Saved by the Firefighter

by Rachel Brimble

  Gosford narrowed his eyes and darted his study over the front of the warehouse, and then to the crowd of workers huddled a few feet away. “Just hold tight while I find the company’s fire officer. I want to do another check of how many civilians are unaccounted for. Wait here.”

  Impatience hummed through Trent’s body, making him want to run for the building, regardless of protocol...but Sam’s words about Trent’s need to act so urgently haunted him. If Trent failed to follow procedure and another firefighter lost his life, he’d only have himself to blame.

  “Palmer.”

  Trent turned as Gosford jogged toward him. “The fire officer is certain there are now only four employees unaccounted for. We’ve already brought two out alive. I want the minimum number of crew inside until we get this thing contained. You’re on water.”

  Trent nodded and sprinted toward one of the heavy hoses.

  The team worked for the next hour fighting the fire’s flames as they licked the building from inside, crawling and reaching to the outer walls. Time and again as Trent worked, his mind turned to Izzy and a horrible foreboding stole through him as hot as the fire he fought.

  Deep inside, a demon curled and bit at his conscience. She had run home because she was scared of his job, not him. It was fire that scarred and maimed their chance of lasting happiness. How could he ever convince her he would be safe while he continued to fight fire? His mother had said she too would be thankful when he quit the job.

  Was that it? Would he have to surrender his passion in order to be with Izzy?

  Sweat trickled down his temples and he refocused on the job, but no matter how hard he and his colleagues tried to contain the fire, it continued to viciously burn. All the civilians had been brought out alive, but it was still too soon for celebration.

  Trent squinted toward the burning building. Something about the fire wasn’t right. They should be gaining notable ground by now, but instead, the flames continued to reach higher. An accelerant of some description must be accountable for the relentlessness.

  He looked around for Gosford. If the fire was still in command of the fighters, more of them needed to get inside and ascertain what was going on behind the building’s redbrick walls. He spotted Gosford’s white helmet and Trent passed the manning of his hose to one of his colleagues.

  He jogged toward Gosford, who stood closer to the warehouse, the fire cracking and spitting at full volume.

  Once Trent reached Gosford’s side, he cupped his hands around his mouth. “Let me get in there. I’ll take McCarthy with me. I think we need to investigate the south side of the building. I’m pretty confident there’s something back there causing this thing to snap and snarl like this.”

  Gosford ran his hand up and down his jaw, his gaze trained past Trent to the burning building. “I was going to order you to do that in another ten minutes or so. What’s your gut telling you?”

  “That I need to get in there. Right now. Do I have permission to enter?”

  Gosford nodded, his gaze as hot as the blaze. “Go. Take McCarthy with you. Scan the area and get your asses back out here with a report. No trying anything without my say-so. Understood?”

  Trent gave a curt nod and broke into a sprint before Gosford changed his mind. Trent scanned the gathered and perspiring firefighters, looking for McCarthy. He spotted him and ran forward, slapping his trusted colleague on the shoulder. “We’ve got permission to enter. Something’s not right. I want you to come with me to check it out. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this one.”

  McCarthy swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “I’m right behind you, buddy. Let’s go.”

  Trent shouted out their departure to his colleagues before leading the way. After he and McCarthy had located the easiest and safest way to enter, Trent assessed the situation inside the first room.

  The entire area was lit by a sea of moving red, orange and yellow. Every flame danced and surged. The temperature approached boiling. Trent squinted through his mask and lowered his mouth to the radio. “This way. Follow me.”

  The perpetual unease that had gripped him outside veered up a notch as Trent bent low and followed his instincts. He stole from the room and into a corridor.

  Boom!

  The force of the explosion hit him in the chest and he was thrown backward. Something hard hit the back of his head and spine.

  A loud crack reverberated in his head...and everything turned black.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  IZZY COLLAPSED ONTO her sofa, her favorite dinner of nachos layered with thick cheese, sour cream, guacamole and salsa on the side, duly positioned in pride of place on her lap. Putting her soda on the side table, she reached for the remote and flicked on the TV, purposefully ignoring her phone beside her.

  Trent had given up calling and texting her almost two hours after she left his parents’ house. As much as Izzy told herself his surrender didn’t matter, that their split was for the best for both of them, her heart continued to take its merry time catching up with her brain.

  She popped a nacho into her mouth and tried to concentrate on the ending credits of a soap as they raced up the TV screen. Yet, just as it had all day, her mind drifted back to Trent and their time together. Tears burned and the happy, laughing family of the advertisement on-screen blurred. Izzy angrily swiped at her tears with the heel of her hand.

  Goddamn it. Forget him. Forget everything.

  Her apartment buzzer reverberated through the room and she froze, her mind racing. Was it Trent? If it was, what would she say to him? Should she even answer the buzzer or just pretend to be out partying, instead of gorging on a calorie-loaded comfort food feast for one?

  “Oh, hell.” She slid the nacho bowl onto the side table and stood just as the buzzer sounded a second time, hitching her irritation nicely into place. Being annoyed with Trent was a far safer place to start a conversation from.

