Saved by the Firefighter

by Rachel Brimble

  He drove through the center of town and out the opposite side. His parents still lived in the same town, in the same house where Trent grew up. Farther along England’s southern coastline, Kingsley was a bigger and busier seaside town than Templeton. Its town center was bursting with shops, bars and restaurants that catered to thousands of tourists and holidaymakers that swept into Kingsley every summer. It was that seasonal chaos that kick-started Trent’s move to Templeton four years before. He’d just turned twenty-eight and was already established as a firefighter. A fact that his parents had been proud of.

  Proud, yet terrified. Aimee’s death paramount in their minds.

  Their constant fear had led to him eventually telling his mum and dad he was moving to Templeton. As much as he’d loved his job in Kingsley, he hankered for peace once he came off duty. That peace would never be found in his hometown.

  Aimee’s memory screamed from every corner of every street; cried in every room of their family home.

  But now he returned for a while in the hope his childhood home would be the sanctuary he needed until he could get his head around Sam’s death...and work out how to call things off with Izzy permanently.

  His biggest fear of not being able to save people had come thundering back to the surface, and Izzy would be better off well away from him. He didn’t need anyone to tell him how much her feelings would be hurt after his pursuit of her, but hearing that would be a damn sight better than letting her down further along the line.

  Which he inevitably would.

  Losing two of his friends had drawn a fat and terrifying line under that fact.

  The landscape and traffic passed by in a blur as ugly thoughts and images filled Trent’s head and fueled his anger at the world. When he eventually pulled into his parents’ driveway, he was a mess. Just as he began to worry that coming home had been a selfish decision, or would be once his parents saw his pain, the front door opened.

  His mother came out of the house with a weaved gardening basket over her arm, her wavy, light brown hair pulled back and tied in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. At fifty-seven, Linda Palmer looked ten years younger. She credited the fresh sea air for her youthfulness, but Trent didn’t accept that. People with hearts as pure as his mother’s always looked younger than people who shut their hearts to love and forgiveness.

  Which meant by the time Trent turned thirty-five, he would more than likely look forty-five.

  He pulled the keys from the ignition, yanked on the door handle and got out. He slammed the door and the sound raised his mother’s head.

  She lifted her free hand to her brow, shielding her eyes from the sun. Trent walked slowly toward her as her frown turned to a wide smile. “Oh my word, Trent. You’re home. Why didn’t you call first?” She rushed toward him and grabbed him into a bear hug that no woman of his mother’s slim build should’ve been capable of. Yet, she was. All the time. “Oh, you’ve made my day. It’s been weeks since we’ve seen you.” She pulled back and grasped his elbows. “Let me look at you.”

  Maybe he should’ve closed his eyes or looked away, but that would have doubled his guilt for running home.

  His mother’s smile vanished and instant sorrow filled her dark green eyes. “No. Oh, Trent. Who? When?”

  His mother’s eyes turned glassy and Trent swallowed against the burning in his eyes. “Sam. Today.”

  “Oh no. No, no, no.” She pulled him into her embrace and squeezed him. “You’re home now. Everything will be all right.”

  Even as he closed his eyes, Trent sensed his father approach from behind his mother. He stiffened as the hand of David Palmer, the man Trent looked up to and respected more than any other, gripped his shoulder. “Let’s go inside. Linda, come on now, let the boy inside.”

  Trent opened his eyes and met his father’s concerned gaze. Silent words passed between them before his father nodded and eased Trent from his mother’s grasp. “In you come, son.”

  His mother’s quiet sob behind him tore at Trent’s heart and conscience as his father slipped his arm around Trent’s shoulders and steered him toward the house.

  He walked into the living room ahead of his father as his mother continued along the hallway into the kitchen to make tea. The often laughable, typically English, balm to every crisis.

  His ass had barely touched the couch before his father spoke. “Who was lost this time?”

  Trent held his father’s solemn gaze. “Sam.”

  “Sam? Oh God above, I am so sorry to hear that.”

  “He was jumped on by a guy we had no idea was in the house. The guy’s dead and so is Sam. The investigators will go in, but I doubt we’ll ever really know exactly what happened in that room.” He swiped his hand over his face. “If I’d left the civilian, there’s a chance I could’ve found a way to save Sam.”

  “You know as well as I do you would always bring a civilian out before going back for a colleague. Did Sam die at the house?”

  “Yes.”

  His mother came into the room and laid a tea tray on the sideboard. Her shoulders trembled as she poured the tea and Trent rose. He took the teapot from her hands and led her to the couch, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I’ll do it, Mum. Sit down.”

  She gave a small smile and sat next to his dad.

  Trent clenched his jaw as he poured the tea. His mother hadn’t known Sam particularly well, having only met him a dozen or so times when his parents visited Templeton, but he knew the tears she tried so hard to hold back would be for Sam’s parents as much as their son. They’d also be for Trent. For her boy, who she silently worried about every single day.

  A blaze had taken her daughter and she lived in constant fear another would one day take her son too.

  With the tea poured, Trent passed a cup to each of his parents and sat in an armchair beside his mother.

