by Lynn LaFleur
“Too hot,” Marcus replied with a frown.
“It’s July in Texas,” Stephen said after taking a sip of his beer. “It’s supposed to be hot.”
Nick turned his head toward Marcus. “The breeze helps.”
“The breeze is hot, too.” Marcus released a heavy sigh. “Why are y’all bugging me?”
Stephen nudged Marcus in the ribs. “We couldn’t let you watch the fireworks all alone.”
“Shouldn’t you be with Julia?” Marcus looked at Nick. “And you’re a newlywed. Where’s Keely?”
“Both our ladies are helping with the food.” Nick turned his billed cap backward on his head. “Looks like you’re stuck with us.”
“Yippee.”
Stephen leaned forward to look at Nick. “He’s grouchy tonight.”
“Yeah, even more than usual.”
Marcus had had enough. He wanted to be alone, not in the middle of a “bro” sandwich. “Okay, what the fuck do y’all want?”
“We know what today is, Marcus,” Stephen said, all traces of humor gone from his voice. He laid his hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “We just want you to know we’re here if you need us.”
Marcus’s throat tightened and his eyes burned. He wouldn’t fall apart. Not in front of his friends. Tears could come later when he sat alone in his house, not out in public. He gave a quick nod to let them know he understood.
Stephen squeezed Marcus’s shoulder. “I want another helping of Mrs. Hurley’s peach cobbler. How about you?”
A hint of a smile worked its way to Marcus’s lips. “She does make the best peach cobbler in town.”
“That she does.” Stephen jerked his head toward the fire hall, where all the food had been set up on tables outside the large building. “C’mon. I’ll buy you another beer.”
Despite the horrible memories of this day and what happened five years ago, his friends made him feel better. A real smile turned up his lips. “You’re on.”
“Hey, Marcus.” Paige Denslow smiled at him with a “come hither” bat of her eyelashes. “What can I do for you?”
Marcus ignored Nick’s snicker at the double entendre. Paige had made it very clear she wanted to date him. At six years his junior, he didn’t consider them close enough in age to have anything in common. Except for maybe sex. He had no doubt she would be willing to share his bed. If Marcus felt any desire for her at all, he’d take her up on her numerous offers. The fact that a gorgeous, well-built woman with long blond hair and hazel eyes didn’t turn him on meant some parts of his brain didn’t fire the way they should.
“Any more of Mrs. Hurley’s peach cobbler?” he finally asked her.
“Sure. She brought two huge pans of it.” Her gaze passed to Stephen and Nick. “Y’all want some, too?”
“Yeah,” Nick said, his stare fastened on Keely standing next to Paige. “And a kiss from my wife.”
A lovely blush spread over Keely’s cheeks. She leaned over the table and met Nick halfway for a gentle kiss. They’d married one month ago today and still had that newlywed air around them. A yearning clutched Marcus’s heart, the desire to have the same kind of happiness.
He’d been in love and happy once … until his wife left him.
Pushing aside thoughts of Rayna, Marcus accepted the paper bowl of cobbler from Paige. She gave him another smile. “Enjoy.”
Marcus returned her smile. “Thanks.” Even though he didn’t desire her, he could still be friendly. It made working together on the volunteer fire department much easier.
He turned away from the lovely blonde and found Stephen talking to Julia Woods next to the ice chests of drinks. Two large glass jars with slits in the lids sat in front of her, each bearing a label that read Water or Cokes $1.00, Beer $2.00. The honor system had worked well for drinks for years. The fire department threw barbecues and fish fries several times a year as fund-raisers. People often paid more than requested for the food and drinks to help out a service everyone in Lanville appreciated.
As a captain with access to the accounting records, he knew exactly how finances stood for the department. Whatever they took in from tonight would go toward the new tanker-truck fund. What they already had, plus what they’d make on the firefighters calendar that would come out in September, should push them over the top so they could order their truck.
