by Amie Denman
The cat enjoyed Nicole’s attention for a moment and then struggled to get down.
“Close the door behind you,” Jane said. “Want to come in for something to eat?”
“Love to, but the chief’s waiting in the truck.” He watched Nicole’s every move as she bent over to put the cat on the rug. He cleared his throat. “We have to clean hoses and write reports until dawn. Then at least one of us will be back in the morning combing through the mess with the fire inspector and probably the insurance claims person.”
Jane’s tabby cat came around the corner, back up, tail high. She saw Eddie, and a low growl emanated from her throat. Eddie bounced to his feet and fled, a black blur down the hallway, the tabby right on his tail.
Kevin rubbed his head. “Think you could keep that little devil for the night and get him back to the owners tomorrow?”
“Will you stop rubbing your cut with your filthy hands?” Jane said. “And yes, Nicole has the number where they’re staying. We’ll call in the morning and meet up with them.”
“That little girl will be so happy,” Nicole said, smiling at Kevin as if he’d just made a rainbow appear over Cape Pursuit. It was the happiest he’d seen her in the short time he’d known her. “Thank you for catching him. And for bringing him over. I can sleep now.”
“You’re welcome. I really got lucky. I dropped that flashlight you borrowed and it rolled under the truck right to the cat’s hiding place. Like it was meant to be.”
A searchlight shone through the glass on the door and toggled back and forth.
“I think my uncle’s ready to get back to the station,” Kevin said. “Can’t blame him.”
“Good night,” Nicole said.
“Night,” he replied, staring at her bare feet and nightshirt. “Thanks for bringing blankets and coffee,” he said, directing his words to both Nicole and Jane. “We always appreciate it.”
He opened the door just wide enough to slip outside, in case the cats came racing back through. As he walked down the front sidewalk toward the fire truck on the street, he had the feeling a set of green eyes was on his back. And the feeling cleared the smoke from his head and lifted his heart.
CHAPTER SIX
KEVIN PULLED THE ladder truck out of the station and parked it on the front concrete apron. He got out, slid the wheel chocks under the rear dual wheels and headed for the cab of the pumper. One by one, he pulled the pumper, light rescue pickup and heavy rescue squad out and parked in front of the station’s four bays. He drove the Jeep with the dive trailer and then three ambulances out the huge overhead doors in the back, totally clearing out the Cape Pursuit fire station.
“You’re serious about cleaning,” Tyler Ruggles remarked. “Something on your mind?”
“Tracked in sand from that call on the beach and lots of debris from the house fire two nights ago,” Kevin said. “This place is a mess.” He used a wide broom and made passes across the concrete.
His brother opened the rear doors of the ambulance. He sat on the bench seat in the back of the vehicle, clipboard on his lap, and reached into cabinets with sliding doors. Kevin knew he was inventorying every bandage, mask, tube and sterile pad. It was part of the daily drill.
“You’re off in an hour,” Tyler remarked. “Hope you plan to finish your housecleaning and put all the trucks back.”
“Nope,” Kevin said. “I plan to leave you with a mess. Payback for sharing a room with you for fifteen years. Does your wife put up with your pigsty habits?”
Tyler rubbed his forehead while simultaneously flipping off his younger brother. “Does your fat old dog like your neat-freakery?”
“Arnold’s not fat,” Kevin said. “He’s just short.”
Kevin unrolled a hose from a hanger on a post by the large overhead doors. He started by an entry door leading into the bunk room and offices and continued hosing a careful pattern over the wide floor. Drains ran front to back between the parking bays, and Kevin directed the stream toward them. He rolled up the hose and then got a wide squeegee from a hook, using a long, sweeping stroke to shove the remaining water off the station floor.
His brother leaned against the water rescue trailer, arms crossed, watching. “You need a wife,” Tyler commented. “And some kids. You’d learn to appreciate a mess that way.”
“When I’m chief someday, I’m going to make you do this,” Kevin told him. He got in the cab of the heavy rescue truck and backed it slowly into the station. He followed it with the pumper. As he went outside and pulled the wheel chocks from under the rear tires of the ladder truck, he caught a glimpse of a blonde woman on a bicycle.
She slowed then stopped by the door of the truck, planting both her feet. She smiled. Kevin’s heart raced as if he were responding to a five-alarm fire.
“Hi,” she said. “Are you leaving on an emergency call?”
Kevin tossed the rubber chocks in the cabinet over the rear wheels. “No, I was just cleaning the station floor.”
Nicole glanced at the wide brick fire station with its bay doors in the front and back standing open.
“Quite a job,” she commented.
“Trying to stay awake for the last part of my shift,” Kevin said. “It was a long night.”
“Again?”
“It goes in streaks,” Kevin said. He leaned against the front fender of the massive ladder truck. “Did you have any trouble getting the cat back to the girl’s family?”
Nicole smiled. “Nope. We called the next morning and they came by to pick him up. You should have seen that little girl’s face. I told her the nice fireman rescued the cat.”
“A bit of an exaggeration.”