  She looked at him, her face pale. “Part of me wishes every day that you hadn’t become a firefighter, but it never stops me from being proud of you. You do know that?”

  Trent nodded and put his cup on a small table beside him. The one sip of tea he’d taken had turned his wretched stomach. God only knew how he’d get through the dinner his mother would want to feed him. He cleared his throat and eased back in his chair. “Is it okay if I stay here for a few days?”

  “They’ve given you time off?” His mother smiled softly. “I’m pleased. Of course you can stay. The longer, the better.”

  Trent swallowed as thoughts of Izzy filled his mind. “I just need a few days to get my head straight and then I’ll head back to Templeton. There are people...things... I need to take care of, but I just need to spend some time here first.”

  “I wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s so good to see you.” His mother’s eyes clouded with concern. “Can I ask who the people are you need to take care of?”

  “Not people, Mum. Things. There are things I need to take care of.”

  “Such as?”

  Trent looked from his mother to his father, whose shrewd gaze bored into Trent’s with undisguised suspicion. Trent cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything.”

  The silence pressed down on him as his parents’ watchful gazes lingered on his face.

  His father stood and placed his cup on the sideboard before walking to the window. “It’s going to be a nice evening.” He turned, his gaze determined as he looked at Trent. “Why don’t we go to the pub for a pint? We could bring back some fish and chips and save your mum from having to cook.”

  “Oh, David, you know I love to cook when Trent comes home.”

  Neither Trent nor his dad turned to look at his mother as she protested. The underlying tone to his father’s voice had broached no argument. Trent exhaled a defeated breath. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Good.” His father walke
d to the door. “Go and get your bags from the car and I’ll freshen up a bit before we head out.”

  The second his father was gone, his mother pushed to her feet. “He only wants to talk to you, sweetheart. There’s no need to have such a look of dread on your face.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to talk. I came home to...” He shook his head and blew out a breath. “To see for myself that you were okay, I suppose.”

  She picked up his barely touched cup of tea. “And we are, but you know as well as I do, there’s little point in avoiding a conversation with your father if that’s what he wants from you.” She gathered the remaining cups and placed them on the tray. “Go and get your bags. Everything will be all right. You’ll see.”

  Trent followed his mum from the room, and as she walked into the kitchen, he stared after her, grief heavy in his heart. He’d lost another one of his friends and the woman he’d wanted for years in a single day. He wasn’t sure anything would be all right ever again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  DUSK WAS FALLING as Izzy sat in her car and contemplated the front of the fire station. Her heart lay heavy in her chest, Trent’s parting words echoing in her mind. Over and over she’d replayed their conversation. She closed her eyes as shame filled her. No matter how she longed for Trent to be wrong, a small part of her continued to blame him for Robbie’s death and now he no longer wanted her and her miserable attitude around him.

  She could hardly blame him for wanting her out of his life when he witnessed so much pain, day after day, and still managed to be the rock everyone leaned on.

  Maybe she should leave for the city. Put the space Trent clearly thought they needed firmly in place. Concentrate on her career instead of her love life.

  She opened her eyes. She would leave once she knew Trent was okay. After sending her parents running for the earliest departing ship months before, she wouldn’t make the same mistake with Trent. She loved him, no matter how right he might be about them needing to work out their individual problems before either of them could expect to move on.

  Getting out of her car, she approached the station. The courtyard was eerily devoid of firefighters and noise. She ventured deeper inside until she came to a small reception area. The woman behind the desk looked up. “Can I help you?”

  Izzy forced a smile. “Yes. I was hoping to speak with the chief for a few minutes.”

  “Can I ask what it’s concerning?”

  “Trent. Trent Palmer.”

  The woman stared for a moment, her eyes sad. “Right. If you could wait here, I’ll see if I can find him.”

  She strode along a corridor, stopping outside a closed door, and knocked before entering. Izzy took a deep breath and glanced around her. She shouldn’t be here. Trent wouldn’t want her there, but she needed to be certain that he was with someone—anyone—before she left him alone for the final time.

  “Can I help you?”

  Izzy turned and met the gaze of a man in his early fifties, his gray eyes somber. She took a step forward, her hand outstretched. “Izzy Cooper. I’m Trent’s...girlfriend. I was hoping he might be here, but there was no one else around to ask.”

  “We’re extremely busy, Miss Cooper.”

  “I appreciate that, it’s just...” Words failed her as her heart pulled with hopelessness. “Do you know something? It doesn’t matter. Thanks for your time.”

  She turned to leave.

  “Miss Cooper? Why don’t you step into my office?”

  Briefly closing her eyes, Izzy sent up a silent thank-you before facing the fire chief. “Thank you.”

  She followed him into his office. It had been three hours since she stupidly let Trent go, buckling under her issues of rejection and abandonment. Now she had absolutely no idea where else to look for him.

  “So, you’re looking for Trent?”

  The chief’s question jolted Izzy from her worry. “Yes. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

  “No idea at all.”

