by Nikki Duncan
Jarrett hopped into the truck and claimed the seat beside Delancey. They weren’t what she would call best friends, but she’d realized he wasn’t the uncaring letch she’d originally thought him to be before he had made the mistake of being nice to the kid who’d come to the station looking for him a few times. “Saw Schneider. You hear the latest on the investigation into the Mathis arson?”
Her heart kicked. Logan had spent the next two nights, after their first, at her house. They’d eaten, played pool, talked and had sex. Great sex many times. They hadn’t had much time to talk during her current shift though, and she missed him.
Letting the guys know how curious she was opened her up to be a major target for their barbs. Steady and calm, she said, “Should I have?”
“It was your first rescue. Can’t believe you’re not curious.”
Andy’s interest shifted from whatever he and Mike, the only man in the group with a wife, were talking about. “Did he find something out?”
“He’s working with the cops. Turns out there was security footage from a nearby business that showed a man running out of the building just before Mathis showed up. They’re going to release the video on the news to see if anyone comes forward with information.”
“Wouldn’t it be easy enough to get a list of possible suspects?” Delancey was pleased with how casual she sounded. “Mathis’s accounting firm was the only business in there.”
“There was an office being moved in,” Andy added.
“Which would limit the list to Mathis clients and employees of the new business,” Mike said.
“If I cared how to solve a mystery I’d be a cop or inspector.”
Sound logic on Jarrett’s part didn’t ease Delancey’s frustration on Logan’s behalf. “I hope they talk to Mathis before going live with anything.”
“You sound protective.” Charlie suspected the motivation behind her comment. His knack for seeing her thoughts creeped her out at times. “Something going on with Mathis we should know about, Gidget?”
“Like what?” she asked, looking at each of the men but lingering a beat longer on Andy.
“That’d be up to you to tell us,” Charlie said.
“I see a lot of stuff as a therapist. No one’s recovery is aided by callously handled investigations and glory-seeking news reports. Mr. Mathis can’t be any different.”
“Definitely something she ain’t telling.” Charlie’s twang was exaggerated on the ain’t. “Have you seen him? Followed up to see how he’s doing?”
Denial tempted her. Logan grew more special to her every day and she didn’t want to jeopardize whatever they might have by putting pressure on them.
Loyalty motivated her. The men she worked with were her friends and she didn’t want to risk the progress she’d made by lying to them.
“Yes. I’ve seen him. He’s a good guy who would want to see his sister’s killer behind bars.”
“As long as it’s not done through a newscast that invades his privacy,” Andy added.
“So you’ve checked on him too?” Mike asked with a note of surprise.
“Yes. Even Aloof Andy gets curious. Mathis is a nice guy. He deserves better than another backhand in the news.”
“I only call you that when you’re being callous.” Standing up for her without blowing her secret was anything but aloof or callous.
“Well,” Charlie said, “as I understand it, this isn’t his call to make. You may want to see Mathis again and warn him.”
She definitely wanted to warn him and if it meant unsensationalizing the story she’d try to help him figure out who might have been running from the building that day.
Her determination to investigate on her own only grew in the time it took them to get back to the station and do their post-call work. Before she had her gear fully stowed, Chief Kroeger approached. “Delancey, finish with your gear and go home.”
“Did I do something wrong, sir?”
He went on like she hadn’t spoken. “Or go to a doctor. I don’t care which as long as you’re able to say you’re one hundred percent at the start of next shift.”
“Sir?” His dismissal stank of disappointment. She just didn’t know what she’d done.
“Get that ankle and shoulder looked at. Tell me if it’s worse than you’re admitting.” He angled himself closer so only she’d hear what he said next. “Acceptance doesn’t mean you have to be invincible.”
Relieved to be getting off sooner, she didn’t argue that she was fine or insist she stay to help clean up. She thanked him, stowed her gear, grabbed her keys and purse and left. Her ankle was swollen and hurt more every minute she was on it and her shoulder was almost too stiff to move.
The plan had been for her to pick Logan up on her way home so they could spend the next couple days together. Straying from the plan a little, she texted Logan that she was off but would be later than planned. Then she went to the clinic she did therapy at to get her ankle and shoulder looked at.
Thomas, an amazing chiropractor and the owner, employed physical therapists, an acupuncturist, a massage therapist and a general practitioner. His main office was outside the hospital, but his therapists spent most of their time in the hospital’s therapy center.
“Hi, Joanie.” She leaned on the counter and took the weight off her foot as she greeted the receptionist wearing kitten-printed scrubs. “Is Thomas here?”
The waiting area was empty with the day winding down but Thomas was always the last one to leave for the day. More often than not, Joanie left when he did. It had always struck her as intensely sweet that a mother and son could share the kind of relationship they did in and out of the office.
“He’s with his last patient. You can wait in his office if you want.”
She wanted, but his office was at the back and her pain wasn’t decreasing.
“Or I could help you to an exam room,” Joanie suggested. “You’re looking a little beaten up.”
