Firefighter Under the Mistletoe

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Firefighter Under the Mistletoe Page 3

by Melissa McClone


  She glanced up. “You go back to them afterward?”

  Christian was surprised by her sympathy for the women he dated. Thomas kept her personal life private, but he’d seen her around town with guys. Just no one from the fire station. He’d thought she might be like him—only dating casually. He never thought she could be seriously involved with someone or looking to get involved.

  None of his business, he reminded himself.

  “Hey, I need someone to kiss when the clock strikes midnight on New Years,” Christian said.

  “Damn straight,” Paulson agreed.

  Christian wondered what it would be like to kiss Thomas. He’d bet she kissed as well as she did everything else.

  “And sometimes,” Paulson continued. “If you’re lucky, you get a belated Christmas gift, too.”

  “I thought Hughes and Porter were players.” Thomas checked Owen’s vitals. “They had nothing on the two of you.”

  Paulson beamed like a kid with straight A’s on his report card. “Thanks, Thomas.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” Christian said.

  Her eyes narrowed. The color resembled dark chocolate now. Her eyes looked prettier than usual, sexier.

  She sighed. “That wasn’t a compliment, boys.”

  Interesting. Why hadn’t he noticed her eyes got very sexy when annoyed?

  The rescue team brought Owen down the mountain in the litter. Leanne couldn’t do anything more for him out in the elements so she assisted with the descent.

  Snow swirled, but the temperature remained steady. That would make things easier on Welton.

  Leanne glanced his way. He moved slowly, cautiously, as if he didn’t want to make a mistake. A picture of perfect mountaineering technique.

  “Almost there,” she said.

  Welton had to be exhausted, and even a little hypothermic.

  She couldn’t make out his features or see his eyes with all his winter gear and goggles on, but his shoulders hunched slightly. That couldn’t be from the weight of his pack. The gear had been distributed among the rescue team.

  A signal his condition had changed? Better find out. Welton would never complain. “You doing okay?”

  “No different from when you asked five minutes ago,” he answered. “My condition hasn’t changed.”

  “If it had, would you tell me?”

  “No.”

  The guy had the never-say-die attitude down pat. His willingness to want to assist in the descent after two nights in a snow cave impressed her. He showed strength and courage not found in a lot of people these days.

  Whoa. She was sounding like a total Welton fangirl. That wasn’t like her to go on and on about a guy. Time to get back to business. “We should see the Sno-Cat and the other rescue team any minute.”

  “Is that them?” His ski mask muffled his voice.

  Jake Porter and Tim Moreno led the way with three other OMSAR members behind them. “Yes. That’s Rescue Team 2. Fresh arms and legs will speed up the descent.”

  The sooner they arrived at the Sno-Cat, parked above the Palmer ski lift, the sooner they could get down to Timberline and out of the cold.

  Welton moved closer to the litter. “If you’d let me help more—”

  “You’ve done enough, Welton.” She understood his frustration. Firefighters were trained to help. “In a few minutes, you’ll be inside the Sno-Cat and riding down the hill. An ambulance will take you to the hospital.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “If you aren’t checked out and cleared by a doctor, the chief will keep you off line duty.” No one at the station wanted to be forced to sit out calls. “You’ve got to go.”

  Christian grumbled. “Are you going down in the ’Cat?”

  “One of our unit members is a doc. He’ll be with you. I’m skiing down with the team.” As Welton’s pace slowed more, her concern and unease rose. “You cold?”

  “Just a little down.” He exhaled on a sigh. The condensation from his breath hung on the air. “Wish I could ski with you guys.”

  His wistful tone tugged at her heart. She would much rather ski than ride the loud, uncomfortable Sno-Cat. Skiing was faster, too. “Another day.”

  He straightened. “I might hold you to that.”

  Leanne grinned at the way he’d mimicked her words back at the snow cave. “Do.”

  “When?”

  The guy had been through so much. She might not be able to see his smile, but she wanted to hear it in his voice. “Whenever you want to go.”

