Fire and Ice (Firemen do it Hotter Book 1)

by Cheyenne McCray

  Jakowski said, “You’ll never get to them in time. This whole building is going to go.”

  “I will.” Grady glanced over his shoulder. “Three minutes, in and out.”

  Jakowski nodded right before Grady plunged into the fire, moving as fast as he could to the area yet to be ravaged by flames.

  His heart beat faster, but his mind was clear. He reached Sandy and Spot. The Dalmatian barked as Grady scooped up Sandy, who moaned and her eyelids fluttered as she choked on more smoke.

  He turned to head back in the direction they had just come.

  Flames consumed everything in the room. Debris rained down a moment before another beam crashed through the massive hole in the ceiling, shaking the floor.

  The floor was starting to give in. It creaked and groaned.

  Grady swept his gaze one more time around the area in front of him. A beam that had crashed through the ceiling rested against one wall. The angle of the beam left just enough space to duck through. Spot barked and led the way.

  Grady carried Sandy in his arms. He reached the beam and dropped to his knees to crawl beneath it, moving her in front of him as he push-crawled.

  The heat was nearly overwhelming. Grady scrambled out from beneath the beam, picked up Sandy, and eased her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. He saw the open door and Jakowski through a wall of flames.

  A thought went through his mind over and over. I have to get back to Chelsey. I can’t leave her alone like her husband did.

  He admitted something to himself that he hadn’t before.

  I love Chelsey.

  I will get home to her.

  Grady’s heart thundered, yet he was calm at the same time. No way was he going to end up trapped in a fire and not save Sandy and Spot.

  The ceiling shuddered and groaned. Grady ran in the only direction he could—for the door.

  He emerged from the flames and with relief handed Sandy off to Jakowski. Spot stood just in front of Grady, barking as if telling him to hurry.

  A yawning roar and the ceiling collapsed.

  Flaming debris fell just as a beam slammed onto Grady’s legs and drove him to the floor.

  Grady’s vision blurred as his mask ripped away from his face and all air was knocked from him.

  Smoke crowded his lungs and he choked, his eyes watering. He tried to crawl forward but pain screamed through him. His legs were not only trapped beneath the beam, but they were probably broken as well, including his ankle.

  “Fuck.” He could barely choke out the word. The room grew hotter, the smoke denser.

  “Hold on.” Craig crouched in front of Grady a moment before he disappeared from sight.

  Craig worked to shove the beam off Grady’s legs, and he bit back a shout from the excruciating pain.

  The smoke was so thick, that Grady came closer and closer to losing consciousness.

  Another firefighter entered the room. Grady could only tell it was Marc by the name patch sewn onto his gear.

  “You need to get out of here,” he shouted at Craig and Marc. “This place is going to go.”

  “Shut the fuck up and let us do our job,” Craig shouted.

  Spot tugged on Grady’s sleeve, and he almost gave a delirious laugh at the seriousness in the dog’s actions and the growls coming from his throat.

  “It’s okay, boy.” Grady had a coughing fit before he spoke to Spot again. “They’ll get this damned thing off of me and we’ll make it out.”

  The room vibrated. The floor made an ominous sound.

  Marc and Craig shoved the beam off of Grady’s legs and he almost screamed and blacked out from the pain.

  The men grasped him by the arms.

  “Legs are broken,” Grady managed to get out. His thoughts flashed to Chelsey again.

  “We’ve got you,” Craig said, voice muffled by his mask.

  They dragged him out of the apartment just as the floor caved in.

  13

  Chelsey hummed to herself as she kneaded dough for homemade bread on the countertop while she watched a morning show. Or rather while the TV hosts and their guests rattled on, sounding like nothing more than white noise in the background.

  It had been an amazing whirlwind since she had first met Grady. They spent all the time they could together, as well as going out with friends that were becoming mutual friends. They’d gone out with Craig and the girl he was dating, as well as Sandy and her latest man. Sandy was a lot like Chelsey’s sisters—always dating someone new. One day all three of them were bound to settle down, just not likely at the same time.

  Chelsey kneaded the dough even faster as she thought of all the fun times they’d had over the two months since their first date. And making love to Grady—she could do that every day, multiple times a day, and never get tired of it.

  A smile touched her lips as she kneaded the dough. He enjoyed her fresh baked bread and rolls, and she made sure she had some on hand whenever he was around. Which was pretty much daily. He always told her how much he loved them.

  Love. She paused for a moment as heat flushed her body. She had no doubt in her mind that she was in love with him. Totally, irrefutably, head-over-heels in love. She had loved her husband, but this was different. It was more intense, soul deep.

  She felt the depth of her love in her chest, like a blossoming thing that only grew more powerful every day. It was the kind of love that could devastate her if something went bad. The kind of love that built her up so that she was sky high…but could also tear her down and destroy her.

  The thought made her go still. A shadow crossed her heart, as if something bad was going to happen. She swallowed. The feeling was so strong she nearly shook from the power of the deep impression it made on her soul.

  “What in the world?” She stopped kneading and put her flour-covered fingertips to her temples. Pain pierced her head for a moment and her vision swam. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.