Pretense with Joanie wasn’t needed, so she didn’t bother. “Help would be great.”
Joanie rounded the desk and moved to Delancey’s left side. She wrapped a supporting arm around Delancey’s waist and welcomed her weight. Relinquishing control, she leaned on a woman she’d often joked should teach classes on awesomeness as a mother.
“Hard day at work?” Joanie asked as they neared the closest exam room.
“Floor in a house gave way. Then a wall fell on me. I’ve had better.”
“I knew you’d be in danger with that job.” She led Delancey to the adjustment table. “That sounds bad though.”
Sitting and getting completely off her feet slowed the blood flow, which helped immensely with the pain. “It would have been if I wasn’t surrounded by a great group of men. They moved quickly to get me free.”
“If I thought we’d get you back with us full-time I’d remind you that you were never faced with that kind of thing here.”
Joanie had always been like a wise aunt to Delancey. Whether the care was physical, mental or emotional support, she was everything Delancey could have wanted in her own mother.
“I know, but I’ve never felt more alive than I have since starting the new job.” Though the job was only part of the reason. Logan brightened her days when they were together and gave her something to look forward to when she wasn’t with him.
“Well, aside from the pain you’re in, you do have a new glow.” Joanie smiled. “I wonder if it’s all work.”
Delancey smiled as more thoughts of Logan popped in. “There is a man.”
“My Thomas will be happy and sad at the same time.” Joanie went to a cabinet in the corner and retrieved an instant ice pack. Cracking it in half, she worked the gel inside. “He’s always held a torch for you.”
“And I’d be lucky to have him.”
Joanie sat the ice pack on Delancey’s ankle, pressing gently enough to shape it without causing more discomfort. “But he doesn’t give you that glow.”
The relief f
or her ankle was instant, and Delancey had enough insight into physical therapy to know some of the relief came from the company, understanding and thoughts of Logan.
“Mom.” Thomas glanced at the ice pack on Delancey’s ankle while he talked to Joanie. “Mrs. Combs is ready to schedule her next appointment.”
“It’s always good to see you, Delancey. But we prefer different circumstances.”
“Thanks, Joanie.”
Thomas crossed his arms and shook his head. “What have you done?”
“I battled a floor and wall a couple hours ago. The winner has yet to be determined.” She told him about her ankle and shoulder, describing how the pain had progressed since the fire.
“You need to be more careful.”
“Risks of the job.”
He squatted at her feet and examined the damage she’d done. Moving her foot around a little, studying her face while he did, he shook his head again. “You dislocated a few bones and strained some ligaments.”
“I was afraid of that.” Depending on the extent of the damage, it was an injury that could land her on restricted duty for a long while. “How bad?”
“That depends on how well you follow my instructions.”
“I’m a very good patient.” Especially if it meant a quick recovery.
“That remains to be seen.” He lifted her foot so her leg was extended straight. With a quick movement, he pulled her foot, popping the dislocated bones back into place. After the initial shooting shock of pain the throbbing she’d ignored pretty well backed off.
She’d thought she dislocated her shoulder, but had instead compressed it. It was tight after Thomas’s adjustment, but her range of motion was better. For good measure, he did a full-body adjustment.
“I’m going to make sure you get an adjustment once a week to keep you in shape for the demands of that job,” Thomas promised. “In the meantime, you’re taking some time off here to make sure you’re recovered.”
She wasted no time arguing with Thomas. Her therapy schedule was flexible, but she wouldn’t mind some time off.
With a crutch to keep weight off her foot and instructions to spend her days off doing as little as possible while icing her injuries and elevating her foot as necessary, she went to Logan’s. She was more confident he’d be happy to see her than she was confident she’d be ready to work next shift.
He opened the door and his gaze immediately went to the crutch. “What happened?”
She told him about the floor and followed him to the couch where he piled pillows on the table. His hands shook as he lifted her foot onto them. “I’ll get you an ice pack.”
“Two would be better. Though for the second, could you just put some cubes in a Ziploc bag?”
“Why two?”
She hated the fear on Logan’s face and didn’t want to add to it. Seeing her hurt because of her job could be all the reason he needed to stop seeing her, and she had too much fun with him to see it end. “Shoulder.”
He stared at her a long time with his only movement being the rise and fall of his chest. He went to the kitchen, leaving her nothing to do but wonder how badly she’d messed things up between them.
However upset he was, it would be worse when she told him about the video and the apparent plan to use the media to find Ashley’s killer.
One thing she’d noticed in their time together was that while Logan could talk about Ashley, he couldn’t make himself talk about the fire. The few times she’d brought it up or he tried to talk about it he started shaking and shut down. Shaking like he had when he’d lifted her foot.
The visit with Joanie had brought the dream of a future with Logan to the forefront of her mind, but his reaction to her injuries brought her doubts to light.
Logan stared at the button for ice, unable to lift his hand to fill the bag. Inanimate objects like a crutch should be powerless. Instead, he became powerless against the impact of seeing Delancey injured.
