His to Defend (Lake Powell Firefighter Romance Book 2)

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His to Defend (Lake Powell Firefighter Romance Book 2) Page 9

by Jewel Allen

Worry beset me. “I’ve got to get her and the kids out of there.”

  “Out of there?” Weston frowned. “But why? Nothing like good ol’ country extermination.”

  “You better watch it, Hawk,” Hunter said, closing the oven door on another batch of donuts. “If your veterinarian lady friend hears you…”

  “Great.” Weston rolled his eyes. “It’ll give her one more thing to hate about me. I think she’s up to 126 by now.”

  “You like her that much, huh?” Ransom said, swiping his own donut from the counter this time.

  “Believe me, she’s the last person I should date. Not that I don’t think she’s cute. Oh, I think she’s gorgeous. But nah, we’re complete opposites.”

  While the rest of the crew tried to dare Weston into asking out his vet friend, I worried about Kennedy. People who were that bent on getting rid of vermin sometimes went beyond poisons and traps to guns and dynamite.

  “What do you say we do a shore drill at the Marina?” I told the crew. It wasn’t a request.

  “Sure, Cap,” Hunter was elbow deep in dirty dishes. “Any particular reason why?”

  “I thought maybe I’d pop into the Marina Motel and warn Kennedy to be careful.”

  “Hard to get all the nuances in on a phone call.” Weston winked. “Gotcha.”

  I ignored his razzing. “Get ready, guys, would you?”

  “Hey, get off his case, Weston,” Gage said, rolling the paper and thwacking him on the head. “I know for a fact that face-to-face is much better than phone calls down at the marina.”

  He was probably thinking of that time when he had a hunch to go down to the marina with the fire crew only to come across a burning houseboat…with his girlfriend Maya in it.

  The thought of possibly seeing Kennedy made my body hum with anticipation. I was sure I looked pathetic to the guys. What loser couldn’t keep his wife happy? Things had looked up since Saturday night. The memory of us almost kissing spread warmth through my chest.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kennedy

  I was on break with my co-worker LaToya in our shaded picnic area when Engine 1 pulled into the parking lot the motel shared with the marina. My pulse sped up as I caught a glimpse of Stratton in the front passenger seat.

  “Well,” LaToya declared, fanning herself. “If things didn’t get hotter around here.”

  Silently, I agreed with her. My throat felt like I needed a cool drink real fast. Especially at the sight of the fire crew jumping out in their snug dark blue station shirts and their work pants and boots. Stratton first and foremost.

  “I don’t see a fire, do you?” LaToya continued.

  “If there’s a fire, I want them to put me out.” I stammered. “I mean put it out.”

  “I hear you girl.” LaToya laughed.

  The crew pulled some hoses off the engine. Hunter and Gage stretched them toward the water, while Weston pulled an air hose out and started filling them with air. Stratton broke away from his men and walked up to where LaToya and I were sitting.

  “Heaven help me,” LaToya clutched at her blouse. “Here’s one of them.”

  Heaven help me indeed.

  Seeing Stratton stride up in his uniform reminded me of the first time I saw him training with his crew. So amazingly virile, like he could save the world single-handedly. I snapped my mouth shut to prevent myself from gaping at him.

  “Hey, Kennedy.” Stratton’s eyes were soft. Sweet. Reminding me of our near-kiss by the sink and many other real kisses over the years. He briefly admired my crossed legs in a knee-length skirt which I dare say showed them off to an advantage.

  “Hey.” I smiled weakly.

  “You know him?” LaToya mouthed.

  “Stratton, this is my co-worker, LaToya. LaToya, this is…Stratton.” I was going to say husband, but…this was so complicated.

  “Nice to meet you,” LaToya said, “Kennedy’s gorgeous friend.”

  My cheeks burned while Stratton’s eyes crinkled with amusement, like he was enjoying my discomfort.

  They shook hands. LaToya eyed him up and down. “Do you have more of you where you come from?”

