“I didn’t ask for eggs,” Aislin told him.
“You need some protein.”
“How did you know I like mine over easy?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Lucky guess, I suppose. That’s the way I like mine.”
Something in her fey soul realized it hadn’t been a guess at all. He’d tuned in without being aware and she remembered his grandmother had said he’d shown signs of having The Sight as a young child. “Good enough,” Aislin said.
She sipped her coffee and savored the robust flavor. Morgan drank his black, too, she noticed. “Aren’t you supposed to be on duty?” she asked. “What if there’s a fire somewhere?”
“That’s what the radio is for,” he said. He patted the receiver on his belt. “Yeah, well, technically I should be at the station but you needed help. Were you on your way someplace?”
He’s wondering if I was meeting someone, Aislin thought, and fishing to see if I’m dating someone or not.
“I decided to take a stroll,” she said. He’d given her the perfect intro to explain her mission, but she chickened out. She liked him and wanted to enjoy breakfast with him before she dropped her bombshell.
Morgan nodded. “So you know I’m a firefighter and paramedic. What do you do?”
“I teach high school literature at Central High.”
His grin emerged again, brilliant and infectious. “I figured you were something more mystical than that,” he said. “I thought you might be an artist or a writer or a poet or something.”
Although she had just decided to wait, Aislin blurted out the truth. “I’m also a psychic medium.”
Morgan’s smile vanished and his face clouded. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“I talk to the dead,” she said. There wasn’t any reason to sugar coat the reality. “People come to me hoping to contact their loved ones or friends who have crossed over. Sometimes I receive messages for people.”
He put down his cup with a little too much force and coffee sloshed over the rim onto the table. “I don’t believe in that nonsense. It’s a trick and a gimmick. Or if I want to be hateful, I’ll call it a con.”
“It’s not.”
His scowl was as fierce as an enraged bear. “We’ll have to disagree then. No one in their right mind believes that junk.”
“Your grandmother did.” The words were out before she thought.
“What? You don’t know anything about my grandmother. Look, I’ll tell them to cancel the order and pay for the coffee. I’ve had enough bullshit to last me for the rest of the day.”
If he walked now, she would never be able to deliver the message or warn him and he would die. A powerful sorrow drowned her heart at the possibility. She had to talk fast, convince him to listen or the chance would be gone forever. Besides, he attracted her and she wanted more.
Behind Morgan, Jenny appeared. Aislin’s mind filled with details, the bitter cold of winter, along with the crisp scent of carnations and mums.
“Her name was Jenny Carmichael,” she said. Morgan had been halfway out of his seat, but he sat down. “She died February 5, 2000, on a cold winter’s night with a michty wind that rattled and howled outside. The sky was clear that night, bright with thousands of sparkling stars and after she called you and your sister, you noticed them on the way to her house. By the time you arrived, she was gone, though, and you called an ambulance. You were in college, I think.”
Jenny nodded approval and smiled at her. “That’s right, lass, tell it to him. He’s listening, anyway.”
“Who told you that?” Morgan asked. His voice had gone hoarse and thick. “Someone told you. Who? My sister? My mother?”
“Your grandmother told me,” Aislin said. “She’s here. And she says it began snowing early the next morning. The streets were slick when your family went to the funeral home to make arrangements and at the visitation not many came. Snowplows were working through the night. No one else but you remembered she wanted to be laid to rest in her best white blouse, the white one with lace at the cuffs and on the collar with a navy blue skirt. And you retrieved the brooch, an antique one, from the cigar box on her dresser, the one she kept her jewelry in since she was a girl.”
Morgan went pale, his face stark white in contrast to his dark blue uniform. When he reached for his coffee cup, his hand trembled a bit. “Is this a joke?” he asked. “If so, then I’m not amused.”
“It’s not. Her cameo brooch isn’t like any I’ve seen before. It’s got filigree work around it and it has lots of little rhinestones but it’s lovely. The cameo head is a lady in profile facing left, her hair is up, and she has a necklace around her throat. Oh, and she’s holding up a rose and she has an earring.”