Petite or not, she was the strongest woman he’d ever crossed paths with. He’d seen her as a woman made for helping others, a woman who possibly saw him as a mission. He wanted to be with her, but not on an uneven footing.
“This is your chance to help her, to find out if your relationship is real or one-sided.”
Dreading what he knew he’d see if he turned, he shored up his defenses and faced his sister. “Why are you here?”
“Doing my sisterly duty.”
“You mean ghostly?”
“Whichever.” She ran a finger around her wineglass until it whistled with a high pitch. “I’m making sure you don’t let fear get in the way of what you said you wanted.”
“Delancey?”
“A partner who needs you like you need her.”
“I never said that.” But he’d thought it.
“See. It is what you want.” Ashley pointed to the living room. “There’s an amazing woman on your couch who makes you happy. You want me to stay gone? Don’t screw it up.”
He should be used to the terrain of his life constantly changing beneath his feet. Meeting Delancey, spending time with her and getting to know her had felt like good changes. She was the perfect woman, except for being a firefighter who put her life in danger.
When he’d opened the door to find her on a crutch, the beat of his heart had slowed by half before slamming into hyperdrive. It had stayed at that speed until Ashley’s appearance.
Slightly settled, he filled the Ziploc bag with ice and grabbed a regular ice pack and a couple of towels for wrapping them in. He was no less bothered by her job-related injuries when he joined her in the living room, but he was trying to take Ashley’s advice to not screw it up.
“Sorry it took so long.” He held up the two ice bags. “Which do you want on your ankle?”
She pointed to the regular one and smiled when he settled the gel pack over her ankle. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Incredibly, taking care of her, even something as simple as getting an ice pack, gave him great pleasure. That sensation alone, impressive in its weight, set his hands to shaking again.
She slipped her arm through her shirt sleeve and took the Ziploc bag and a towel from him. “Everything okay?”
“Sure.” His eyes followed her hand as she gripped the bag in the towel and rubbed the ice in circles over her shoulder. Her extremely bruised shoulder.
“You sure you’re okay?” Delancey asked.
He nodded and moved to sit beside her, nodding at her shoulder. “The floor didn’t do that.”
“While my foot was pinned a wall fell.”
“You were pinned beneath a wall?” Memories of being trapped beneath the weight of a beam clashed with images of Delancey being trapped. He’d spent the entirety of her shift trying not to think about what calls she might be responding to.
Sleep had been elusive when he’d been freshly out of the hospital, but he’d gotten some. Sleep while Delancey was on shift, especially after the time they’d spent together the last time she was off, had been impossible. He took it as a clear sign he had fallen for her. Or if he hadn’t already fallen was well on the way to doing so.
“I can say anything you want to try to minimize what happened.”
“But you’re not going to?”
She shook her head. “Anything I come up with would be a lie. We both know fires are dangerous. And we both know I can’t do what I do and avoid it.”
“That’s the problem I’m having.”
“What?”
“You being in danger. Me sitting around here, trying to work or sleep but only succeeding at thinking about you and the dangers you may be facing.”
Delancey chewed on her bottom lip, staring straight ahead. Her chin shook. Her voice trembled. “Do you want to stop seeing me? Would that help?”
“It might.” He linked his fingers with hers. “If I didn’t care so much for you.”
Tears pooled on her bottom lids and threatened to spill when she faced him. “You care about me?
”
“Yes. And it’s scary as hell.”
Her tears left shiny tracks on her cheeks before flowing around the curve of her smile. “I might know a little something about that.”
The whispered admission had him inching closer on the couch. His question came out as a ragged whisper almost too afraid to be heard. “Really?”
She chuckled. “Don’t we make a pair? Both too wounded or afraid to believe they might have found a special someone.”
Aware that she hadn’t said “the” special someone, as if leaving room for an escape, he tapped a finger against his knee. He wasn’t going to question it, because he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t want the escape. “Cowards unite.”
Chapter Sixteen
Delancey opened and closed her mouth several times and played with the ice bag rather than actually using it. Where their previous conversation had been easy, if occasionally uncomfortable, this one felt heavy and painful.
“Logan,” she started again. “I have to tell you something.”
“Sounds as ominous as ‘we need to talk’.”
“Because it is.” She rubbed the ice bag over her shoulder in a circular motion. “It could give you the closure you need or it could increase the pain you’re already fighting.”
“You trying to protect me again?”
“No. I’m trying to make sure the memory of Ashley is treated with the proper respect.”
Definitely as ominous as we need to talk. “How’s she not getting that?”
“I heard today Schneider’s working with the cops on the investigation into Ashley’s death.”
He didn’t want to think about it, because his time with Delancey was the one time his mind relaxed. She was robbing him of that peace, but she was offering an equally important honesty. The approach simultaneously suggested and demanded respect. “And?”
“And your willingness to meet and talk with them might make their jobs easier.”
“I’ve done what I can to aid the investigation. I’ve given a list of our clients to the cops.”
“But you haven’t talked to Schneider or the cops recently, which means you don’t know what they’re planning.”
