A Firefighter's Ultimate Duty

by Beverly Long

  * * *

  Daisy woke up with her head in Blade’s lap. “Hey,” he said, his voice raspy.

  “Hey,” she answered. She scrambled to sit up. She was so not good in these high stress situations. Just not wired for it. “I’m sorry.”

  “No worries,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  “Embarrassed,” she admitted. “You’re the one who was in danger. And you’re...fine. You’re fine, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “The fire?” she asked, turning to look at the building.

  “Out. We’ll watch it for a while, make sure it doesn’t reignite. Reinforcements have arrived.”

  She looked over his shoulder. There were at least another four firefighters on the scene. “Here comes Charlie,” she said, watching the man walk toward them. “He doesn’t look happy.”

  “Yeah, probably not,” Blade said.

  “Everything okay here?” Charlie asked.

  “She’s good,” Blade said. “I’m good.”

  “There’s a truck going back. Why don’t the two of you get in it?”

  It was technically a suggestion, but didn’t sound like one. Blade stood up and held out a hand for Daisy. She took it and stood. She still felt a little nauseous and tense.

  What a day. When she’d seen firefighters running for equipment, she’d gotten out of the truck and followed them. They were trying to break through a concrete block wall, and the only reasonable conclusion was that Blade was trapped. It had probably taken them less than two minutes to bust through, but the seconds had dragged on.

  She’d seen the first person transferred out through the hole and her heart had almost stopped. When she’d realized it wasn’t Blade, she’d gotten even more frightened. Was he in some other part of the building? Was he already dead? And then she’d seen him crawl out, and well, for first time in her life, she truly understood the phrase my knees buckled because hers surely had. She’d gone down like a deflated balloon.

  She and Blade got in the truck. She had a thousand questions, but wasn’t sure where to start or what was appropriate to ask. And she was fairly confident her voice was no longer steady. So, she kept her mouth shut on the drive back to the fire station.

  “I should go,” she said once they were out of the truck.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

  “I am. Is the man you saved going to be okay?”

  “I think so. I saw them getting him into an ambulance as we were leaving.”

  She turned to go. Then turned back to him. “I just have to tell you that your time inside that burning building was the most difficult minutes of my life. Well, maybe the minutes of active labor were more difficult, but that was sixteen years ago and my memory isn’t what it used to be.”

  He laughed. A big laugh. “Thank you, Daisy. After today, I needed that. And I’m sorry if I in any way made you remember childbirth.”

  She felt drained. Yet oddly exhilarated. She’d watched a man save two other men, literally carry them out of the fire. It was the most courageous act she’d ever witnessed. Compared to that, her life contributions certainly paled. In all fairness, most peoples’ life contributions wouldn’t stack up all that well. She didn’t know how to tell him that. So she segued into what she could more easily discuss. “I took some photos. I’ll work on them tonight.”

  She would never have been able to do what he did today. But the one thing she could do right now was create an amazing Spring Spectacular campaign to make sure that others got to see the Knoware Fire Department, see their commitment, their bravery. That could open a spigot of money that might help them for many years to come.

  “You’re off tomorrow, right?” she asked.

  “I am.”

  “You should probably get some rest.”

  “I’m fine,” he assured her.

  She wasn’t sure if she believed him, but there was no use arguing. “I’ll see you later.”

  * * *

  There were about ten things he wanted to tell Daisy but now wasn’t the time. It had been a tough call. He was trained to respond to emergencies and to stressful situations; she was not. She was undoubtedly shook. Right now was not the best time for her to deal with him trying to take their relationship to another place.

  But he intended to have that conversation. He liked Daisy Rambler. A lot.

  A truck rolled into the third bay, and he saw Charlie get out. He mentally prepared himself for what he knew was coming. He hadn’t done anything that Charlie wouldn’t have done, but that probably wasn’t going to make a difference.

  “Ms. Rambler leave?” Charlie asked.

  Before she’d been Daisy. Suddenly she was Ms. Rambler. “Yes.”

  “Good. Grab a glass of water for both of us, and then why don’t you come to my office for a minute.”

  Blade did as instructed. Once he’d handed Charlie his water and closed the door behind him, Charlie sat back in his chair. “I checked your tank. You were almost out of air.”

  “I know.” It had been really close.

  “You said you were exiting the building. That’s what we expected.”

  “I know, Charlie. But then I saw a door and I just couldn’t go until I’d cleared the space. Once I found the man, I moved as quickly as I could, but then the second floor came through.”

  “You were smart to get back to the outside vent. It made it easy for us to find you,” Charlie said, somewhat grudgingly. “Only had to punch one hole through.”

  “You did a good job with that.”

  “Don’t try to butter me up. You were lucky today, Savick.”

  “I’ll take luck any day,” he said.

  “What’s going on between you and Ms. Rambler?”

  Ms. Rambler again. Blade instantly felt defensive on her account. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

  “The question is a two part, but I’ll talk slow to make sure you’re getting it,” Charlie said sarcastically. He knew that Blade knew exactly what he was asking. “My question is why was she the first person you looked for when you emerged from that hole, and why did she take a swan dive upon seeing you?”