  Izzy tried to get a handle on her rising panic. Clearly, Trent intended to close himself off from her, but she had to know for certain he was going to be okay. She gripped the back of the chair in front of her. “I’m worried about him. I don’t like to think of him alone after losing Sam today. When I spoke to him earlier, I had the distinct feeling he was running away. It’s not like Trent to turn his back on the station while you’re all in grief.”

  The fire chief frowned and sat in the chair behind his desk. “I’m sorry, but Trent has had one hell of a day. I expect he’s gone somewhere where no one knows him and he can drown his sorrows in peace. He clearly wants to be alone. So if I were you—”

  “You don’t understand. I know what he’s going through and he shouldn’t be alone. No one should when they lose someone this way. I’ve been calling and looking for him all afternoon. Surely one of the crew knows where he is? What about Will? Is he here?”

  “No, I sent him home too.” The chief exhaled a heavy breath and leaned his forearms on his desk, his gaze softening. “Look, clearly you’re concerned about Palmer, but take my advice and leave him be. Let him come to you. It’s the only way to deal with the situation. I’ve hardly got a word out of anybody here all day. Just give him some space and he’ll come find you when he’s ready.”

  Sickness rolled through her stomach. Where was he? What if he’d changed his mind and realized he still needed her?

  “Well, Izzy, I’m really busy, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Some of the guys are outside. Maybe one of them can help you.” He walked to the office door and opened it. “But bear in mind what I said. Trent might be better off being left alone for a couple of days.”

  Izzy stared. A couple of days? If he thought she was going to leave Trent alone with his grief for a couple of days, he’d better think again. Trent had tried again and again to be there for her when Robbie died despite her rejections. In hindsight, hadn’t she relied on him being there for her? Hadn’t she secretly loved him for coming back no matter how cold and callous she stupidly treated him in return? She wanted to be everything to him that he’d been to her.

  She hitched her purse strap onto her shoulder and walked to the door. “Thank you for your help anyway.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The office door closed behind her and she strode through the station into the yard. Trent’s chief was clearly struggling to hold things together too. His carefully controlled tone of voice and stiff body language screamed of a man doing what he could to hold his crew together in the face of tragedy. She could only admire him for that.

  It was up to her to find Trent alone if need be.

  As she walked toward the exit, what looked to be a skeleton team of firefighters meandered around, their expressions and gaits showing their shock and grief. The jeering and camaraderie she’d witnessed a few weeks ago had vanished, leaving behind darkness and disbelief.

  Inhaling a long breath, Izzy approached three guys working on one of the four trucks lined up at the front of the station garage. “Excuse me?”

  They turned and one gave a halfhearted smile. “You’re Trent’s girl, right? How’s he doing?”

  A momentary flash of pride warmed Izzy’s heart at being called “Trent’s girl” before it was whisked away by the reality that she had no idea how Trent was doing. “I don’t know. I’ve looked everywhere I thought he might be, but I can’t find him.” She glanced around the trio of grave faces. “Would any of you know somewhere I might not have thought of?”

  “Well, if you’ve tried the Coast and the other bars around—”

  “I have and I’ve been back to his apartment, the Seascape...” She darted her gaze over around them, desperation sweeping painfully through her. “I’ve no idea where else he could be.”

  “You could try Will’s pla
ce.”

  She’d considered going to Will’s home but was reluctant to do so when he would be battling his own sadness. Yet where else would Trent be other than with the third person in such a tight trio of friends? He and Will would need, now more than ever, to be together to hold each other up. She sighed. “I didn’t really want to disturb him if he’s gone home.”

  “I’m sure he won’t mind if he knows you’re there for Trent.”

  Izzy nodded. “Okay. I’ll go there now. Sorry to bother you after what happened today.”

  The firefighter nodded as the others stared, their eyes emotionless and their bodies rigid.

  Turning, Izzy walked out of the station courtyard and quickly slid into her car. Gunning the engine, she exited the station and headed for Will’s place. He lived in one of the cabins at the bottom of Clover Point with his wife, Helen, and their new baby boy, Oscar. Izzy gripped the steering wheel. Was it better that Sam hadn’t been married and was without children? Or worse, because now he wouldn’t have the chance for either?

  Tears burned and she blinked them back, concentrating on her driving and negotiating what seemed an impossibly busy road.

  Finally, she made it to Clover Point and pulled into Will’s graveled driveway. The last thing she wanted was to intrude on Will and Helen at a time like this, but what choice did she have if she wanted to find Trent? If he was here and drawing comfort from being with his friend, that was fine. She would leave him be.

  As long as he had comfort from somewhere.

  She got out of the car and approached the front door. Inhaling a strengthening breath, she lifted her hand and knocked.

  Several seconds passed before the door opened and Helen, her eyes red from crying, stood on the threshold. “Oh, Izzy. Hi.”

  Despite only really knowing Helen from sight and occasional passing chitchat, Izzy gently touched the other woman’s arm. “Hi. I know what happened today and I’m sorry. Are you okay? How’s Will?”

  Helen’s eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. “He’s upstairs. I told him to try to sleep, but I imagine he’s just lying there, blaming himself.”