Thank God he’d managed to avoid posing for the calendar. His fire chief’s girlfriend, Maysen Halliday, had even begged him, but he’d refused. He’d help however he could to raise money for his department, but he’d drawn the line at posing shirtless with some of the other firefighters. Luckily, with twenty-four men and three women in the department, Maysen had had plenty of others to photograph.
Stephen slipped a five-dollar bill into one of the jars and took two cans of beer from a cooler. After kissing Julia’s cheek, he turned toward Marcus and held out one of the cans to him. “Let’s find a place to enjoy the fireworks.”
Marcus swallowed his last bite of cobbler and accepted the can. He appreciated his friends’ caring, but he believed a fireworks show should be enjoyed with a loved one. “Thanks, man, but watch it with Julia.” Nick walked up to them, so Marcus turned to him. “And you watch with Keely. I was down for a bit, but I’m fine now.”
Stephen didn’t look convinced. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He tossed his bowl and plastic spoon into a nearby trash can. “Go be with your ladies.”
Before either Nick or Stephen responded, the pagers attached to all three men’s belts gave off loud beeps. Marcus unclipped his and looked at it. “Two beeps. Grass fire.”
All around the trio, other firefighters’ pagers sounded with the same alarm. Being the closest to the fire hall’s entrance, Marcus shouted out, “Let’s go!” and ran into the building.
Clay Spencer, their fire chief, stood inside the door. Marcus waved for the firefighters to be quiet so the chief could speak. “Grass fire on County Road 2221. Bad one. It’s heading toward Parker Place. Move it!”
Marcus went into automatic mode, the way he always did when a fire broke out. Nothing mattered except taming the conflagration, hopefully before it destroyed much property.
Or took a life.
“Holy shit,” Quade Easton muttered as he slowed the pickup several yards from the fire line.
“I second that,” Marcus said. The blaze had definitely gotten out of control. Flames as far as he could see burned acres of dry brush and trees. With the drought that all of Texas experienced now, the flames had plenty of fuel. They shot several feet into the air in a wicked dance on their way to nearby houses.
Wasting no time, he exited the pickup with Quade and headed toward the rest of Lanville’s crew. Fire departments from several of the nearby towns had already been called to help. Marcus knew the Lanville firefighters would need the extra help as there seemed to be three distinct blazes going in three different directions.
“Power and gas are off,” Clay said loud enough to be heard over the commotion behind him. “Everyone’s been evacuated from the houses. We’re fighting three fires. You”—his arm swept a group of a third of Lanville’s firefighters—“to the main brush blaze. You”—he pointed to the next group—“come with me to the secondary brush blaze heading toward the houses. And you”—he turned to the remaining group—“you’re working the houses. Move, move!”
Marcus couldn’t help taking a moment to glance over the nearby houses. His ex-wife’s grandmother, Grace, lived in one of them. Right now, with all the commotion and the smoke making it difficult to see, he couldn’t tell which one belonged to her.
Pushing aside thoughts of the elderly woman he adored, Marcus led his six firefighters toward the houses. Two of the new homes were completely engulfed with no chance of saving them. The roof of the third house burned, but not badly enough yet so it couldn’t be stopped. Acting on instinct and experience, he helped Quade connect the hose to the fire hydrant and aimed the powerful spray toward the structure.
/> Nick raced up to him, an ax lying over his shoulder. “Anyone inside?” he yelled to be heard through the built-in microphone in his mask over the roar of the water.
“Not supposed to be,” Marcus said.
Nick looked toward the house, a concerned expression on his face. “I think this is Grace Simpson’s house.”
Fear skittered down Marcus’s spine. He knew Grace got around fine on her own, yet also knew she had a heart condition. He had no idea if her caretaker, Mattie, had gotten her out of the house safely.
He had to know for sure.
“Nick, with me. We’re going in.”
Two other firemen aimed the hose through a window as Marcus and Nick entered the front door. “Left first,” Marcus said.
“Roger that.”
Marcus led the way through the smoky living room. “Is anyone here?” he called out as loud as he could. No one in the dining room, or the kitchen. He assumed the bedrooms occupied the other side of the house.