  “I...uh...felt responsible for her being at the fire. I wanted to assure myself of her safety.”

  “Uh-huh. Part two of my question?” Charlie prodded.

  “She’s a civilian. She got...overcome.”

  Charlie studied him. “If you were any other idiot in that chair right now, I’d be easily convinced that you might have been stupid today because you were trying to impress a woman. But I think more of you than that. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “You’re right,” he said. He knew where Charlie was going. Firefighters without the right motivation were dangerous. To themselves and others.

  “Okay. Then we’re done talking about it. Drink your water. You’re probably dehydrated.”

  “Thank you, Charlie.”

  The man nodded. “You saved lives today,” he said, his voice gruff. “Count that as a win.”

  Chapter 9

  Daisy woke up the next morning when Sophie barged into her bedroom. “I can’t find my shoes,” her daughter said. “And I need fifteen dollars for a Knoware High T-shirt and please, please, don’t pack carrots in my lunch.”

  Before she could answer, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Hosea. Call me in ten. I want to talk about the new product brochures.

  What new products? What brochures? Oh, God, where was her coffee?

  “Mom,” Sophie said, her voice impatient.

  Daisy sighed and crawled out of bed. She found Sophie’s shoe under the couch cushion, dug up some cash in her purse and replaced the carrots she’d packed the night before with slices of yellow pepper. That took nine minutes and she called Hosea back right on time. He launched into the topic, and it took her at least half of the convers
ation to figure out that they were talking about brochures that were in development for a new line of women’s athletic wear that the stores would be carrying.

  By the time the conversation ended, her coffee was ready. She poured a cup and looked at her watch. Once she got to work, she’d figure out which one of the graphic artists had been assigned the project and make sure that her team was on the same page as Hosea, who really shouldn’t be thinking about things like this when he had a new hip to contend with.

  For now, she could sit for five minutes, maybe add a few lines to her gratitude journal. She pulled the journal from her leather bag. She’d started this a few months ago, when she’d still been in Denver and hadn’t made the decision yet to move. Those had been dark days, and she’d been determined that it wouldn’t pull her under. She’d started the journal as a way to fight back.

  She opened it to a clean page. She began writing.

  I am grateful that the two men were successfully pulled from the fire. I am grateful that they will see more sunrises and sunsets. I am grateful for the brave firefighters who risked their lives. I am grateful for Blade Savick. I am grateful that he’s made me think that there really are good men.

  There it was. In black and white. Not that anybody else would ever see it. She was careful to protect her journal, was careful that Sophie never saw her writing in it.

  She put her pen down and thumbed through the photos on her cell phone. She’d thought about doing it the night before but, quite frankly, hadn’t quite been up to the task. Now she smiled when she came to the ones he’d taken of her trying to get on her bunker gear. Felt her heart start to beat fast when she got to the ones of the fire.

  The one of Blade carrying the man from the burning building was spectacular. Like a movie shot. Certainly the photo that they should use to kick off the campaign.

  She had a couple photos of them busting a hole through the concrete blocks. But after that, nothing. Taking pictures had been the last thing on her mind.

  Feeling inspired, she turned to her computer and started working on the email that would go to customers and employees.

  When Blade got off at nine the next morning, he met Marcus and Jamie for breakfast at Gertie’s. He’d heard from both of the men within hours of the fire at the old orphanage. Word traveled fast in this town. Both had busted his balls for being a hero, but he’d heard the genuine concern in their voices.

  After breakfast, he’d buy some groceries because Raven would be at his house that night. He might not cook a lot for her, but he always tried to keep fresh fruit and vegetables in the fridge for her to snack on, as well as staples like milk, bread, cereal and eggs.

  When Blade walked into the restaurant, he saw Jamie. On his way back to the booth, he caught Cheryl’s eye and she quickly brought a cup of coffee to the table. “Bless you,” he said.

  She smiled. “Waiting for Marcus?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll watch for him.”

  Blade and Jamie exchanged a smile. No need for close observation. Marcus had a presence about him that caused people to sit up and take notice. One of Marcus’s former girlfriends had said it was like the air changed when Marcus was in the room. Which might have sounded pretty outrageous if one hadn’t experienced it firsthand.

  And sure enough, when Marcus in full police uniform stepped into the room, almost every head turned. He greeted people as he made his way to the booth.

  “Sorry I’m a little late,” Marcus said, pushing his menu to the end of the table. None of them needed that.

  “Fighting crime?” Jamie asked.

  “I had to take Chief Ralley to the Urgent Care. Chest discomfort.”

  “That’s why we have 911,” Blade said.

  Marcus smiled. “I’ve got lights and a siren.”

  “What did they say?” Jamie asked.

  “They told him to stop eating salsa on his eggs in the morning,” Marcus said.

  “You think that’s it?” Jamie asked.

  Marcus shrugged. “You two have the medical knowledge. Not me. He seemed okay with the explanation. He’s back at his desk.”

