“He says turn on the TV, Channel Two.”
Well that didn’t sound like an emergency after all. Aidan reached for the remote and pressed the ON button. The screen filled with an aerial shot of something on fire. The newscaster’s voice came over the footage.
“As you can see, Kirkwood’s Recycled Bookstore is completely consumed by flames.”
The footage switched to a woman standing next to the station’s news van with smoke billowing behind her as the newscaster continued.
“Is there any word on the trapped firefighters? Are they injured, and what is being done to rescue them?”
The woman shook her head. “We don’t know the condition of the men trapped inside the building, but if you look behind me…” The picture changed again. “You can see firefighters are working frantically to find a safe path to them.”
Aidan stood frozen in front of the television. The rest of the world faded into a blur. She forgot about Phoebe in the room and Chris on the phone. The fire was massive, glowing yellow, orange, and dark red, crawling, curling, and leaping like an entity writhing in the throes of death. Normally she found it beautiful.
“We don’t know if he’s even one of the men trapped inside,” Phoebe’s voice filtered through.
“What?” Aidan said, still distracted.
“I’m sure he’s fine.” Phoebe’s voice cracked at the pitch, rattling Aidan out of her thoughts and away from the TV. She looked at Phoebe and saw her clutching the phone to her chest, her knuckles white.
Aidan reached out and grasped her by the arms, searching her eyes for a semblance of level-headedness. “Talk to Chris,” she said.
Phoebe glanced at the phone. “Aidan…”
“I’m sure you’re right, that he’s fine. But Chris won’t be if you leave him hanging like that.” That seemed to work, because Phoebe lifted the phone to her ear and started talking again. Aidan turned back to the TV.
“For those of you just joining us, Kirkwood Plaza off of Clark and Baptist is in flames,” the newscaster said. “The fire was reported at 3:21 this afternoon in the back of Kirkwood’s Recycled Bookstore. Firefighters arrived shortly after that and began fighting the fire while people evacuated to the parking lot. At approximately 3:40, the structure began to collapse, trapping two firefighters. We have no information on their condition, and a rescue mission is underway.”
Aidan’s mouth pressed into a grim line. From the aerial photographs, she could see the large number twenty-five on two of the fire trucks at the scene, so she knew Trent’s Company was there. But where? Was he on the outside fighting the fire, was he part of the rescue mission, or was he the one needing rescuing? She wondered why this situation had never crossed her mind before. She knew he was a firefighter, and that such line of work was sometimes dangerous.
The detached reflection of a historian fell over her for a moment. He’s a warrior. He goes into battle with his armor and weapons against an untamed dragon. There is no fear and doubt, it just is. Then the thought of him venturing into a treacherous lair and not returning carved out a pit in her stomach. She wanted to see him, to touch him, to know that he was real and not just some memory from a distant life. In that moment, she realized she wasn’t willing to leave him as a casual acquaintance, one easily replaced should he fade out of her life. She wanted him for the rest of this life, wholly and completely. She had never understood what a soul mate meant before. Now that she did, she wasn’t afraid of it. She had lived through wars and revolutions, nature’s disasters and journeys into the unknown. It was time for a new adventure.
“We’ve got men being carried out,” the newscaster suddenly said. “They’re being loaded into ambulances. Authorities refuse to give names and conditions until the families can be notified.”
“You can call his brother,” Phoebe exclaimed.
Aidan furrowed her brows. If Trent were injured, they’d call Bryan. If Trent wasn’t injured, Bryan could find out much quicker than she could. She went looking for the card he had given her so long ago for a different purpose. It was at the bottom of her book bag. She grabbed her phone and punched in his number at the station.
“Detective McCain.”
“It’s Aidan,” she said, suddenly feeling shy and unsure.
“Hi,” he said cautiously. “What can I do for you?”
“Is Trent okay? I mean, you would know.”
“Why wouldn’t he be okay?”
