as if he saw through that to her heart.
“Hey, Davy, here’s another one.” Terry shoved a package toward Davy, looking at the card. “It’s from Julie.”
“You didn’t need to bring him something,” Seth said.
Yes, I did. But she couldn’t say that.
“I wanted to.”
Davy ripped the paper, exposing the bright blue engine on the package. “A train, a train!” he shouted, eyes as bright as the engine. “Wow, thank you.”
Davy had greeted every gift with “Wow, thank you,” even a pair of pajamas. But he did seem genuinely pleased with the train. The clerk at the toy store had assured her it was just the thing for a three-year-old boy.
Seth looked a little stunned. “That’s quite a gift. Really, you—”
“I hope it’s okay.” She said it quickly, not wanting to hear him say that she shouldn’t have. Of course she’d spent more than a casual acquaintance should, but she couldn’t help herself. “I can exchange it, if he’d rather have something else.”
Seth’s hand closed over hers. “Not at all. It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Open it, Daddy. Set up the train.” Davy pulled at the package.
“Davy, I think Grammy has supper almost ready. We can wait until after we eat.”
Davy’s eyes clouded with tears. “No, no.” He stamped his foot. “Want it now.”
Julie tensed, waiting for a reprimand. If she’d given him something that would spoil his birthday—
Siobhan got up. “Well, of course you want it now, sweetheart. Daddy and Julie will help you open the train.” She glanced at the others. “The rest of you can help get the food on. Maybe by then Davy will be ready to eat, though I doubt it.”
“I’m sorry.” She said it softly, her words covered by the movement of the rest of the family toward the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to mess up the schedule.”
Seth’s fingers tightened around hers. “Julie, relax. There’s no schedule.”
“But your mother has supper ready.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s Davy’s birthday. If he wants to open his train, that’s what he’ll do.” He tugged at her hand. “Come on. You gave it to him, so you get to help set it up, like it or not.”
; They sat on the floor next to Davy, and Seth produced a pocket knife to open the package. Davy leaned against her knee, bombarding her with information about the train that she could barely understand.
She ventured to put her arm around him, feeling the sturdy little body against her. Her heart swelled until she thought it would burst from her body. She loved him so. And she had to walk out of his life.
Maybe, someday, it would be safe to tell them who she was. Eventually she’d be able to make sure that Davy had his share of her father’s estate.
But by then it would be too late to gain his love. To share his childhood. This moment would have to do.
Seth pulled a bundle of tracks from the box. Davy pounced on them and quickly began fitting them together.
“Julie?” Seth’s voice was questioning. He leaned toward her across the sea of wrapping paper. “Is everything all right? You look sad.”
She tried to smile. She couldn’t let him know how deeply she felt this.
“I’m okay. It’s just been a much more exciting day than I’m used to.”
He reached out, a little tentatively, to touch her cheek. The warmth from that touch went straight to her heart.
Davy was making vrooming noises as he tried to run the engine on the track. Her heart seemed to be making the same sound.
Seth’s eyes met hers. She couldn’t look away. She couldn’t pull her barricades into place. He probably saw how much she’d begun to care, and she couldn’t do anything about that.
“Julie.” He said her name softly, fingers caressing her cheek. “You—”
“Pizza!” Mary Kate’s little boy shouted from the archway, jumping up and down. “Pizza, pizza.”
Seth sat back on his heels, and for just a moment he looked as if he’d been hit by something. Then he grinned. “I guess that means the pizza is ready.”
Chapter Eight
“You didn’t have to help clean up, Julie.” Siobhan turned from the sink, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. “Although I have to say I appreciate it, since everyone else seemed to have better things to do.”