  Stratton chuckled. “There’s five other guys there. I believe only one of them is spoken for.” His gaze trapped mine. “As I am.”

  I didn’t have to look over; my guess was, LaToya was swooning beside me.

  Regret filled his eyes. “I gotta head back to the guys. We’re showing the new guy how to use hose for floatation devices.”

  “Oh good,” LaToya said. “Carry on. Y’all are doing a great job.”

  Stratton smiled. “Thanks.” He hesitated, then turned to me. “I saw that article about your landlord in the paper. Have you seen it?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Well, it was about how he has been exterminating gophers on his property. I think you should consider moving out of there. He sounds like a wacko.”

  I gaped at him. “Are you serious? George is one of the sweetest guys I know. He’s been great with the kids, showing them around.”

  “Well, he may be, but the fact is, he’s a little cuckoo. People can do crazy things trying to kill critters.” He paused. “I think you should consider coming home.”

  “I see.” A coolness draped over my heart. “You want me to give up my goal just as I’m experiencing success? No, thanks. Not to mention you’re smearing my landlord in the most cruel way.”

  Stratton held up his hands. “It was in the news!”

  “So?” My voice rose. “And based on that, you’re ready to call him a wacko?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and then back at me. “Sorry, Kennedy, for ruining your day. Nice to meet you, LaToya.” He gave me one last parting glance. I looked away. “I’d better join the guys,” he muttered.

  My break was almost over anyway, so I headed inside early, still upset at Stratton’s ambush.

  LaToya was not far behind. She looked full of questions and I gave her a warning glance. Nearby, our co-worker Thomas was on the phone.

  LaToya kept her voice low. “What gives?” she asked. “Is he like your ex or something?”

  “He’s my husband.”

  Her eyes widened. “Not ex-husband?”

  “I moved out. We’re on a trial separation, I guess you could say.”

  Her mouth formed an O. “If anyone’s wacko, I would say you are, girl. You’re giving up that scrumptious man?”

  I sighed. “Not everything has to be about looks.”

  “Oh, but I’m not talking about looks.” LaToya leaned toward me. “I’m talking about him wanting to full-on defend his woman and keep her safe.”

  “Like a caveman with a club.” I snorted.

  “Well, and are you gonna fault him for that? I think that’s so sweet of him. Besides, your landlord does sound legit crazy. What exactly is he doing to exterminate gophers?”

  “I’ve seen him out there with a garden hose,” I offered.

  LaToya choked. “No way! Isn’t that animal cruelty?”

  “I don’t think so. Gophers are considered to be pests, I believe.”

  “The poor things are trying to co-exist with us humans. Give them a break.”

  I glanced pointedly at the clock. “Speaking of breaks, we’re back on duty now.”

  Thank goodness. Because the more I thought of Stratton as a caveman with a club, the more I had this urge to go to the window and watch him and his fellow Neanderthals do their fire drills.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Stratton

  Kennedy wasn’t being fair. Not only did she look stunning in her hotel uniform showcasing those long, long legs, her flashing eyes and jutted chin only served to remind me what a strong woman she’d always been.

  At the same time I wanted to shake some sense in her. Did she really think I was trying to control her? All I was doing was trying to keep her and the children safe. I went back to my crew irritated and biting everyone’s head off. They exchanged glances, like I’d lost my marb
les, which I guess I had—gone crazy over my wife.

  We finished out the drill in time; there was a call for a fire at the Big Sky Campground and RV Park. I was prepared to set aside my thoughts of Kennedy so I could focus on the upcoming work, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Kennedy was ever going to trust my good intentions.

  As we answered the call, we could see from the header from a few blocks away, the horizon turning black with smoke, fed by huge swaths of fire. Multiple units were involved and the battalion chief in command directed us to attack the unit to the far west. As we parked, other units were already working on securing the perimeter. I directed my men to take the hydrant and pull a line while I got the low-down from the Chief of Police who was on scene.