  Cheryl walked up to the table. She had a hot tea for Marcus in one hand and a coffeepot in the other to top off Blade’s and Jamie’s coffees. She filled Blade’s to the brim but left plenty of space for Jamie to add cream. All three men ordered breakfast.

  “Any more chasing runaways?” Marcus asked, looking at Blade. “I got the rundown from Jamie,” he added. “Returning lost property. Finding missing teenagers. Those Boy Scout badges are piling up fast. Better find a seamstress or a hot glue gun so you can get them attached to your vest.”

  “Funny,” Blade said. “I...uh...have seen Daisy Rambler.”

  “Tell me you’re not stalking her,” Marcus said.

  “Almost the other way around. She’s been assigned to shadow me at the fire station.”

  “Why? What?” Marcus and Jamie spoke in unison.

  “Pratt Sports Spot is sponsoring the Spring Spectacular. She’s my cochair.”

  Marcus sat back in the booth. “You lucky dog.”

  “She was at the fire yesterday.”

  “Oh, boy,” Marcus said.

  “Having her there...” His voice trailed off.

  “What?” Jamie demanded.

  “Having her there made a difference. When I was inside the building, waiting for them to push a hole through the damn building, I was doing a bit of soul-searching.”

  None of them made fun of that. They’d all been in situations where it wasn’t always clear that they were going to come out the other side both mentally and physically whole.

  “I want a...relationship with her. And I’m out of practice,” he admitted. “I don’t want to screw this up.”

  Now that made them smile. “Tell us how we can help,” Marcus said.

  “I told her that I wanted to be friends, and she very quickly clarified that we could be friendly cochairs.” He did air quotes around the last two words.

  Cheryl delivered their food and they dug in. Finally, Jamie looked up from his pancakes. “Friendly cochairs isn’t a terrible place to start from.”

  “It’s like settling for fast food when you could have a burger at Gertie’s. Fine but really not what I want,” Blade said. These were his two best friends. He could tell them the truth.

  Marcus shrugged. “She sounds as if she might have low expectations. You have to overdeliver, reliably. You need to be the best friendly cochair she could ever have imagined. You’ll establish trust. The relationship can build from there.”

  “For now, just be a pal,” added Jamie unhelpfully.

  “I don’t want to be her pal,” Blade said, pushing his plate aside. “But I get the point.”

  “You were the one who was interested in showing her where to buy her milk and bread,” Marcus said, taking his last bite. “That sounds friendly.”

  Blade said nothing. Hard to talk when one’s teeth were clenched.

  “Definitely don’t kiss her,” Marcus said.

  “Goes without saying,” Jamie said, pulling money from his pocket.

  “Both of you were my pals,” Blade said, emphasizing the past tense. “And I never kissed either one of you.”

  Marcus stood. Looked at Jamie. “I think our work here is done.”

  Blade watched them leave. He was pretty sure both of their shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter.

  He was still trying to find the humor when he was unpacking his groceries thirty minutes later. But his priority now had to be catching a few hours of sleep. During the night, he’d slept for a few hours before the alarm had sounded and they’d been en route to an accident scene. It had been a young woman, early twenties, close enough in age to Raven that his stomach had churned the entire time they were extracting her from the vehicle. Not drunk but ad
mitted to being tired, and Blade thought it was likely she’d fallen asleep at the wheel and veered off the road, running smack-dab into a tree. She hadn’t been able to get out of the car, but had been able to reach her phone and call 911.

  The incident had taken the better part of two hours, and once he’d been back at the fire station, there was no way he was sleeping again. Every time he closed his eyes, he’d seen Raven in that driver’s seat. It had made him also think about how tired Daisy’s daughter had been when he’d seen her at the gas station. Kids were dumb, and generally thought they were invincible, not realizing that at a certain point their bodies would simply give out.

  Now he lay in his bed, determined to think about something besides teenage drivers. Thinking about Daisy Rambler was a very good alternative. Be a pal. That was the best advice his friends had been able to come up with.

  They were useless.

  Or, maybe not.

  After all, he’d jumped into a sexual relationship with Sheila. And when she’d gotten pregnant just two months later, he’d been determined that they would handle it. And both of them had tried. But it had never really been right. Perhaps if they’d have slowly developed a friendship first, it might have worked out differently.

  It felt odd that he wouldn’t see Daisy today. In just two days, he’d gotten used to having her around, to seeing his work through fresh eyes. When he’d seen her fall down at the scene, he’d been scared that she hadn’t listened to his instructions to stay in the truck and had somehow breathed in too much smoke. He’d reached her and made sure she was breathing. By that time, she’d been coming around. He hated seeing her head on the hard ground, and it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to gather her up and rest her head in his lap.

  He hadn’t been thinking about what Charlie or anyone else would think. Hadn’t been thinking about anything but Daisy. Had he been too forward? Had he jumped the bounds of friendly cochair?

  There’d been no time to talk about it afterward because she’d hightailed it out of the fire station. At that point, he’d had little time to dwell on it because he’d had to talk with Charlie and then finish his shift.