  The newest member of OMSAR, Dr. Cullen Gray, charged in front of Porter and Moreno.

  “Thomas.” He studied Owen, bundled up in the litter like a swaddled newborn, then looked at her. “That was a fast decent.”

  “Seemed a little slow to me. I hope you and the rest of the team kept warm.” Gray had moved to Hood Hamlet this past summer. “Patient is twenty-six. Good health. Stable vitals. Multiple fractures of his left wrist and ankle. Possible ligament tear on the right knee. Facial lacerations.”

  “Morphine?” Gray asked.

  She nodded. “All he’d had until we arrived was a couple ibuprofen.”

  The second team joined the others in lowering the litter.

  “We gave him an initial five milligrams and another five due to his pain level and needing to get him down the mountain,” Leanne continued. “His vitals remained stable after the meds.”

  “We’ll get him into the Sno-Cat,” Gray said. “What about the other subject?”

  Leanne motioned to Welton. “Twenty-eight. Excellent health. A little hypothermic. Slight dehydration. Annoying at times.”

  She waited for Gray to respond. He didn’t. And people called her too serious and intense.

  “I’m fine, Thomas,” Welton said.

  Gray motioned to the Sno-Cat. “We’ll make sure.”

  Welton glanced her way. She imagined a frown on his handsome face.

  “Take it easy, Welton.” She wanted to cheer him up. “Follow doctors orders. Don’t break any nurses’ hearts.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He sounded as if he might be smiling a little. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah. Feel better.”

  “I never knew you cared, Thomas.”

  The tenderness in his voice made her heart bump. Leanne must be more tired than she realized if Welton could affect her that way. She squared her shoulders. “I don’t. But my stomach appreciates your cooking.”

  With a laugh, he climbed into the Sno-Cat. The door slammed closed.

  Another mission almost ready for the logbook. She stared at the Sno-Cat with a satisfied smile.

  “Race you down,” Paulson challenged, the way he had since they were nine and had met her first day at elementary school.

  “You’re so going to lose,” Leanne said as usual.

  “Yeah,” Paulson admitted. “But I’ll still be kicking back in the lodge way before the Sno-Cat arrives.”

  The Sno-Cat’s engine revved. She wished Welton could be with them racing down the hill instead of riding in that thing. The guy deserved a break for taking such good care of his cousin. Maybe she should invite him…

  “Before you hotshots head down,” Sean Hughes said. “Don’t forget the media will be waiting for us.”

  Leanne groaned. So did a couple other members on the team. Dealing with the press was her second-least favorite part of mountain rescue. Body recoveries were the first.

  “Come on, now.” Hughes looked at each one of them. “The press has a job to do. You know reporters won’t go home without a story. They’ll make up stuff and get it wrong if we don’t answer their questions. Who’ll talk to them with me?”

  Apprehension coursed through Leanne’s veins. The media circus got out of hand fast. She didn’t want or need any attention for helping others in need. If she gained some good karma for her own climbing endeavors, okay. But if not, no biggie. “I pass.”

  Paulson gave her a nod. “I’ll do it so Thomas can put her feet up and eat som
e bonbons before the debriefing.”

  Yeah, right. She smiled. “Have at it, boys. While you’re showing the cameras your good side, I’ll be sure to have a bonbon or two for each of you.”

  Leanne skied down the mountain. With the wind and snow on her, the cold seeped into her bones the way it had farther up the mountain. She couldn’t wait to park herself in front of the day lodge’s fireplace and warm up.

  Fortunately skiing down didn’t take much time at all.

  The press stood waiting like hungry piranhas ready for a meal. Reporters jockeyed for the perfect position. Camera lights blared. People shouted questions. Others took photographs.

  Leanne moved quickly past them in silence. She dumped her skis and poles in OMSAR’s storage/catchall room. She also removed her rescue jacket. She didn’t want any press who wandered inside bothering her.

  She sat at one of the day lodge’s tables and removed her ski mask, helmet and gloves. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee made her mouth water, but first things first.