  I motioned for Weston to come with me while the rest worked the fire. “Everyone clear?” I asked one of the bystanders. In an instant, I recognized her. She was Allie, a nurse from the hospital. Or at least she had been, until she went into home health care.

  “There’s an old lady in there. Esther’s my client.” Her face crumpled. “She’s on oxygen.”

  Alarm seized me by the throat. Oxygen and fire was a dangerous combination, and we needed to get the woman out. We hurried to the rig to mask up and I ordered Hunter and Gage to turn off gas lines.

  Armed with axes, Weston and I cut into the fallen debris and entered the burning carnage. If anyone was still here, there was no chance for survival. But we had to try.

  A small misshapen figure lay on the carpet, an O2 tank tipped over on its side nearby. In that split second, I moved with decisive steps and unhooked her from the tank and lifted her, then took one step toward the door as the tank exploded behind me, knocking me and the victim forward.

  My ears rang and I didn’t know where I was. In my ear, Weston rasped, “Let’s get out of here, Cap. Come on, you’ve got to get up!”

  There was something in front of my face and when I put my hand up I realized my helmet had been knocked down over my face, though the strap still held around my neck. In the inside of the helmet was a picture I’d taped there. Kennedy and the children’s faces smiling at me from happier times. A welcoming smile, an encouraging glance. We loved each other. We would make things work between us. We needed to.

  First, I had to get out of this fire.

  I grunted as I grabbed the victim and stood, everything collapsing around us as the fire grew in ferocity. I wasn’t sure which way was out. I let Weston guide me by the arm to safety, with the elderly lady in my arms.

  We got out of the building in time for the structure to collapse, followed by a few more explosions. Hunter met us with the EMS equipment and gurney, where I deposited the woman. Ransom fussed over me, but I waved him away, intent as I was on our victim first. I held my breath as Hunter slipped the oxygen mask over the woman’s face. There was no movement in her chest, and mine squeezed with frustration too.

  How many would we lose in a row? How long had it been since we actually saved someone?

  Then she finally heaved breaths, and everyone exchanged grateful glances. Allie sobbed with relief into Hunter’s shoulder.

  “Now, Captain,” Ransom said, grinning like the teddy bear he was, “time to check you out.”

  I slumped with relief and let Ransom check my vitals.

  Hours later, after we’d put out what ended up to be three mobile homes destroyed in the fire, Lake Powell Engine 1 returned to the station. I took off my gear and cleaned up, letting the hot water from the shower run over my body for a long time. Afterwards, I joined the other guys in the game room.

  The TV was blaring with a show that didn’t matter if anyone watched or not. Gage was on the phone, probably with Maya. And I…I yearned to call Kennedy. Instead, I sat on the couch and watched the TV show.

  Why hadn’t I reached out to Kennedy when I had a chance, earlier in our marriage? Probably because of hard days like this, when I felt like a god, dictating who lived and who died. That woman’s life was in my hands. She had lived…but just as well, she could have died. Really, she wasn’t exactly out of the danger zone yet. At her age and in her condition, anything could still happen at the hospital.

  I wanted to spare Kennedy of that scary power that pulsed through my firefighter bones and the crushing pain when things didn’t turn out well.

  I got up and went to my room, where I scrounged around for a piece of paper. I wanted to express what I was feeling, but nothing came. Just a stupid blank piece of paper staring back at me. I squeezed my smoke-irritated eyes shut and neither did tears come. I was dried out, with nothing more to give.

  Like a drunk, I heaved my way through the hallway and down to the darkened workout room, finding solace in the punching bag. I punched and punched and if it were a man, I’d have killed him by now with my violence.

  I slid to the ground and hugged, then rejected the punching bag, dodging it as it swung until it stopped.

  “Cap?”

  It was Hunter. Always the one caring for the crew. He was all about baking and cooking and beyond. He kept us sane through our hardest days, through our toughest battles. Feeding our stomachs and sometimes our souls.

  I grunted.

  He sat on the bench, not facing me. Giving me space even as he invaded it. “Want to talk about it?”

