by Jen Talty
“She still hates me.” Since moving to the area, Fletcher hadn’t made many friends, in part because he worked for a long time forty minutes south, but also because while he cared deeply for the men and women he served with, he never quite felt like he fit in.
Not since he’d left Austin, Texas.
Even then, the betrayal of how many people knew in the station that his wife was having an affair and chose not to tell him still bothered him.
But things at the 29 were different, and it didn’t matter that he was one of the few who wasn’t actually related to someone on the crew. The team was one cohesive unit that flowed gently like a lazy river.
Except for the conflict between him and Renee. Something that he was going to have to find a way to change.
Or he would have to ask for a transfer.
“I tried talking to her yesterday, but she won’t hear of it.”
“Bringing up her late husband at work probably isn’t the best thing.” His grandmother took his elbow and led him out to the patio overlooking the lake. She took her regular seat, and he chose to lean against the railing.
He had to agree with his grandma, which is why he contemplated taking a walk by Renee’s place this evening. He had it on good authority that she liked to sit by the water at nights. He wanted to clear some things up before they got on the road tomorrow since they needed to focus on the presentation and other work-related stuff. This sarcastic bullshit between them had to come to an end.
“I’m not sure she’ll ever stop blaming me for his death.” When Cade and Gavin had come to him with that juicy piece of information, it had brought him to his knees. Fletcher had seen Devon park his truck and run across the parking lot. Fletcher had chased Devon inside the hotel, yelling at him to stop, but Devon wouldn’t hear of it.
“It’s not your fault that young man died.”
“I know that, Grandma, but her brother told me yesterday that she absolutely believes I allowed Devon to enter the hotel. I did no such thing. However, he did lead me to her.”
“And you saved her, which I suspect her husband would have wanted.”
“I’m sure that’s why he went back into the hotel in the first place. I just don’t know how I can make her understand I would never let anyone go into a situation like that without protection, not even a decorated firefighter.”
“You’ve got your father’s charm.” His grandmother shook her head. “That boy could sell you a free glass of water.”
“I’m not nearly as charismatic as my old man was.” Fletcher struggled to hold on to the memories of his parents. The further away he got from their deaths, the more difficult it became to pull up images and recollections in his mind. “He could always get Mom going, and she believed everything that came out of his mouth.”
“That she did,” his grandma said, finishing off her wine. “I think it’s time for me to go watch the evening news, and then do a little reading. What are you up to this fine night?”
“I thought I might go for a walk.”
“And maybe find a nice young lady to chat with?”
“Something like that,” he said. He’d always been close with his grandma, but in the last year, she’d become his lifeline.
And maybe he’d become hers.
Never in a million years did he think he’d actually enjoy living up here. He used to think it was too quiet and boring, but now he thrived in the environment.
“You know what they say about two broken hearts, don’t you?”
“No, Grandma. What do they say?” This should be good, and he figured there was no they and these would be his grandmother’s words only.
“That one mends the other, creating a single heartbeat.”
“Oh no, Grandma. You are not going to go play matchmaker with me and Renee. Her husband hasn’t even been gone a year. It’s too soon for her.”
“And what about you?”
“I’m not interested.” He downed the rest of his beer. “In her or any woman. Those days are long gone.”
“You need to let go of your hurt and anger and open your soul to love again.” She stood, kissing his cheek. “Good night, Fletcher. Don’t be out too late.”
He waited for his grandmother to disappear into her room before he rinsed out his bottle, ditched it in the recycle bin, and headed down the street toward the Blake residence.
He remembered visiting his grandparents and meeting Jared’s wife, Ryan, long before she became his bride. Fletcher had a huge crush on Ryan. She was eight years older, smoking hot, and always had a smile plastered on her face. She used to rent the carriage house where Renee now resided.
Fletcher strolled by the driveway and down the path toward the waterfront. It had been Jared and Ryan who told him that she often spent her evenings on a lounge chair, sipping honey whiskey, listening to Creedence Clearwater Revival, her late husband’s favorite drink and band.
Soft music filled the night air. His mother loved the particular song playing. She used to sit out by the pool with her glass of Merlot and guitar. She had a sweet, soulful voice that he struggled to pull up in his mind’s eye.
Renee lay sprawled out on a lounge chair. She tapped her foot to the beat of the music while her hand swayed back and forth with her fingers curled around a glass.
He cleared his throat.
She jerked her head to the side. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Fletcher,” he said quietly, hoping not to scare her too much.
“What the hell are you doing here? We’re not scheduled to leave until tomorrow.”
“We need to talk.”
She waved her glass out in front of him. “It can wait.”
“No. It can’t.” He reached out under her chair and heaved it toward him, before sitting at the end by her feet. “I’m not going to spend a few hours in a vehicle with you and your razor-sharp tongue while trying to go over our presentation. It’s time to clear the air now.”
“Nothing to clear.”