Aidan’s tongue stuck inside her mouth. He didn’t know? “The big fire…at the strip mall... They reported two firefighters trapped and injured, but not who.”
She heard shuffling and the sound of objects getting knocked over, and what sounded like Bryan barking at someone to get on the line to the Fire Chief.
“Are they still trapped?” he asked.
“No.” She glanced at the TV. “The news just reported that they were being taken to the hospital, but they wouldn’t have names until the families had been notified.” She paused. “I’m not family.” She could hear the tension in his breathing on the other end. Aidan didn’t know what to say; she could only watch and wait.
***
Bryan had the strong urge to pace, but the phone at his ear tied him to the desk. Jess came back from the Captain’s office where she had asked him to get in touch with the Fire Chief. Someone had turned on the TV to show the fire, which still blazed and had already destroyed a quarter of the strip mall.
“It wasn’t Trent,” Jess said, and Bryan felt a wash of immense relief. “He’s still out there fighting it.”
When he didn’t say anything, she gestured impatiently at the phone he still held.
“Aidan?” he said into the mouthpiece.
“Yes?” She was probably watching the footage on TV too.
“Trent wasn’t one of the firemen injured.” He heard her let out a long breath.
“Thank you.”
“Sure,” was all he could think to say in return. He waited for her to say goodbye and hung up. Then he grabbed his car keys and jacket. “I’m going to the scene.”
“Are you going to get Aidan?” Jess asked.
“Why would I do that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Because she’s just as worried as you, and she’d probably like to see that he’s all right for herself, just like you’re going to do.”
Bryan’s brow wrinkled. He was relieved that his brother wasn’t already in an ambulance, but the knot in his stomach still twisted because the remaining men were still fighting the blaze, and the dangers weren’t over until it was. Aidan probably knew that. Maybe Trent would appreciate seeing her…Bryan could tell that his brother was falling in love.
“Call and tell her I’ll stop by to pick her up on my way there,” he said, sounding more irritated than he actually felt.
Jess nodded, and he started to leave but turned on his heel at the door.
“Call me with her address?” he said sheepishly.
She nodded again and waved him off.
It was nearing dusk, and his car was cold, having been parked under layers of concrete all day. He knew that where Trent was, cold was not an issue. Bryan started the engine and pulled out. Normally he waited for the heat to start working, but that seemed unimportant right then. Jess called a few minutes later with directions to Aidan’s apartment. She also made a point of informing him how grateful Aidan had sounded when Jess told her he was coming to get her.
It took twelve minutes to get to her apartment, and she was already outside waiting. He pulled up alongside the curb and had to toss some fast food wrappers in the back before she hopped in. He waited for her to buckle-up, which she did quickly, and pulled out onto the street again. The heater finally began warming up the car, and she looked cold. He wondered if she had gone to stand outside right after Jess had called.
They drove in silence. The closer they got to the strip mall, the heavier traffic became. The darkening sky glowed a deep red—like blood. Bryan switched on his flashing lights, but not the
siren, and maneuvered the car through the obstacles until he came to the far end of the mall’s parking lot. He and Aidan got out of the car and walked to the police line. He held up his badge and asked the uniformed officer about the progress.
“They declared it contained,” the guy replied. “Now it’s a matter of suppression.”
“Where’s the Fire Chief?”
The officer sighed. “Your brother’s out there, right? Detective, I sympathize, but I’ve worked lines like these before. It’s best to let them do their work and talk to them when it’s done.”
Bryan glared at the officer and considered pushing his way past him anyway, but he felt a gentle hand rest on his arm.
“He’s right,” Aidan said. “They have to finish.”
She said it with such calm, he wondered if she was in shock. A closer look at her face revealed she was alert and taking in the scene with the focus of someone studying it. He started at her eyes. It was as though the flames in the distance reflected in her pupils, melting with a fire already swimming in them. He fought the thrall and turned his gaze to what everyone else was looking at.