“We buried Granny with it on,” Morgan said. “You can’t know that. Wait, you must’ve seen a picture.”
Aislin shook her head. “No, she’s here, wearing it.”
“I don’t believe you. But if she was here, tell me why.”
“She wants to warn you, Morgan.”
His expression intensified. “About what?”
“Jenny says you’ll die in a fire soon. She’s been trying to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen.”
For the first time since Aislin began giving him the message, Morgan’s features softened.
“I’ve been dreaming about her for months,” he said. “I don’t always remember what the dreams are about but I wake up anxious. I’m not saying I buy any of this bunk, but Granny says I’ll die in a fire?”
The memory of her dream and the vision she experienced earlier caused Aislin to shudder. “Yes.”
“Can I ask how I’m supposed to die?”
“Your breathing apparatus malfunctions, I think,” Aislin told him. “It quits working and then you’re lost in the smoke. You can’t see the way to get out.”
Morgan drummed his fingers on the table for a moment. “See, this is where I can’t believe it. I’m a firefighter and you know it.”
“I didn’t until Jenny came through!”
“Yeah, well, whatever. It would be easy enough to look up. The city has a fire department website and each of the firehouses have one too. It’s not hard to find out I’m a firefighter. Or, if you have my name, to look up my dear departed grandma. What’s in this for you?”
Aislin held out her palms in an open gesture. “Nothing,” she said. “I’m not looking for money or praise or fame. I just wanted to deliver her message and keep you from dying.”
And I’m attracted to you and I think you’re sexy and I like you a lot. I feel some weird connection to you which is probably coming from Jenny, but I don’t want you to die.
“Why?”
His blunt question evoked honesty. “I don’t like any unnecessary death,” she told him. “And I don’t know how to explain it but I feel drawn to you, connected somehow even though we just met.”
Something flickered in his eyes and he nodded. “I get that,” he said. “I feel the same way. The moment I saw you, leaning against that tree looking sick, I had to see if you were all right. Okay, I do believe that much. But this other, it’s hard for me to swallow.”
Jenny’s spirit moved to stand at Aislin’s side. “Ask him if he remembers the clootie dumplings I always made at Christmas time or the Cullen Skink. Or the toad-in-a-hole he so loved for his breakfast as a lad.”
She had no clue what any of the dishes were, but she repeated them to Morgan. His blue eyes widened. “There’s no way you could know that,” he said. “No one but Granny ever cooked those things for me.”
“I don’t even know what any of them are,” Aislin confessed.
Morgan laughed. “I’ll tell you if you want to know. Here comes our breakfast.”
At least he’d given up on bolting for now. They ate the toast and eggs with appetite and dropped the mystical message conversation for now. Aislin noted the stubborn tilt of Morgan’s chin and knew it wasn’t over. But, she had managed to crack his façade and open him to the
possibilities.
By the time they finished the meal, she knew he followed baseball and basketball but not football. Morgan discovered she loved vintage rock and roll; Creedence Clearwater Revival, AC/DC and Ozzy instead of the New Age sound he had expected. Aislin learned a clootie dumpling was a dessert thick with raisins and served with cream, that Cullen Skink was a rich soup made with smoked haddock, and that toad-in-the-hole was a breakfast pie with link sausages cooked, then covered with a batter and baked. They both shared a love of the outdoors, of walking in the park or hiking along the river bluffs. Despite his skepticism and her spiritualism, they had many things in common and by the time Aislin blotted her lips with a napkin, she knew she wanted much more of the handsome fireman.
Jenny had vanished again, just as well since Aislin wouldn’t want the sweet old lady’s spirit to be shocked if she read her mind. “Thank you for breakfast,” she said. “I guess I needed it more than I thought.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’m on duty 24/7 for the next three days but I’m off Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. I’d like to talk more about this psychic stuff and Granny. Are you free for dinner on Thursday or Friday?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “Take your pick.”