“I beg to differ.” He took her glass from her hand and took a good swig before refilling it from the bottle she had on the table next to the chair. “You need to know I never let Devon into that building.”
“You’re lying.”
“No. I’m not.” He sipped the honey whiskey. This conversation could go a few different ways.
He needed it to end on a positive note. At the very least, he needed them to call a truce and find a way to speak kindly to one another.
“The only thing that killed Devon was the roof caving in.”
“You’ve been talking to my brother,” she said, taking the glass from his hands. “Or my cousin.”
“Both,” he admitted. “And I want you to listen to me. No interruptions, okay?”
“Fine,” she said. “Speak your peace. I don’t have to accept it,” she mumbled.
At least he was going to get a chance to say it. “When the crew arrived at the scene, your husband’s truck wasn’t in the parking lot.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I saw him pull in, jump from the driver’s seat, and race to the hotel.”
She sat up taller, straddling the chair. “What did you say to him?”
“Stop. You can’t go in there. That’s about it.”
“The report said he had a bag in his hand. What bag?”
“A big plastic one. And it was full, but I don’t know what happened to it or what was in it.”
“Why didn’t you stop him?” she asked with pleading eyes, begging him to give her answers to all the questions that had been haunting her dreams.
“Trust me. I tried. I chased after him. All he did was yell back to me that his wife was in there and that he was going to get her.”
She tipped back the glass, polishing off what was left, and plopped back in the chair. “Like I’ve said before, you let him in that building.”
“I didn’t let him back inside any more than I can stop you from getting trashed right now. I mean, I could t
ake that bottle, pour it in the lake, but you’d just go find more.”
“Damn straight I would.” She hiccupped, waving the empty container under his nose. “And I could use a lot more alcohol.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Not yet but getting close. Now, either be a gentleman and pour me a little more or get the fuck out of here.”
He held the bottle. “I’ll give you a refill on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You find a way to accept the fact I’m not responsible for Devon’s death. That it was a horrible accident.”
She leaned closer. “Can you tell me something?”
“I’ll try.”
“Why did he leave his bride in the middle of the night?”
“All I know is he had a big bag.”
She dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “You really don’t know what he was carrying?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“Anyone else have any kind of interaction with him?”
“There were at least five of us yelling at him, but I’m the only one that chased him, not that it did any good. By the time I entered the hotel, the roof had collapsed. I’m lucky I found you alive and even more so that I was able to get both of us out.”
“You went back in,” she said softly.
“Firefighters don’t leave fellow firemen behind.” He took her glass and gave her a decent size pour. “I think he had a gift bag, so maybe he wanted to surprise you with something.”
“I was pregnant.” She let out a long breath before taking a sip. “I had just taken the test the morning of the wedding, and I told him when we arrived in Saratoga. Why would he go out in the middle of the night and get me a gift? Who does that?”
“A man who loves his wife.” Fletcher wanted to ignore the pangs of rage, sorrow, and betrayal that lingered in his heart, but it was impossible. It was hard for him to fathom why his ex-wife went along with the lies for as long as she did. He wondered if she hadn’t gotten caught, if she would have let him believe her son was his after he’d been born.
And the hard part would have been that Fletcher knew without a doubt he would have fallen madly in love with that kid the second he was brought into this world. Hell, the few times he’d seen him, Fletcher felt a slight paternal pull toward the baby. How could he not. For nearly five months, he thought the kid was his.
“I don’t even know if he left me a note in case I woke up,” Renee said with a trembling voice. “I don’t know why he felt the need to sneak out in the middle of the night.”
“I wish I had the answers you crave.” Fletcher pinched the bridge of his nose and used the techniques his therapist had taught him regarding all the memories he wanted to permanently imprint on his brain when it came to his parents and applied it to the night Devon died. Whatever he’d done was obviously important to Renee’s healing, so if he could fill in any blanks, he’d gladly do it.
He allowed the visions of the evening to fill his brain. “I remember my captain had asked me to prepare to enter the hotel. We knew we had four guests unaccounted for. One of which was Devon.”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He blinked, catching her gaze. Her ice-blue eyes pierced his heart. “You’ve been asking about that night, demanding answers, wanting to know why I let him in, which I didn’t. But you’ve never actually asked me what happened. I thought maybe it was about time I tell you.”
“I need more alcohol to hear this.” The final S slurred slightly. She raised the glass to her lips, and the light-golden liquid slipped into her mouth. She swallowed. “I’m ready.”
It was his turn for a shot of courage, only this time after he took a hearty swig, he capped the bottle, shoving it under the chair and hopefully out of reach. “We knew the fire had started in the kitchen and that there had been a gas leak, which is what had caused the explosion. The fire had burned hot and fast, quickly getting out of control. My team was the third station to arrive.”
“It was a four-alarm fire,” she said, dropping her head back and closing her eyes.
He inched up higher on the chair, taking her legs and stretching them out over his lap.