  Taking a deep breath, Izzy tilted her chin and headed for the door. She pressed the button. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Mum. Can we come up? Your dad’s brought your favorite chocolate pecan pie from Marian’s as a bribe...and as an apology for us letting ourselves into your apartment earlier. We’re truly sorry, sweetheart. We shouldn’t have surprised you that way.”

  As disappointment that it wasn’t Trent at the door swept over her, Izzy forced a smile. “I’ve already forgiven you. You know that. Use your key and come on up. The pecan pie sealed the deal.”

  She headed back to the sofa. As she sat, Izzy pulled the huge bowl of nachos into her lap. Happy they were still warm enough to be edible, she devoured another two chips in quick succession.

  “My disgusting consumption is the first thing that can go on my ‘why Trent is no good for me’ list,” she murmured, and picked up the remote. She flicked through the channels to the find the local news, knowing it would be the first thing her father would do once he entered the apartment.

  The jangle of a key sounded in her lock and her mother walked into the apartment, followed by Izzy’s father, who wore a sheepish expression. Izzy smiled, guessing he took credit for their permitted entrance by way of pie.

  Izzy shook her head, fondness for him swelling her heart. “Put the pie on the kitchen counter, Dad. We’ll have it with some tea later.”

  His face dropped. “Don’t you want any now?”

  She lifted the nacho bowl. “Currently have something else going on.”

  Her father saluted his understanding and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Her mother sat beside Izzy on the sofa. “You look tired, sweetheart. Have you worked with Kate all day?”

  “I have, but it was worth the tiredness.”

  “Oh?”

  Fighting the regret that it wouldn’t be Trent who first heard about her day, but her mother, Izzy drag
ged up some enthusiasm. “We spent the whole day calling up as many businesses as possible in Templeton and beyond, asking them to stock the calendars I told you about.”

  “Did you get much success?” Her mother stole a nacho and put in her mouth. “You were so cruel to tell me about the semiclad firefighters and then rush off this morning without showing me the proofs. I’ve felt bereft all day.”

  Izzy smiled. “As soon as I’ve finished my nachos, I’ll go grab you a copy.”

  “Good.”

  They turned to the TV and Izzy blindly watched the advertisements, her mind wandering to the most significant call she’d received that day. She glanced at her mother as she slipped off her high-heeled shoes and settled more comfortably into the sofa. Should she tell her parents about the phone call or keep it to herself awhile longer?

  Sometimes it became unnervingly clear how much she held back from her mum and dad after having learned to deal with so much alone.

  Izzy swallowed her trepidation. While they were here, she would embrace their presence and confidence until they disappeared again. Who knew? Maybe sharing in their daughter’s life would encourage them to stay. She cleared her throat. “I also had a phone call from Jay Garrett this afternoon.”

  Her mother’s smile dissolved and her hand stopped midway toward a second dive into the nachos. “Jay Garrett? Why were you speaking to him? Is something wrong?”

  “No. Why should anything be wrong?”

  Her mother sniffed. “No one makes as much money as his father did, and now Jay does, without being up to no good.”

  “That’s not true and you know it. The Garretts have never done anything but good for this town.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion, darling. You are clearly too young to remember the real Jay Garrett.”

  Gripping the nacho bowl tighter, Izzy struggled to hold on to her patience. “Well, as far as I know, Jay’s a good man with a lovely wife, and neither of them has ever done anything to upset—”

  “Ah, but he didn’t always have the detective inspector by his side to keep him in line, did he?”

  Izzy’s patience snapped. “Why do you have to have such a negative view of everything and everyone in the Cove? Just because you like to travel around the world at every opportunity, some of us think Templeton is pretty perfect.”

  “Really? Even with Robbie being killed here?”

  The room chilled.

  “Why would you say something like that?” Izzy fought her anger. “Do you know what? Forget I said anything.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you. All I’m saying—”

  “Mum, I really don’t want to argue with you about this. In fact, I’d really appreciate it if you and Dad would show me some support while you’re here.”

  Her father entered the room and took a seat in one of the armchairs on either side of the sofa.

  Her mother faced him. “Frank? Izzy had a call from Jay Garrett this afternoon.” She raised her eyebrows. “What do you think of that?”

  Izzy lifted her chin, determined to own what had happened between her and Jay this afternoon. Why should she need or care for her parents’ approval about her decisions? They’d made it clear over the years that their children were free to do as they pleased...usually without any parental input or guidance.

  She reached forward and picked up her soda from the table and drank, easing her dry throat. “If you must know, Jay called me to set up a meeting with his lawyers, and mine, so we can go over my new working contract.”

  “Working contract?” Her dad frowned. “Izzy, the best thing for an artist is to be freelance surely? I thought you were doing well with your work. Why would you commit to something that will inevitably suffocate your creativity?”

  “This will not suffocate my creativity. In fact—”

  “We’ve always encouraged you and your brother to follow your dreams.” Her mother frowned. “Why would you give away your talent as though it is worth so little?”