  I didn’t say anything, and he didn’t push.

  “Glad she survived,” he said.

  “Me too.”

  “It was rough for Allie…and you.”

  “Rough for all of us. I’m relieved more mobile homes didn’t go up. Did you catch where everyone was staying?”

  “No, but the Red Cross found them a safe place.”

  “Good.”

  “It must be tough to be going through what you are, with your wife.”

  I thought of Kennedy’s lovely face, wishing I could hold her right now. I’d settle for a FaceTime call, or even a phone conversation at this point.

  “We’d been making inroads,” I said, remembering our near-kiss at her place, “until she blew up on me again today. And knucklehead that I was, I didn’t try to soothe her or anything. I blew right back.” I rested my arms on my thighs and hung my head. “I should know by now you can’t fight fire with fire.”

  “Sometimes, you deal with things with what you’re given.”

  “Where’d you learn this stuff?” I teased, though secretly grateful.

  “I learn a lot cooking, I guess,” came his quiet answer. “Not everything turns out perfect. But most of it does if you pay attention and if you’re patient.”

  “So far, I’ve only seen the good food you fix; don’t lie.”

  Hunter chuckled. “You don’t see the junk I end up throwing out in the back. Even the cats won’t touch it.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Hey, Cap, you have a beautiful family. They’re worth fighting for. Don’t junk everything just because of mistakes and epic fails.”

  Stupid tears squeezed out of my eyes, like when Hunter cut up onions. I didn’t even have cooking for my pathetic excuse.

  I nodded because he was so right, and I had almost been so wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Kennedy

  September turned into October as we settled into our new routine.

  Stratton and I kind of got into a holding pattern with our relationship after our argument. He hadn’t asked me out on a date again, unless you counted times when we had meals with the kids at fast food restaurants. With both of our jobs consuming us, it wasn’t like we had a lot of overlapping free time. He seemed particularly pre-occupied lately with his battalion chief prep work anyway and I admit I wasn’t exactly encouraging. I had worried over late-night texts for nothing.

  The hotel job was scary and exciting, all at the same time. I learned how to juggle multiple phone calls while checking in guests.

  When Heather called me into her office, I went in with apprehension.

  “Congratulations on a great first month.” Heather smiled. “LaToya sure enjoys
working with you and the guests are complimentary. I’ve had a lot of people say they appreciate your friendliness.”

  “Thanks.” My face warmed with pleasure. “I do my best.”

  “How are things with the family?”

  I pulled up short, wondering if LaToya had been telling her anything. “Good. Things are getting better.”

  Stratton had offered to arrange for counselling, though he said he hadn’t been able to get us in right away. I’d been too busy to do it myself, and it was easier to let things lie the same way…for now.

  “Glad to hear.” Heather stood and I did too. “When things are going well with the family, it’s easier to do one’s job.”

  I mulled on the irony of her statement as I finished out the day’s shift. I had fled to this job as a shelter from my family life.

  I got home that evening after work with the kids in tow to George poking around the gopher holes as usual.

  Ben craned his head. “Can I see what George is doing, Mommy?”

  I glanced over skeptically at George. Even though Stratton’s over-concern about George had riled and strained things further between us, I did read the article and I was a bit more watchful around the old man and my kids. “I’ll go with you, okay?”

  “Okay.” He was out of the car in a flash. Carrying Evie with me, I called out for him to wait, but he ignored me.

  “What are you doing, George?” Ben asked.

  George straightened up holding what looked like a huge firecracker in his hand almost giving me a heart attack. “Just trying out some new fireworks.”

  “Ben, come to Mommy.” My voice was hoarse.

  “Oh, don’t you worry, Mom.” George winked. “These only produce a lot of smoke, not much of a bang.”

  Ben came reluctantly and I held his hand. “He can watch from a distance. We’ll see you later, George.”

  George waved goodbye and returned to his crouching position.

  Ben tugged at my hand. “Mom, why does George hate gophers so much?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe they ruined his garden?”

 

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