“I thought it might make her feel better. You never know what part of an event a child will focus on. I’m hoping she remembers her house cat getting a ride in a fire truck. I glamorized that part a little bit for her sake.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, pointing at her bike. “I could give you a ride in the fire truck. If nobody’s looking.”
Nicole laughed. “Better not. It’s my first day off from the gallery. This is my only mode of transportation right now unless I ride with Jane.”
Kevin bit his lip. “I hate to ask how much longer until they put the door back on your car.”
“And replace the windshield. And repaint that whole side,” Nicole said.
“Did I mention how sorry I am?”
She smiled. “I figured it out. Did you get your rescue truck fixed?”
Kevin pointed through the station to the ambulances parked side by side. Their body styles and sizes were different. One had wide tires and a heavy truck frame; the other two were smaller and lighter. The smaller ones might have made it past Nicole’s car, but the big one hadn’t stood a chance.
“It hardly got scratched,” he said, gesturing at the larger one. “Never had to take it out of service.”
“Lucky for it.”
Kevin nodded. Scratched his jaw. Shifted his feet. “So what are you doing on your day off?”
“Beach. Just like all the tourists.” She shrugged. “I’m from Indianapolis, so the ocean is a treat.”
“I grew up here, and I never get tired of it,” he said. He would also never get tired of Nicole’s eyes and the way her face softened when she smiled. If only he could start over with her.
A loud ringing in the station echoed through the open bay doors. A dispatcher intoned an ambulance call for a possible heart attack at one of the hotels along the strip. Tyler and another officer barreled out an interior door and headed for the smaller ambulance.
“We got this one, baby brother,” Tyler yelled. “Don’t want you to have to take off your cleaning apron.” He got in the cab of the ambulance and pulled out the back of the driveway, lights flashing and siren blaring.
“Baby brother?” Nicole asked.
“T
yler is three years older than I am and he never lets me forget it. He’s my best friend, but he’s a pain in the rear.”
Something changed in Nicole’s face. Her eyes dropped and her smile faded. Maybe she didn’t like hearing people complain about their relatives. If that was the case, she wouldn’t want to make a habit of hanging around the fire department where they acted like one big family and many of them were, in fact, related.
“Believe it or not, my uncle is the chief and my cousin Tony is in the department. If we ever had a family feud, this place would be a mess.”
“It sounds like this—” she waved her hand at the trucks and station “—is a family tradition for you.”
Her voice was flat, as if she were showing her kitchen to someone and explaining where she kept the baking soda. Kevin did not consider her attitude encouraging, and he wondered what it would take to impress her. Finding the cat had helped, but Nicole seemed to have a wall when it came to him—or was it his profession? His colleagues operated on the assumption that women were enthralled by their uniforms, but Kevin’s one long-term relationship so far had ended partially because of his dedication to his job. But she’d left him Arnold. The dog was more understanding of his late nights and smoke-stained clothes than Janelle had ever been.
“At least my brother doesn’t outrank me,” Kevin said, attempting to lighten the mood. “And I’m trying to make sure he never does. I’m going to take classes in fire science this fall and get my degree so I can jump in front of him in line for promotion.”
“Good plan,” she said, again with the here’s-my-canola-oil-shelf tone.
The bunk room door opened and Captain Dan Bauer came out. Kevin waved at him as he climbed into one of the trucks on the rear apron. He backed it into the station and closed the overheard door before moving on to the next one.
“You should probably get back to work,” Nicole said.
Kevin nodded. “Nice of the captain to help out, but I should get things put away before I leave for the day.”
Nicole put one foot on her bike’s pedal.
“If you want the opinion of a local,” Kevin said, “I’d go past the Oceanfront Hotel and use the beach entrance by the big mermaid statue. Not as many tourists down that far.”
Nicole smiled. “That’s the same thing Jane said.”
Kevin wanted to reach out and touch the exposed skin on her arm. Brush his fingers over her full lips. Feel her hair against his cheek.
“See you around,” she said. She rolled away, unknowingly preventing Kevin from making a fool of himself.
* * *
NICOLE LOCKED HER borrowed bike on a rack by the giant mermaid statue. Jane had told her part of the legend of Cape Pursuit. While being chased by a rival, a pirate had stashed his gold somewhere along the shore. One version of the tale claimed he took to the sea for his own safety. Another said it was supposedly because he was in love with a mermaid. Of course it was a local legend, but there were those who believed the treasure might be somewhere just waiting to be discovered. More than the idea of riches, Nicole liked the story of how the pirate gave up his treasure to return to the woman he loved.
Pausing under the mermaid statue, she skimmed the engraved sign with a tourist-friendly version of the romantic story. The mermaid herself, made of copper grown green with age, leaned on a rock and looked wistfully out to sea. Her tail curled elegantly around the base of the statue, but it was her eyes that dug into Nicole’s imagination. She’d have to get a few pictures of the statue when the midday light softened.
She slung her striped beach bag over one shoulder, took off her sandals and held them in her free hand. She had only taken a dozen or so pictures in the few weeks she’d been in Cape Pursuit, and looking at the view reminded her it was time to remove her lens cap and start seeing the world in a fresh way.
