With Valor and Devotion

by Charlotte Maclay

  “No, ma’am.”

  From the corner of her eye, Kristin noticed Randy get up from the recliner he’d chosen and walk away.

  Mike took her arm again, his touch becoming more familiar—more welcome—each time she felt the warmth of his hand on her.

  “I’ll show you my sleeping quarters and then we’ll go check out Big Red.”

  “Big Red?”

  “We’re restoring an old fire engine. That’s kind of what gave me the idea to get a fire truck for the village in Kosovo.”

  Nodding, she let him lead her down a hallway. It was at that moment she noticed Randy open a door to what appeared to be a dark closet—

  —and vanish downward out of sight.

  “Randy!” She spun away from Mike and raced to the door, which was already closing. She yanked it open. “Oh, my God! Mike! Randy fell down this hole! He’s—”

  “Easy, princess. I’ll get him.” He eased her out of the way—

  —then dropped out of sight the way Randy had.

  Kristin’s heart plummeted downward with them. “Dear heaven…”

  Diaz, a wiry man not much taller than Kristin, pulled her back from the precipice. “It’s all right, ma’am. That’s the pole we use to get down to the fire trucks in a hurry when we get an alarm. The boy will be fine.”

  Immediately chagrined when she belatedly saw the six-inch-diameter pole—and a little weak in the knees—she laughed at her mistake. “I guess I just made a fool of myself, didn’t I, screaming like that?”

  “Not at all, ma’am. You screamed because you care about the boy. About Mike, too, I imagine.”

  Kristin wanted to deny his words. But picturing Mike and Randy in a crumpled heap at the bottom of that hole had nearly killed her. Her lungs had collapsed, her heart had filled her throat. The sense of loss she’d felt, visualizing them both broken and dead, had nearly driven her to her knees.

  Dammit! She wasn’t supposed to care that much about a child whose casework she was supervising. Or a sweet-talking man who waxed on about diamonds and emeralds but didn’t believe in commitment.

  A man who was in many ways a carbon copy of Lyle, who had left her high and dry when she’d been pregnant.

  But not in every way, a small voice of fairness reminded her. Mike wouldn’t desert his own son.

  Diaz escorted her downstairs where they found Mike eyeball-to-eyeball with Randy giving him a lecture about the importance of safety. Kristin had to forcefully suppress a sigh of relief that they were both in one piece. She rationalized her concerns were only for Randy. If he’d been hurt, her boss would have handed her her head for placing the youngster with an irresponsible man.

  “Now, apologize to Ms. McCoy for scaring her, Randy,” Mike insisted.

  Showing little remorse, the youngster looked up at her through long, dark lashes.

  “I was afraid you’d hurt yourself,” Kristin said.

  He didn’t appear convinced. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  Kneeling, she instinctively drew him into her arms and hugged him tight. He resisted at first, his slender body tensing as if he weren’t used to being held by anyone and didn’t know quite how to react. But slowly he relaxed and his little arms reached around her, hugging her back.

  Kristin tugged her lower lip between her teeth and fought the tears that burned at the back of her eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered.

  “I wasn’t scared or nuthin’. It was fun.”

  Lord help the woman who volunteered to be this child’s mother.

  She glanced up to see Mike smiling, as unrepentant as the boy, and as secretly proud as if he were this little daredevil’s father. She nearly groaned aloud.

  Dear heaven, they were two of a kind!

  Chapter Seven

  “Come on, you two,” Mike said. The emotion he’d seen in Kristin’s eyes, and the way she’d held the boy so tightly, was both beautiful and terrifying. But she had Permanence stamped all over her. That was scarier for him than going into a building filled with black smoke. He wasn’t a permanent kind of guy. The department was his family. That’s all he needed, all he really wanted. All he could trust. “Let’s check out Big Red.”

  Randy pulled away from Kristin. “Tommy’s taking care of Suzie ’n’ she’s making friends with Buttons.”

  Kristin gave the youngster a quizzical look, but the kid took off at a dead run before she got any answers.

  “Tommy’s our resident mechanical genius,” Mike explained, feeling on safe ground again. “Mack Buttons is the station’s mascot, a chocolate dalmatian.”

  “Chocolate?”

  “Brown spots. It’s kinda neat, really.”

  Kristin stood, her arms feeling empty with Randy no longer in her embrace. She really needed to keep her distance from the boy. Soon she’d find him a foster family. The police might still be able to locate biological kin. In either case, she’d have far less contact with the boy. She couldn’t let him break her heart all over again in the same way it had been broken by the loss of her own son.

  Nor could she allow a closeness with Mike that was likely to do the same thing when Randy no longer provided a reason for him to see her.

  Following Mike out to the back of the fire station, she expected to see a man up to his elbows in grease—or maybe an aging firefighter who’d been relegated to garage mechanic duties. But the young man who was standing inside the compartment of the old fire engine where the motor used to be wasn’t a day over fifteen and had adolescent acne to prove it.

  Randy made a beeline for Suzie, who was tied up to the rear bumper of the fire truck that looked as if it had been built in the 1930s. A beautifully sleek dalmatian trotted over to greet Mike, then offered Kristin a friendly wag of his tail.

  “You must be Buttons,” she said, petting the dog between his ears. In contrast with Suzie’s shaggy, variegated fur, Buttons’s coat was velvety smooth.

  “He rides Engine 61 when we go out on a run,” Mike explained. “You wouldn’t believe how many times we use him to calm down excited victims or even search for them, at least unofficially, if we have people trapped or unaccounted for.”

  “He’s beautiful.”

  “And this kid is Tommy Tonka,” Mike said, indicating the youngster standing inside the engine compartment. “He knows more about old engines than Henry Ford did.”

  The boy flushed a bright red.