Morgan smiled at her. “How about we go out both nights? Thursday, I’ll take you for a burger and a beer if you’d like, then out on Friday for all-you-can-eat seafood at a little place I know. Whaddya say?”
“Yes.”
She opened her mouth to offer to make dinner for him sometime, not the Scottish dishes from his childhood but the good, hearty American food she did well. Things like chili and pot roast and baked chicken but his radio came to life with a fire call to a structure on the South side of town. Aislin could barely make out the garbled words or understand the code, but Morgan did.
“I’ve got to go,” he said. “I’ll see you Thursday around five thirty if you’ll tell me where you live.”
Aislin rattled off her address, a few blocks away. He stood up, pulled out his billfold, and left a tip. Then he headed for the cashier so she followed. Outside, he hesitated and then he reached out to pull her into his arms. Aislin went willing and rested her hands on his shoulders.
“I enjoyed this, despite the weird factor,” he told her.
Morgan kissed her, his mouth warm and firm on her lips. A hot tide of passion began near her groin and moved upward with the molten force of an erupting volcano. Every nerve ending in Aislin’s body sang with joy and her nipples hardened with want. Greedy for more, she kissed him back until they clung together, tighter than a knot, on the sidewalk. They might have continued but a deep, guttural blast from the fire engine broke their concentration.
“I gotta go,” he said, again. “I’ll see you later.”
“Thursday, five thirty,” Aislin replied.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Morgan turned away, then back. “It’s not today, is it?”
“What?”
“This call, it’s not the one that may prove fatal, is it?”
He sounded worried and she shook her head. “No, it’s not. I don’t know for sure when but it’s not today.”
Morgan smiled, not the broad grin she had admired earlier but a bittersweet expression.
“Good,” he said. “I’m not ready to die.”
And I’m not ready to lose you before I have you, Aislin thought as he walked away.
She stood still and watched him go, already three-fourths of the way into falling in love, hard.
Chapter Three
Her familiar classroom seemed strange, as if it no longer quite fit and the hours passed with slow measure between Monday morning and Wednesday afternoon. Aislin usually had enthusiasm for teaching and enjoyed sharing her favorite bits of classic literature with her classes. Nothing pleased her more than a student who came into one of her courses hating reading and then discovering the joys. This week, however, she remained distracted. If she heard the distant wail of emergency sirens, Aislin paused and tried to tune into Morgan. She learned to distinguish between the sharp sound of a police cruiser, the harsh wail of an ambulance, and the banshee-like noise of fire engines.
“Did something earth-shattering happen to you lately?” Teresa Tompkins, the English teacher in the next classroom, asked during their conference period on Wednesday.
“Why?”
Teresa shrugged. “You act different, distant and like your thoughts are a million miles away. You’ve been like this all week.”
Busted, Aislin said, “I met a guy¸ a firefighter. We’re going out tomorrow night and Friday.”
“You must really like him.”
She smiled. “I do.”
“I’ve never seen you so distracted. You’ve dated a lot of men but so far, I don’t remember anyone who affected you this way. Is he good-looking?”
“Totally,” Aislin said. “He’s got the most fantastic blue eyes.”
“So what are you going to wear?”
“I have no idea.”
“Let’s go shopping after school.”
Aislin hesitated. She didn’t enjoy shopping the way a lot of women did. Jenny Carmichael floated into the teacher’s prep room and hovered. “Go buy a new dress or slacks, lass,” the old woman’s ghost said. “Morgan’s favorite colors are green and light blue. You want to look prettier than that Page Erickson, the one cheating on him.”
Damned if she hadn’t forgotten that part. Morgan had someone he’d been dating and probably still was. As if Jenny read her mind, the woman said, “He called to break it off with her on Monday night, dearie. He’s taken with you.”
“Is he?”
“Och, aye, at least as much as you are with him.”
Her cheeks flushed. Thank goodness Jenny’s voice wasn’t audible to anyone else.
“Who?” Teresa asked.
“What?”