The Atlantic Ocean was one of the most beautiful things she’d seen. Nicole crossed the sand, feeling it squish between her toes. When was the last time she’d had a foot rub or bothered to pamper herself at all? She chose a spot on the sand, spread out a green blanket and sat, knees drawn up in front of her. She pulled her camera from the bag, got out the water bottle and book, and settled in to enjoy hours of solitude.
Balancing the camera on her knees, she focused on a gray-and-white seagull walking stiff-legged across the sand. A bright red surfboard nosed up on the beach. A weather-beaten wooden pier stretching into the water. Two boys throwing a ball. A mother and small daughter holding hands and wading into the ocean.
She zoomed in on the water next, its azure waves lapping at the sand. She took a string of pictures, promising herself she’d open them on her computer later and play with the lighting and color. Editing was one of her favorite parts of photography. She loved taking something that existed for a moment in time and improving it. That was where her artist’s streak came in, and she wished life could be improved so easily. She’d love to change the colors and textures of her past—making some of them disappear and some of them shine more brightly forever—if only she could.
Maybe she should take Jane up on the offer to display her photographs in the gallery. Perhaps it was the next step, part of her journey to filter the past and focus on where she wanted to be.
The sun touched her bare shoulders. The breeze cooled her face and kept her hair off her neck. She sighed, looking as far over the ocean as she could see.
On the other side of the Atlantic, Italy waited for her. Her dream vacation. Under the sun in Tuscany, beneath fields of sunflowers, beside ancient villas, along the sparkling Mediterranean. It was there waiting for her to rebuild her courage and repurchase the plane ticket she’d forfeited last summer when her brother was killed.
“What are you thinking about?”
She glanced up, startled at the voice right over her head. It was Kevin. He stood barefoot on the sand, blue uniform pants cuffed a few inches, heavy black boots in one hand. He blocked the sun and his face was deeply shadowed.
“Italy,” she said.
“Mind if I share your spot?”
Nicole shook her head, and Kevin sat next to her on the blanket, spreading his long legs in front of him. “Never been to Italy.”
“Me neither.”
“But I’m guessing you want to,” he said. He leaned close and looked at her camera. He smelled like a man who worked for a living, a little salty mixed with something like engine oil or exhaust. The breeze whispered between them, but he was still very close. A shadow darkened his jaw. Nicole pictured him sleeping at the fire station, not bothering to shave.
“That’s a nice camera,” he said. His voice was low, but he was so close that she heard it just fine.
The breeze blew a lock of her hair across his cheek.
“Would you like to look at my pictures?” she asked.
She’d had no intention of showing anyone these pictures a minute ago. At least not until she’d filtered and edited them. The string of images were like a stream of consciousness glimpse inside her brain. Her impressions. Her art. Personal.
But something about Kevin made her trust him enough to offer him a flip-through on the LCD screen.
“Love to. You have to show me how to work it, though. I don’t even own a camera. Usually just use the one on my phone if I need a picture of something.”
She handed over the Nikon, which she’d spent a fortune on when she was looking forward to and planning the trip of a lifetime with Jane. They had sketched out the whole ten-day journey. Art galleries where Jane could see the master painters, scenic day trips for photography and fun. A wine tour.
Adam was killed right before their departure, and their plans were crushed. Nicole had encouraged Jane to go without her, arguing that an artist owed herself the chance to see the European masters. Jane had deferred, claiming she’d purchased the travel insurance and would get her money back. She put all the funds
into improving her gallery instead and suggested they go another time.
Nicole wasn’t sure when she’d be ready to pursue her dream of going to Italy. Each day in Cape Pursuit was a chance for a new beginning, but she had a long way to go.
“It’s not hard,” she told Kevin, settling the camera in his outstretched hands. His hands were giant compared to hers and he held the camera as if it would explode if he pushed the wrong button. “Just use this dial to scroll through the pictures. Go as fast or slow as you want.”
He shaded the LCD screen with one hand and took his time looking at each picture before moving on to the next.
“Really good,” he said.
“Thanks. Do you have a hobby? Something you do when you’re not saving the world?”
Kevin smiled, showing even, white teeth with a hint of a dimple in his cheek. “I don’t usually save the world,” he said. “Seventy-five percent of my job is less dramatic than it seems. Most problems will resolve themselves if you give them time.”
Nicole nodded.
“But I do have a hobby,” he said. “I paint.”
“You do?” she exclaimed. She could not picture Kevin painting a beach scene or a sailboat in the bay at sunset. Kevin in a painting smock making delicate brush strokes on canvas? “That’s a surprising habit for someone who is so...”
“So what?”
Rats. She was thinking masculine. Manly. Muscular. “Busy,” she said.
“We work twenty-four on, twenty-four off most of the time, sometimes twelve or thirty-six off, depending on the rotation. That’s plenty of time off for me to paint houses on the side.”
Oh. That explains it. Nicole laughed. “You paint houses?”
He wrinkled his forehead. “What did you think I painted? Pictures?”
“Yes.”