“It’s terrible,” he said.
“Unbridled power is,” she replied. “Thank you for bringing me.”
She sounded genuinely appreciative, which made him feel a twinge of guilt that it hadn’t been his idea at all. Trent might make him feel just as guilty. Or, Bryan thought grimly, Trent knew him better than that, and would suspect that it was Jess’s suggestion.
“How’s work been?” Aidan asked.
He glanced at her. Her gaze still focused on the fire.
“Busy.” He was beginning to feel the cold of the night air.
“I haven’t been reading the papers,” she continued. “Have you caught the person who killed those three women?”
Bryan’s jaw tightened and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “No, and it’s four.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw her turn her head to look at him.
“You hate your job. So why do you do it?”
“Someone has to.” She ducked her gaze away, and he felt that guilt again at speaking so gruffly. “I didn’t always hate it,” he said in a softer tone.
“No,” she said in agreement. “You and Trent like to help people.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” he said dryly.
“You don’t think so?” She held his gaze, and the fire in her eyes mystified him. He told himself it was just the glow in the distance.
“I can’t stop a serial killer from hunting in my city. What kind of help is that?”
Aidan shrugged. “Those men out there couldn’t stop that fire from claiming that building. They’re not helping anyone?”
The muscle in Bryan’s jaw twitched. She had that cool and reasonable sense that Bryan found annoying in Trent. In a simple parallel, she had managed to rationally tear down his self-pitied moping. He smiled grimly to himself. No wonder Trent liked her so much.
“My friend is dying and I can’t stop that either,” Aidan said, a ring of sadness in her voice. “But when I sit with him and make him laugh, I believe I’m helping him.” She shivered and looked up with a tentative smile. “Do you have Thanksgiving off? Or will you be working like Trent?”
The switch looked as though it came so easy for her. One moment she could be indulging the sullen and depressing feelings of a crushing reality, and the next she could be smiling about holidays and turkey with dressing. What was the secret that everyone else seemed to know that he didn’t? Or was that the secret itself? Perhaps that’s what Jess meant earlier when she said she needed to keep thinking about Thanksgiving, because if she didn’t, she’d end up tangled in a web of dark thoughts that she couldn’t escape. He had let himself fall victim to such a trap. He needed to get out. He had been ignoring Trent, unwilling to bring the darkness of his job near him, because that’s all Bryan could think about.
Tonight though, that darkness could have touched his brother without Bryan needing to be the one to bring it. All his efforts to protect Trent were in vain, and he realized them for what they were: a shield to give himself the space and solitude to self-indulge in brooding. What a fool he was.
Bryan swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “My partner’s sister invited me to have dinner with her family. They have two kids. I might go.”
Aidan’s smile relaxed. “I volunteered to make cookies for the firehouse. There are eight sheets of tin foil at home with cookies cooling on them. Unless Phoebe gets so nervous she eats one of the sheets.” Her smile curved wryly. “Trent was right: baking for a firehouse is a lot of work and a lot of cleanup.”
“You don’t spend Thanksgiving with your family?” Bryan asked.
“They’re in Colorado. They understand that I want to stay in town with Chris until…well, until the cancer’s over.”
Bryan frowned at the phrasing. “Trent hasn’t told me much,” he said, and then checked himself. “I haven’t been available for him to. There isn’t much chance of a remission?”
Aidan looked at the ground. “None. The doctors say he maybe has three months.”
“I’m sorry,” Bryan said, and realized how hollow it sounded, just like the first time he had said it to her: “I’m sorry for your loss.” Only that time he hadn’t really thought about the words—it was a rehearsed line.
“I should have realized it before tonight,” she said. “How important each day is. I’ve been doing things in light of that in regards to Chris, because I know each day is important with him. I didn’t realize the same for Trent, or for anybody else really. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Bryan felt the same pain in his own heart. No, he agreed, neither will I.