  Leanne removed her boots. Freedom! Her feet would have shrieked in delight if they could. She wiggled her cold toes.

  A cup of steaming coffee appeared in front of her. “Nice work up there.”

  She looked up to see a former roommate. “Thanks, Zoe.”

  Zoe Hughes, Sean’s wife, was an associate member of OMSAR. She was also the most beautiful woman in Hood Hamlet. Straight brown hair hung past her shoulders. She’d decide to give up her tabloid trademarked blond locks and go au naturel with her hair color. “Tired, Lee?”

  “A little.” Leanne sipped the coffee. The hot liquid tasted so good. “Sean’s out with the press.”

  “Figured that’s where he’d be.” Zoe glanced toward the double doors. “My mother thinks he has a future in politics.”

  “What does Sean think?”

  “I don’t really want to repeat it.”

  Leanne laughed. She took another drink. “If I fall asleep, make sure someone wakes me for the debriefing.”

  “I will.” With that Zoe floated away. Ever since marrying Sean her feet never seemed to touch the ground.

  That blissful state was something Leanne had never experienced. She’d dated, a couple of times seriously, but she’d never felt that way about any man. Someday, Leanne hoped she would.

  Her heavy eyelids drooped. Fatigue from the climb and rescue overtook her need to stay awake until the rest of the team came inside. She closed her eyes.

  An unexpected image of Welton appeared, smiling at her the way he had in the snow cave. Up on the moutain, he’d made her feel like the most important person in the world. His word, at least. She yawned. Too bad that feeling had to end.

  Exhaustion kept her eyes from springing open. The guy smiled a lot, but she couldn’t remember the last time one had been directed at her. She’d liked how it felt then. She might as well enjoy his smile now.

  Two days later, Leanne arrived at the Hood Hamlet Fire Station craving a sense of normalcy. No matter where she went in town yesterday on her day off, the rescue had been the topic of conversation. That annoyed her.

  She entered the dining area. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee greeted her. Paulson handed her a cup that she accepted gladly. The perfect way to start her shift. Both B and C shifts crowded around the table. A few volunteers, too.

  “Finally,” Marc O’Ryan, her medic partner, said. “We want to hear all about Welton’s rescue.”

  Oh, no. Leanne swallowed a sigh. She looked at each of the faces in the room. Only Welton was missing.

  Bummer. She’d wanted to hear how Owen was doing. But she also wanted to see how Welton was faring. She’d thought about him lots yesterday. More than she would have expected.

  “Before we hear about the rescue,” the lieutenant announced, “let’s get the morning briefing over with.”

  The exchange of information took less than five minutes. A new record.

  “Now it’s Paulson and Thomas’s turn,” the lieutenant said.

  Leanne wanted no part of this. “I’m going to let Paulson tell you what happened. I’ve got some stuff to do with the toy drive.”

  Every year the fire station put on a toy drive to help local families in the area who were in need. Leanne usually ended up in charge. Not that she minded. It was a great cause.

  “Go on,” Paulson said. “I don’t mind telling the tale.”

  Leanne left him to entertain the captive audience. She preferred putting missions behind her, no matter the outcome, not dwelling on them. Nothing good came from rehashing things over and over again. Life didn’t give do-overs. No matter how much a person might want to change what happened, they couldn’t. Learn whatever lessons there were and move on.

  She grabbed a pair of scissors and the fire station’s toy drive supply box. She rolled out two large barrels from the back room into one of the apparatus bays. Additional drop-off bins around town might increase the number of donations. Right now things weren’t looking so good. Only two new toys had been dropped off. One was from her.

  She measured the barrels with the roll of red-and-white striped wrapping paper. If she worked fast, she could have these decorated before the rest of the station came out to check the vehicles. She kneeled on the cement.

  “Thomas.”

  Leanne recognized the voice immediately. Welton. She turned.