  The last time she had felt like this was the day her husband had died in that mine shaft.

  Her heart thudded and her throat grew dry. A prickling sensation traveled from her scalp to her toes. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it wouldn’t go away.

  She raised her chin. “Nothing will or has happened.” She said the words defiantly, but they came out hollow.

  The best thing to do was to call Grady, just to calm her ridiculous nerves. Before she could reach for it, the phone rang.

  A knot crowded her throat, but then she saw that it was Sandy, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  She answered with a “Hey there,” just as the talking heads on the morning show disappeared to be replaced by footage of an apartment building on fire. Grady’s and Sandy’s complex.

  “I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Sandy started at the same time Chelsey said, “Oh, my God.”

  “You know?” Sandy sounded concerned.

  Chelsey stared at the screen, watching smoke pouring from the building, and fire reaching for the sky. She could barely speak. “A fire. Your apartment. On TV.”

  “Yes.” Sandy coughed, a deep hacking cough, then rushed on. “Grady’s alive. Spot is all right, too.”

  It barely clicked for Chelsey. Sandy had just said, “Grady’s alive.” Why choose those words if something hadn’t gone wrong?

  Panic crawled up Chelsey’s throat. “What happened to Grady?” She stared at the TV screen and saw a Dalmatian following a stretcher with a firefighter strapped to it. She knew the man was a firefighter because he had on one of those coats they wore.

  Her heart felt like it dropped to her feet. By the unusual horseshoe spot on his rump, she could tell it was definitely Spot who followed the stretcher and paramedics.

  “He’s all right,” Sandy’s voice sounded husky with tears. “He saved my life and the lives of others. He was injured, but he’s okay.”

  “Where are you? Where is he?” Chelsey gripped the phone tighter, her heart thundering, tears threatening to fall. “I
need to know.”

  “We’re at St. Elizabeth’s.” Sandy coughed again, then gave Chelsey her room number along with Grady’s.

  Sandy started to say something else, but Chelsey interrupted her. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m on my way.”

  Chelsey disconnected the call and bolted to her bedroom, where she kept her purse. Her heart thundered and her skin had gone cold even though the house was warm.

  Thoughts spun in her mind. She could hear the man on the other end of the line, who had called to tell her that George had died in a mineshaft collapse.

  The shock had driven her to her knees. She sat on the floor, listening to the disembodied voice give her his condolences, telling her that the wheels would be put into motion to make sure she got his insurance check and his last paycheck.

  Chelsey hadn’t given a damn about either. When a class action lawsuit was filed against the mining company, she had signed some papers with the attorneys and ended up with a considerable settlement. She hadn’t wanted it, but she also felt that maybe she could do some good with it. So she had it stashed away in a bank account that she’d forgotten about for the most part until now.

  She forced thoughts from her mind—she didn’t want to think about George’s death. It was a painful memory, and it belonged in the past.

  At the same time, thoughts of Grady made her whole body numb and weak. She paused for a moment to catch her breath before hurrying out into the garage for her car.

  * * *

  Chelsey trembled with fear for Grady as she walked through the hospital, headed to Grady’s room. Sandy hadn’t said anything about him being in intensive care. She hadn’t learned that until she reached the hospital.

  First thing after she arrived, the nurses had her go to the waiting room, where several firefighters, including Craig and Marc, had come to support Grady. Craig explained to Chelsey how Grady had saved not only Spot’s and Sandy’s lives, but the life of his neighbor, Carla. Spot did receive most of the credit for saving Carla, and Spot had been the one to lead Grady to Sandy as well.

  Craig and the other firefighters tried to help bump up her spirits, but she couldn’t get herself to smile. She talked with each of the five men briefly before she was told she could go to Grady.

  She left the waiting area, and headed toward Grady’s room. She stopped abruptly in the hallway, unable to move, her limbs feeling as heavy and solid as stone. What if Grady was close to death? Why else would he be in the ICU?

  Dear God. She didn’t think she could go through losing another man she loved. It was her worst nightmares and fears come to life.

  She took a deep breath, trying to control her breathing and the sickness in her belly. Her skin felt clammy, as if she was coming down with the flu.

  No matter what happened in the future, she had to go to him now. Grady needed her. She would worry about everything else later.

  Chelsey needed to see Sandy, too, but would go to Grady first. Then she’d find Spot and give him a big hug and a giant soup bone.

  She walked hesitantly down the ICU hallway, afraid to get closer to Grady’s room. It was if he might die if she went in there.

  When she reached his room, for a long moment she stood outside, barely daring to breathe. Windows lined the room he was in, but the curtains were drawn.

  A woman in scrubs came up to Chelsey. She glanced at the nurse’s nametag that had Irene Johnson across it. Chelsey looked from the tag to Irene, who had hard lines on her face and thin lips.

  Nurse Irene’s voice was sharp and matter-of-fact. “Mr. Donovan may only have family visitors at this time.”

  Responses shot through Chelsey’s mind, and she blurted out the first that came to her. “I’m Grady’s fiancée.

  The nurse eyed Chelsey with suspicion, then nodded. “Ten minutes. He needs his rest, and I understand he has family coming in from Seattle. But since you’re his fiancée, you are probably aware of that.”