He and Nick made their way down the hall, searching every room. The ceiling above him burned, so the fire made it through the roof at least in part of the house. Showers of sparks fell on him and he knew they had to get out of the house soon.
“All clear,” Nick said. “We’d better get out of here.”
He didn’t have to say that twice. Marcus took a step toward Nick, intending to follow him out of the house, when a crack sounded overhead. A huge part of the ceiling collapsed, right over Nick.
“Look out!”
Marcus lunged toward Nick and pushed him backward. Nick fell against a wall as the burning debris came down on top of Marcus. His left arm twisted beneath him when he hit the floor. He cried out in pain and instinctively curled into a ball to protect himself from the flames.
“Man down!” he heard Nick yell over the microphone.
Marcus batted at the burning chunks of wood while trying to protect his wrist. Only a few moments passed before other firefighters were by his side, knocking away the remnants from the ceiling. Someone grabbed him beneath his arms and tugged. He pressed his lips tightly together as the movement jarred his arm and pain shot through his wrist.
“I’ve got you, buddy,” Stephen said. “Hold on.”
Once clear of the debris, Nick lifted Marcus’s legs behind the knees. Marcus clutched his left wrist with his right hand while his friends carried him from the burning house all the way to one of their ambulances, despite his protest that he could walk.
Clay rushed up to the ambulance as Marcus sat inside the door. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Bummed up my wrist a bit.”
Starla Harkins, one of their EMTs, helped Marcus remove his turnout coat. Stocky and tough with short dark hair, she looked like she’d just as soon break his arm as repair it. Her gentle touch while she checked his wrist didn’t fit at all with her appearance.
“I don’t think it’s broken, Marcus, but we’re taking you to the hospital to get it checked.”
“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Marcus said, frowning. “Just slap a bandage around it and I’ll get back to the fire.”
“You aren’t going anywhere except to the hospital.” Clay’s firm voice clearly implied there would be no argument. “You know the rules, Marcus.”
“Chief, I’m fine. I can still work the hose.”
Ignoring his protest, Clay spoke to Starla. “Get him out of here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Clay—”
“Nick, Stephen, back to the fire.”
The two men hurried off while Marcus still sputtered in protest. Clay finally held up a hand to silence him.
“Enough! More fire departments are on the way. We’ll handle it, Marcus. You get that wrist taken care of.”
Blowing out a sigh, Marcus nodded. Starla stayed by his side while he climbed into the ambulance and sat on the gurney. “Ronnie driving?” he asked her, referring to another of the EMTs.
She nodded. “He’s talking to the hospital now and letting the ER know we’re on the way.”
“Shit,” he muttered.
Starla grinned, which transformed her face from rough to friendly. “Don’t worry, macho man. You’ll be back to swinging your hose before you know it.”
He could take her statement two ways, and he knew that’s exactly how Starla meant it. He laughed along with her.
“Lie back,” she said, pressing on his shoulders. “I’m going to put an ice pack on your wrist and check your vitals.”
Marcus did as she said. He closed his eyes and shifted until he found a comfortable spot on the gurney for the short ride to the hospital.
2
Rayna Holt brushed back the soft white hair from her grandmother’s face. She’d cried all her tears on the flight from San Francisco to Dallas–Fort Worth, so now her eyes remained dry. She didn’t want Nana to wake up and see her granddaughter upset.
Rayna silently kicked herself for not insisting her grandmother move to San Francisco to live with her. Despite having heart problems, Nana always said no when Rayna mentioned it, saying she’d lived in Lanville her entire life and had no plans to ever move away. She visited Rayna often and always enjoyed seeing the city’s sites, but no place would be home except Lanville.
Rayna’s only other option had been to hire a live-in caretaker. Although Nana got around fine on her own, Rayna knew the day would come when her seventy-nine-year-old grandmother would need help taking care of herself. So she’d bought a house for Nana in a brand-new housing development, one with wide doorways and lots of open space so she could move around easily. After balking about the expense, Nana had finally relented and accepted Rayna’s gift. Once settled in the house, her grandmother had told Rayna how much she loved it.