“Well, you said ‘is he?’ and I didn’t know who you meant or what.”
“I’m sorry, just thinking out loud, I guess. I just wondered if Morgan was looking forward to our date as much as I am.” Fast save, Aislin.
“Unless he’s crazy, I bet so. So do you want to go shopping or not?”
“Sure, why not?”
The baby blue top edged with fine lace had a low-cut neckline and paired well with her skinny jeans. She picked out a few other blouses and some accessories before hurrying home.
Her dinner plans had involved the microwave and a frozen entrée, but she found Morgan standing on her front porch with a pizza box in one hand. His smile would dazzle anyone, she thought, all too aware she probably looked as frazzled as she felt. “Hi,” she said. “I thought our date was tomorrow.”
“It is,” he said. “But I didn’t have anything else to do so I picked up a pizza and came over, hoping you’d be free. Are you?”
If she hadn’t been, Aislin would’ve changed her plans. “Yes,” she said with a smile. “Come on in.”
She held the door open wide for him and he entered. Morgan trailed her down the narrow hall leading to her kitchen. He glanced left and right as he passed through her house. Aislin, suffering from a few awkward pangs, babbled. “That’s the parlor where I do readings,” she said. “This is the dining room that I never use for anything but my computer and the den where I have my television. I don’t watch it much, though.”
“It’s a nice place,” he said. “It’s a big house for one person. Do you rent it?”
She thought he must be fishing for information about her life, her past loves and replied, “No, I grew up here. My parents still own it, but they moved to Arizona for the warmer winters. I’m their only child so they figured I might as well live here. It is a lot of space, sometimes too much but I like it.”
He chuckled. “I’ve got a little studio apartment, one large room divided into areas. Since I’m at the fire station a lot of the time, I don’t need much but it’d be fantastic to have some room to spread and stretch. Do you have a backyard?”
“Yes, a
large one. There’s a huge old pear tree in the center of it and a lot of flower beds my dad tended for years, mostly perennials. I have a small patio right out from the back door, too.”
“Sounds wonderful,” he said. He moved to catch the view from the window. “There’s a picnic table. Can we eat out there?”
“Sure,” Aislin said. “Let me grab some plates. Would you like a beer or a can of soda?”
“Beer, please.”
She grabbed two longnecks from the fridge and a couple of paper plates. Aislin led the way outside and sat at the round table topped with an umbrella. Morgan sprawled across from her with his feet propped on the spare chair and opened the pizza box. The enticing aroma of rich tomato sauce, melted mozzarella cheese, Italian sausage, and pepperoni wafted from it and Aislin sighed. “That smells wonderful.”
Morgan grinned. “What were you planning to have for supper? Fess up!”
“I would’ve stuck a frozen entrée, lasagna or fried rice, in the microwave,” she admitted. “I eat a lot of frozen stuff, canned soup and ravioli, some salads and stuff.”
“Figures,” he said. “Dig in, what are you waiting for?”
Aislin picked up a piece of pizza and took her first bite. “Wow, that’s delicious.”
He nodded as he dived into the food. “Yeah, we get pizza from this place at the firehouse all the time. It’s the best. With a cold beer, it’s the ultimate but, of course, we can’t have the beer when we’re on duty.”
“What’s it like when you’re on?” She had always wondered. “Is it boring?”
Morgan shrugged. “Yes and no. We manage to pass the time, playing cards, watching television or a movie, washing the trucks, taking care of the equipment, cooking big batches of chili or stew. I’m fond of long naps, myself. You can’t ever quite relax, though, because you know at any moment, an alarm can come in and we’ll head out. It can be boring but then that beats putting your life in danger.”
She’d been waiting for the subject to open. “Yes, I would think it would. I guess you learn to live with it.”
“ Yeah, sort of,” Morgan replied. “It’s not something I dwell on a lot, just sometimes in the thick of a fire or something. I’ve thought about it more lately because of what you said. I tried to convince myself it was just a creative way to get to know me, but I decided it wasn’t.”
Fire Rescue Page 2