  Chelsey gave a weak smile. “I’ll keep my time in his room short.”

  “Good.” Irene went up to the door and peeked in. “Mr. Donovan, your fiancée is here to see you.”

  Chelsey’s face burned, but she straightened her posture. How did he feel about her pretending to be his fiancée?

  Irene turned back to Chelsey. “Ten minutes, got that?”

  “Of course.” Chelsey moved past Irene, sucked in another deep breath, and walked inside the room.

  Her heart felt like it had crumbled into tiny pieces when she saw Grady. His skin was pale with red scrapes and bandages everywhere. Both his legs were in casts and his arm was in a sling. His eyes were glazed and he looked exhausted.

  She fought to keep the horror out of her expression.

  “You are the loveliest thing that could possibly have walked into this room.” Grady’s voice sounded weak and rough, but his lips tipped into a tired smile. “My dear fiancée.”

  Her face burned again. “I—I just told her that because…”

  “Because she wouldn’t have let you come in otherwise,” Grady finished for her. He gave a hacking cough before sinking into his pillow and adding, “I still like the sound of it.”

  “What happened?” The words barely came out of her dry throat and tears were starting to build up behind her eyes. “Your legs. Your arms—you’re bandaged everywhere.”

  He raised the hand that wasn’t in the sling. “Come here, baby.”

  She moved closer and sat in the chair beside his bed and scooted it so that her knees touched the mattress. She took his hand in hers and he squeezed it tight. His was warm and dry. “I was so scared for you,” she whispered

  “You were what kept me going.” He smiled gently. “All I could think about was coming home to you.”

  Her belly twisted. All she could think about was running away.

  14

  Grady studied Chelsey as she sat across from him at the dinner table in her home. Because his apartment was currently uninhabitable and he wasn’t mobile, she had insisted he stay with her until he got his casts off. She’d been determined, and refused to take no for an answer.

  His parents and most of his brothers and sisters, had swooped down on them when he was in the hospital. Chelsey had met all who came, and it had been clear they absolutely loved her and she felt the same way for them.

  The last month had been more than pleasant with Chelsey, but he knew something wasn’t right. He hadn’t pushed her, but it was about damned time she told him what was bothering her so much. His gut churned. What if she had decided against having a relationship with him?

  He leaned forward, both forearms on the table, since he’d been able to take off his sling after two weeks.

  His heart ached at the haunted expression in her eyes. “Something is wrong.” She hadn’t been her talkative, happy normal self since before the accident. He tried to be gentle as he spoke. “You’ve done a great job at keeping up a front and telling me you’re fine, but that’s not the truth. Is it?”

  She stared at the eggplant parmesan, fork in her hand. When she raised her head, tears glittered in her eyes. He hadn’t seen her cry once. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

  “Honey…” A burst of frustration made his entire body ache to break out of his casts like the fucking Hulk. He wanted to get up and go to her. He needed to hug her, and reassure her that everything would be fine. “If I could go to you and hold you, I would right now.”

  He ground his teeth. Of course that wasn’t possible with him being trapped in the damned wheelchair, both legs in casts.

  A tear rolled down her cheek and he thought he was going to die slowly, seeing her in so much pain.

  The urge to throw something out of sheer frustration and helplessness was almost uncontrollable. He had never felt more helpless in all his life as he did at that moment.

  “Please, sweetheart.” He set his fork down on the plate of eggplant parmesan. “Just talk to me.”

  She cleared her throat. “It’s
everything. So much. Too much.”

  He dragged his hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. It’s too much to ask you to play nursemaid.”

  “That’s not it.” She shook her head. “I have a couple of issues—hang ups.”

  He frowned. “Tell me. Whatever it is, I need to know.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ve never talked about my deceased husband, and I don’t know if you’ve heard how he died.”

  Grady shook his head. “I haven’t asked because I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you.” Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep sigh. “George worked out of state four days a week as a coalminer. One day I got a call that the mineshaft he and his team had been working in collapsed. Every one of the men died—All twenty of them.”

  “Damn.” Grady wanted to go to her so badly he felt like he would explode.

  She looked away. “After his death, I promised myself I would never get involved again with someone in a dangerous profession.”

  “And then you met me.” A hard note was in his voice. “That’s why it was so difficult for you to go on a date with me.”

  She looked back at him and gave a sad smile. “I decided I wasn’t going to let fear guide my life.” Her words sounded choked as she continued. “When I saw your apartment building on fire, and then heard you’d been hurt…”

  “It was like your husband’s death all over again,” Grady added quietly. “I’m sorry, Chelsey.”

  “I don’t know if I can do it again.” Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can give of my heart and soul completely, because I’ll always have the fear that something could go wrong at any time.”

  “I have a better chance of being in a plane crash than getting hurt on the job.” Grady tried to lighten it up. “I’ve had my once in a lifetime close brush with the great fire god.”

  “Don’t joke.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but this is too serious.”

  “You’re right.” He fisted his hand on the tablecloth before relaxing it. “I shouldn’t make light of something that matters so much to you.” He studied her. “What can I do to make you feel better about it?”