“It was one of the worst fires I’ve ever seen,” he admitted. “One of the other crews had a two-man team inside, and it was deemed safe to send two more in. I was gearing up when I saw this man running across the parking lot carrying a bag. A big one. It looked like it had a fuzzy arm or something flopping out of the side.”
Renee pressed her forearm over her eyes and groaned.
“Now that I think about it, I was kind of shocked that he didn’t drop the bag before he managed to dodge two other firemen and practically knock over a cop before entering the building.”
She tilted her head, peeking out after lifting her arm. “I’d read that he did that. I wasn’t sure I wanted to believe it.”
“Why not?”
She let out a long puff of air. “Because he knew better.”
“If the tables were turned, I’m sure you wouldn’t necessarily be thinking all that rationally,” Fletcher said. “Ponder this. He slipped out for some kind of surprise, and when he came back, the place was an inferno. He saw red, and he went in on blind love.”
“You didn’t know my husband. He was a by-the-book kind of man. He was even more of a stickler for the rules than I am.”
“In that kind of a situation, rules get tossed out the window.” He arched his back, twisting it left and right. Sitting like this wasn’t cutting it. He lifted her butt off the seat.
“Hey. What the hell?”
Scooting to the top of the chair, he set her between his legs, resting her back to his chest. “I’ve had a muscle spasm since yesterday, and it was acting up. This is much better.”
“If I wasn’t halfway to drunk, I’d be elbowing you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for the future,” he said. “Shall I continue?”
“Yes. Please do.” She rested her hands over his knees. Her hair smelled like peaches and cream.
He stared out at the moonlight dancing across the water. In the distance, a motorboat hummed across the lake.
“I had just put on my tank when I saw Devon. I started yelling at him, but he didn’t listen. I took off running, but you know how hard it is to keep up with someone who isn’t carrying an extra hundred pounds of equipment. There was also a ton of noise between the roar of the fire, crew members barking orders, the sound of water hitting flames, and the chaos of the crowd. Not to mention I had on my face mask. I wasn’t sure he heard me at all. Once he ducked inside the lobby, I lost sight of him in the smoke. From there, I had to go to where I knew there were potential survivors. I had to assume he was headed to the same rooms I was.”
“But he didn’t make it.”
“No. He didn’t.” Fletcher dropped his chin to Renee’s head, focusing on the freeze-frame he created in his mind. He raced through that lobby just as the roof caved in, making it harder for him to get to the far end of the hotel to save Renee, he saw out of the corner of his eye, a fiery beam drop. It forced him to skid to an abrupt halt. The bag with a teddy bear burned at his feet. He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d seen that image a million times, but it never registered that a stuffed animal had been what Devon had been carrying.
“If I could have stopped Devon, I would have, and I know this won’t make you feel better or bring him back, but I’ve thought about that night every day and wondered if there was something I could have done differently.”
“And is there?”
“The only thing I can think of would have been to take off my tank and gear so I could run faster. Then maybe I might have caught him. But then you’d be dead, and Devon would be blaming me for that.”
“I need another swig.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“I honestly don’t care what you think.” She leaned over, snagging a bag off the table. Sitting up between his legs, she shoved it in his ches
t, then leaned over and grabbed the bottle. “I know I’m self-medicating. I know I shouldn’t. But I also have an understanding of where my limits are, and I don’t ever exceed them.”
He bit back a chuckle. Little Miss Rules and Regulations had managed to create some for getting hammered while dealing with tragedy. It wasn’t funny, not at all, but he couldn’t help but find the humor in her rigidness. “What’s this?” He held up the plastic bag.
“That was in Devon’s truck.” She swiped at her lips but missed some of the liquid dribbling down her chin.
He reached out and caught it with his thumb and brought it to his mouth. From the second he’d stepped foot in the 29, he’d noticed the beautiful Renee Nash. Actually, he’d noticed her years ago when he’d come to visit his grandparents.
He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t a bit of a crush on her, but he lived in Texas and that was a long way from New York, which he only visited like every other year, so Renee was someone he admired from afar when he’d been a teenager and a young adult. But once his parents died, he flew his grandparents to him on a regular basis. When he did come to New York, he didn’t pay much attention to Renee or anyone else, either because he’d found who he thought would be his one and only, or he was too busy spending every second with his family.
Life was too short to waste it on anything else.
He had to admit he had feelings for Renee, but they were totally inappropriate, and he shouldn’t act on them, not even in the name of comforting her during a time of need.
He peeked into the opening and gasped.
Baby clothes.
“You’ve known all along why he left in the middle of the night,” Fletcher whispered. A million questions raced through his mind, but he couldn’t grab one to ask.
“If I hadn’t been pregnant. Or if I hadn’t told him that night and waited until the next day. He wouldn’t have raced in. He would have let you come in and find me.”
Shit. He rubbed his temples. “Is that what you really think?”
“It’s what I know.”
He took her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “When did you lose the baby?”
“Three weeks later,” she said with a quivering lower lip.