***
Trent shut down the nozzle and let out a big sigh of exhaustion. The fire was finally extinguished—live flame anyway. They would need to take power saws to the walls to make sure nothing had retreated into them where it could fester and wait for a revival. It had been a long and terrible battle, compounded by the fact that two firemen had been seriously injured. The knowledge of fellow men trapped inside a burning building hit everyone hard, added a sense of panic to an already intense job.
The stench of burnt plastic and chemicals assaulted Trent’s senses, and the heat from his coat and helmet left his skin burning. He and Sam carried the hose back to the engine truck, their boots sloshing through standing water. Trent took his helmet and gloves off, and the cold night air hit him like a fist. It was painfully refreshing.
Frank broke away from the ring of fire captains and lieutenants to talk with his own men.
“How’re Neil and Greg?” Trent asked.
“Neil’s got a broken leg and some second degree burns,” Frank said. “Greg’s got a few broken ribs and smoke inhalation.”
Trent grimaced. Aside from burns, those two injuries combined were a nightmare to weather. The accident shouldn’t have happened, but sometime in the past, one of the stores had done some remodeling and changed the structure of the roof in that spot. So when the trusses failed, the precautions the men had set up based on the building’s original blueprints didn’t hold. It was a grim, but common reality.
“Trent,” Frank said. “Your brother’s here.”
“Really?” Trent looked up in surprise.
Frank handed him a bottle of water. “Go reassure him before we get started on the overhaul.”
“Thanks.” Trent took his coat off to get a brief respite from its heat before he’d need to don it again for the work that still lay ahead. His muscles ached, and he walked stiffly across the parking lot to the edge of the police line. He smiled at the sight of Aidan there too. Had they come together?
“Were you worried about me?” Trent said in a light manner.
“We heard about the two firemen trapped,” Bryan replied.
Trent looked at Aidan. She seemed okay, waiting patiently behind the line.
“You smell like smoke.” A playful smile burst across her face. “Nice,
real, strong smoke.”
Trent grinned, but his muscles pulled at the raw heat burns on his face and he winced.
“Are you okay?” Bryan asked.
“After a shower, a meal, and twelve hours of sleep, yeah, I’ll be okay.” Trent studied Bryan, and took note of his car several feet behind them. He didn’t see Aidan’s car, so he must have driven her here. That was thoughtful…did she ask him to? “I am very glad to see you both though,” he said. “You’re a refreshing sight in the middle of a hectic work day.”
Aidan reached over the police tape and interlaced her fingers with his. “I made the cookies.”
Trent grinned. “Did you bring any?”
“You have to wait for Thursday.”
He feigned disappointment. “I don’t get anything?”
“What would you like?” she asked coyly.
She was beautiful in the dark, the deep shade of her hair melting into the night, her eyes flickering with the hint of embers. He sighed. “A hug would be fantastic, but I will spare you the sweat and grime.”
She rubbed her thumb in his palm thoughtfully. Then she tugged him toward her and leaned over the police tape to kiss him. She was sweet and gentle, like the whisper of a wind brushing his lips. When she leaned back, he saw her try to bite back a smile. He didn’t bother to hide his.
“How’s that?” she asked.
“Much better.” He wanted to pull her back, intensify that kiss into something deeper, but he remembered that his brother was standing there. “I need to get back to work,” Trent said reluctantly.
“Okay. Call me after you’ve had that shower, food, and sleep.” Aidan squeezed his hand once more before releasing it.
He smiled. “Yeah.”
“Be careful,” Bryan said.
“You taking her home?”
Bryan nodded.
“Thanks.” He turned around and walked back to the building. They had hours of work ahead of them, salvaging, overhauling the roof to make sure nothing was hiding in it, and determining the cause of the fire. But Aidan’s kiss had given him something else to think about while he worked, and had definitely stirred an energy inside him that just might get him through the rest of the shift.
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