  “If you let me explain.” She looked at her parents in turn. “Jay wants me to run a new art gallery in town. My work will take up most of the space, while other local artists utilize the rest. He doesn’t want to suffocate my creativity. He’s positively encouraging it. Not just mine, but others’ too.”

  Her parents exchanged a skeptical look. Izzy waited. The protective walls she’d built had slowly lowered over the last few weeks, but with her parents’ doubt so clearly etched on their faces, those walls threatened to reerect themselves pretty quickly. She fought back with all her might. She didn’t want to be the person her parents’ words and actions had made her in the past. She wanted to be the person Trent made her. Even if his job and their individual insecurities meant they couldn’t be together.

  “Oh. Well, that changes everything.” Her mother smiled and her shoulders relaxed. “Doesn’t it, Frank?”

  Her father continued to stare at Izzy, his eyes narrowed. “And Garrett will take a cut of the profits?”

  Izzy sighed. “Of course. It’s business, but Jay has already said how much he admires my work and hasn’t put any limitations or instructions on me. He also believes I’m the best person to judge what other work to show at the gallery. I’m really excited about this. Can’t you find it in yourselves to be excited for me too?” Despite their negativity, Izzy smiled and embraced the positive energy that burned inside her. “It’s the first time I’ve even considered anything so public since Robbie died. The time feels right to move forward and try something new.”

  Her mother delved once again into the nacho bowl. “Then we’re very happy for you. Aren’t we, Frank?”

  “Sure. Good luck with it, darling.” He leaned forward and snatched out a nacho, put it in his mouth.

  Knowing their less than enthusiastic acceptance was the best she could hope for, Izzy released her held breath. “Right, then.” Feigning annoyance, she faked a glare at them in turn and moved the nachos out of their reach. “You do know these are mine, right?” They both frowned, clearly misunderstanding her humor. Izzy sighed. “Do you know what? Go crazy. I’ll eat the entirety of the pecan pie instead.”

  She put the bowl on the table in front of them and her mother and father dove in, completely unconcerned by their daughter’s sarcasm.

  Her dad’s gaze darkened with disquiet once more. “I always thought you’d end up in New York or London, any one of the world’s huge cities. I still think you’re too talented to stay in the Cove, Iz. I know you love it here, but—”

  “But nothing, Dad. Templeton is my home and, most likely, always will be. You know, most of the people who come to live here never leave. You and Mum are the exception. Don’t you see that?”

  He held her gaze before raising his hands. “Fine. Your life. Your choice.”

  “Thank you.” Izzy turned to her mother. “And thank you, Mum.”

  “For what?”

  “For being at least a little pleased for me. It means a lot.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. If this is what you want—”

  “Hey, wouldn’t Trent be involved in that?” Her dad waved his hand toward the TV. “Wow, that’s a big one.”

  Izzy rose to her feet, her parents falling into silence beside her.

  Icy-cold fingers tiptoed up Izzy’s spine as she stared at the TV screen, her previous whisper of happiness vanishing as terror rose and clenched like a fist in her chest.

  “The explosion happened while several firefighters were inside the warehouse fighting the blaze. It is also believed that there may have been up to four civilians inside as well. Channel 4 news has been told that all the firefighters at the scene have been accounted for and are at Templeton General being treated for any injuries sustained. Nothing has yet been confirmed regarding the civilians, but that may be due to their families—”

  Izzy snapped
her gaze to the pale, shocked faces of her parents. “So Trent’s okay, right? The newsreader said all the firefighters have been accounted for? Trent’s okay. He must be.”

  They stared at her, their gazes full of fear.

  Izzy trembled. “Right?”

  Her mother and father only continued to stare at her, their mouths open and their eyes filled with worry.

  Shaking off her paralysis, she reached for her phone. The sharp, painful knot in her stomach that had occurred when Robbie died wound its warning once more. She dialed Trent’s number, but the call went straight to voice mail. She numbly redialed...and dialed a third time.

  The phone slipped from her hand to the carpet. What if Trent was dead? She closed her eyes. No. She wouldn’t go there. He would be okay. It didn’t matter that her heart raced, her body forewarning her of the pain that could once more rip her wide-open.

  “Izzy, listen to me.” Her mother pushed to her feet, her arm outstretched. “You’ll hear soon enough if anything has happened to—”

  “I can’t sit here and hope some mention is made of him on TV. I have to know for sure, Mum.”

  Ignoring her parents as they both stood in front of her, Izzy snatched up the phone from the floor and dialed Trent’s number again. “Trent, please pick up. Please.”

  The phone continued to ominously ring and just as his voice mail kicked in, Izzy ended the call. She couldn’t stand to listen to his voice mail message again. Nothing would be enough now other than to hear his voice directly as he took her into his arms and kissed away her tears.

  If he had gone to the hospital, would he have been discharged and gone back to his parents’ place in Kingsley?

  Tears filled her eyes. She had no idea where he would be. Not anymore.

  This was her fault. She’d chosen to walk away from him...from them.

  It didn’t matter that her mother had agreed Izzy being with Trent was a bad idea; that she’d said the same thing over and over to herself. If he’d died in that explosion, if he was no longer on this planet, she would surely die too.