  With an easy smile and bright eyes, Welton strode toward her in his uniform—a navy T-shirt and pants. His steel-toed shoes sounded against the pavement with a rhythmic clip. He moved with the grace of an athlete. Not bad for a guy who’d spent two nights in a snow cave. He’d shaved the stubble from his face. His light brown hair with an above the collar cut had been neatly styled. Quite a difference from his bad-boy look a couple days ago on the mountain.

  Her heart went pitter-pat, a totally unexpected, unwelcome reaction. Okay, Welton was tough. He’d survived on the mountain and saved his cousin. That explained why her insides suddenly felt like goo. “You’re the last person I expected to see today, rookie.”

  He stopped next to her. “Good morning, Thomas.”

  “Bet it feels like a great morning to you.”

  “Nothing like a comfy bed and a hot shower to make a person realize how good they have it.”

  “You’re right about that.” She lowered her gaze from his face. Uh-oh. She was eye level with his, um, pant’s zipper. Heat rose up her neck. She faced the bins. “You missed the morning briefing.”

  “Chief put me on light duty and told me not to rush in.”

  Leanne bet it would be hard for Welton to watch the engine go out without him.

  “He wants me to do some interviews here today,” Welton continued. “Chief thought it might give the station and town a little PR.”

  She cut two large pieces from the wrapping paper. “Smart thinking. Hood Hamlet’s been hurting with the drop in tourism. I’ve never seen so few donations to the toy drive.”

  “It’s only the second of December.”

  “True, but usually we receive a lot of toys when the drive kicks off. If donations don’t improve significantly, we won’t have enough toys to match the number of requests we’ve received. There are a lot more needy families around here this year.”

  “No worries,” Welton said. “All you need is a little Christmas magic.”

  Most of the old-timers around Hood Hamlet, and some of the not so old ones believed in Christmas magic. Leanne, not so much. Okay, not at all. She knew better than to put her faith in legends and fairy tales. Hard work and perseverance were the only things a person could count on. Even then life could change in an instant.

  She returned the scissors to the supply box. “Oh, yeah, those barrels will be filled up with toys by the end of the week faster than I can say abracadabra.”

  “I never knew you were so cynical, Thomas.”

  “Not cynical,” she countered. “Realistic.”

  “Being realistic isn’t all that fun.”

  Welton’s words d
idn’t surprise her. She’d met his family at Timberline Lodge. Nice folks. Caring. Wealthy. He probably had never dealt with real disappointment his entire life. That was why he acted so carefree.

  “Maybe not, but being realistic keeps you from crashing to earth as often.” She positioned the wrapping paper around the first bin. “What the toy drive really needs is free publicity.”

  He held the paper against the barrel with his large hands. The hands of a climber with several small white scars and a larger one, as if he’d scraped off skin jamming his hand into a crack. “Let me help.”

  Welton moved closer. He smelled nothing like the mountain today. His fresh-soap-and-water scent surrounded Leanne with intoxicating maleness.

  “Thanks.” As she taped the bright paper around the bin, warmth emanated from him like a space heater set on high. “Any word on Owen this morning?”

  “He’s with the doctors at the moment,” Welton said. “My aunt’s going to text me when he’s out.”

  “Keep me posted on his condition, okay?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  He turned the barrel, making it easier for her to tape. As she scooted closer, her left shoulder brushed his right leg.

  Heat burst through her at the point of contact. Leanne tensed and moved away from him.

  What was going on? They’d worked closely before out on calls, but she seemed hypersensitive this morning. Concern over his well-being from the rescue hadn’t gone away yet.

  She added another piece of tape. “Finished with this one.”

  “It looks like a giant peppermint stick.”

  Leanne nodded. “All I need is ribbon and a boy.”

  “A boy?” The humor in Welton’s eyes echoed in his voice. “Is that what you want Santa to bring you, Thomas?”

  Her cheeks warmed. Being around him made her feel self-conscious, tongue-tied. So unlike herself. “I meant a bow.”

  “Boys are more fun,” he teased.

  She reached for the other piece of wrapping paper to cover the second barrel. “Except those who don’t want a girlfriend for Christmas.”

  “Hey, I’m lots of fun.”

 

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