Rayna glanced around the hospital room, noting the pale yellow walls and white trim. Soothing. She’d never been inside the hospital. Nana’s health had generally been good until a few years ago, when her heart problems intensified. There’d never been a reason for Rayna to see the inside of a hospital room in Lanville.
There hadn’t been a reason for her to see anything in Texas, period. The painful memories made it impossible for her to come here to visit her grandmother. Since Nana loved to fly, it had been easier for Rayna to make the arrangements for Nana to visit her.
“What are you doing here?”
Turning her attention back to her grandmother, Rayna saw Nana’s smoky blue eyes open and alert. She smiled. “Hey, Nana.”
Nana didn’t return her smile. “Rayna, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see you. I was worried about you.”
“Pffft. All this commotion about a little shortness of breath.”
“Nana, you had an exacerbation of congestive heart failure. That’s serious.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Frowning, she looked around as if she’d lost something. “How do I raise this damn bed so we can talk?”
Rayna pressed the button to lift the head of the bed. Once Nana gave her okay to the position, Rayna adjusted the pillows behind her grandmother’s back and head.
“Don’t fuss over me, child.”
“Don’t give me a hard time,” Rayna snapped.
Nana’s sour expression vanished, to be replaced by a grin that lit up her entire face. “I knew that would piss you off.”
Rayna laughed, which she thought a miracle since a few minutes ago she’d been so worried about the woman she loved more than anyone in the world.
“How long do I have to be in this place?” Nana asked as she smoothed the covers around her hips.
“At least a couple of days. Maybe three. I spoke to the nurse on duty. Your doctor wants to run some tests.”
“Tests, schmests. A waste of my money and his time. I’m fine.”
Rayna picked up Nana’s hand and clasped it between both of hers. She looked at the pale skin and light blue veins so close to the surface. “For my peace of mind, let your doctor run the tests, okay? I want to be sure you’re al
l right.”
Nana studied her with that shrewd blue gaze that had always made Rayna believe her grandmother could see right inside her brain. “Who told you I was in the hospital? Mattie?”
Rayna nodded. “She called me this morning. I took the first plane I could get.”
“I told her not to bother you.”
“And I told her I wanted to be kept up-to-date on how you’re doing. She did exactly what she should’ve done.”
Nana’s eyes turned soft, sympathetic. “I know how hard it must be for you to have come here.” She squeezed Rayna’s hand. “You haven’t been back to Texas since you moved to California.”
No, and she wouldn’t be here now if she hadn’t been so worried about her grandmother. Pushing aside her discomfort, she smiled at Nana. “I’m the worrier, not you.”
A gentle knock sounded on the door. Rayna looked over her shoulder to see Mattie’s face in the open doorway. “Could I talk to you, Rayna?”
“What is it?” Nana asked, anxiety evident in her voice. “If it’s about me, tell me, Mattie.”
Mattie smiled, but Rayna thought it looked forced. “It isn’t about you, Grace. I just want to talk to Rayna a minute.”
Rayna kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
Once outside the room, Rayna followed Mattie a few yards down the hall. “What’s up?”
The concern in Mattie’s eyes made her look older than her twenty-six years, and made Rayna’s stomach churn. “There’s a fire at Parker Place.”
Now her stomach roiled along with churning. Her grandmother and Mattie lived in the Parker Place housing development.
Mattie grabbed Rayna’s hands. “Grace’s house is okay. The roof and outside kitchen wall caught fire, but the house is still standing. It’s mostly smoke and water damage, although the roof and that wall will have to be repaired. There are holes in both.”
Rayna released the air in her lungs in a long whoosh. “Repairs can be done. I’m thankful her house wasn’t destroyed. Were any of the houses badly burned?”
Mattie nodded. “Three have been completely destroyed, three others have major damage. The fire is still burning, but it’s a lot smaller than it was. Some of the neighboring fire departments are helping. I heard that some of our firefighters were hurt.”