  “Nice to meet you, Tommy. Mike tells me you’re in charge.”

  “Naw, not really.” He hung his head as though seeking some secret in the hidden recesses of the engine compartment.

  “How come you’re not in school today?” Mike asked.

  The boy shrugged his narrow shoulders. “It’s summer vacation.”

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot.”

  Randy hopped up into the driver’s seat and made engine-revving noises with all the enthusiasm a six-year-old can muster. “I’m gonna be a fireman when I’m growed up.” He added a siren to his sound effects.

  Under his breath, Mike said, “That’s assuming he survives his childhood.”

  Tommy responded to Mike’s comment in the same quiet voice. “If I was you, Mike, I’d put him on a leash.”

  Both Kristin and Mike laughed. That wasn’t such a bad idea.

  “Anyway,” Mike said, “Big Red is a beaut, isn’t she?” He ran his hand affectionately over the brightly colored fender, which had been recently repainted. “Paseo del Real had her stashed away in the city yard since the sixties. All the firefighters got together and decided we ought to restore her. We plan to have her ready to roll by the Founders’ Day parade. Isn’t that right, Tommy?”

  “She’ll be ready.” The adolescent flushed an even brighter red at having said something so emphatic about his project.

  Although Kristin had never had a particular affinity for fire engines, she could see the pride in both Tommy’s and Mike’s eyes. Probably the entire city’s fire department felt the same way. This was their baby. Its restoration gav
e them a way to strut their stuff.

  “We’re still trying to decide who’ll get the honor of driving her in the parade,” Mike said. “My bet’s on Tommy.”

  The boy hung his head again. “I don’t even have a license yet.”

  “I’ll drive!” Randy shouted, revving his make-believe engine again.

  Kristin rolled her eyes.

  A shout came from the training tower. Kristin looked up to see a firefighter in full regalia rappelling down the outside of the four-story building. Instantly her palms began to sweat. Dear heaven, if that rope gave way….

  “Do you do that sort of thing often?” she asked.

  Mike shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure. It’s all part of the training. Some of our guys are rock climbers. I prefer scuba diving myself.”

  Standing on the seat of the fire truck, Randy watched the descending firefighter. “Wow! That’s cool!”

  “Don’t even think about it, big guy,” Mike said gruffly.

  Kristin mentally echoed the same sentiment.

  When the firefighter safely reached the ground, Kristin said, “The men look pretty well occupied at the moment. It’s probably not a good time to try to recruit them as foster parents. I’d better get back to the office.”

  “You’re probably right,” Mike agreed. “But there is something else I’d like you to see before you go. I understand from my buddy Jay that his new bride was impressed.”

  She raised a skeptical brow. “What’s that?”

  Checking to see that Randy was behaving himself, Mike took Kristin’s hand and led her back into the bay where the fire trucks were housed. “You ever see the movie Backdraft?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, there’s a little thing they did in that show that’s every firefighter’s fantasy.” They stopped at the back bumper of Engine 61.

  “I’ve really got to go, Mike. I’ve got tons of paperwork to do.” And she wasn’t in the mood for fulfilling anyone’s fantasy—including her own, which she didn’t want to examine too carefully.

  His hands closed around her waist, shocking her with his unexpected intimacy, and he lifted her onto the back bumper of the fire truck.

  “Look at it this way, princess. You might never get another chance like this.”

  “Mike! I don’t want—” Before she realized what was happening, she was all the way on top of the truck sitting on the coiled rows of hose. “What are you—”

  “The couple in the movie made love on top of one of these babies.”

  “I won’t—I wouldn’t think of—I’m not going to do any such thing.” She sputtered her objection and started to scramble away, but she wasn’t able to entirely suppress the thrill of anticipation at his erotic suggestion. “Randy and that boy, Tommy, are right outside—”

  “That’s why I only plan to steal a kiss. This time…”

  He took her in his arms, his gaze hypnotic. Seductive. Paralyzing. And she watched in fascination as he lowered his head toward her.

  His lips were warm, molding to hers effortlessly, as though they’d been formed to fit together. His kiss was as sensual, as skilled, as she had known it would be. He possessed her, tantalizing her senses, coaxing her to open for him. Unable to resist, she surrendered with a sigh that came from deep inside her lonely soul.

  Instinctively, her hand sought the back of his neck, tugging to bring him closer. Her fingers threaded themselves through the short hairs at his nape while her tongue toyed with his. He tasted of coffee and potent masculinity, his unique flavor arousing her.

  This was what she’d missed last night when Tammilee interrupted them—the building passion, the provocative sensation of flesh touching flesh intimately, the primal knowledge of where this could lead. The desire to go there with Mike no matter the cost to her heart.

  She moaned as he leaned her back onto the rough rows of hose. A metal connector dug into her spine, but she ignored the discomfort as his hand cupped her breast. Deep inside, her womb clenched. Her breathing grew ragged as his lips slipped away from her mouth, his tongue relentlessly exploring the sensitive spot just below her ear, the column of her throat, stroking the pulse point. Her heart thundered in her chest.

  “Mike…”

  “Beautiful princess.” His voice rasped a rough note that matched her own raging desire.

  “Hey, Mike!” a voice called, so distant it seemed as though it were coming from a different world.

  “Not now,” Mike murmured against her lips. “I’m busy.”

  “Randy climbed up to the top of the tower,” the voice said more insistently. “I think you’d better come. Now!”

  Mike bolted to a sitting position. “Damn! If that kid doesn’t fall off the tower and break his neck, I’m gonna break it for him.”

  With that, Mike virtually flew off the back of the fire truck, leaving Kristin breathless, frustrated, and stunned by her reckless behavior. What on earth had she been thinking? Or had she been thinking at all?

  She scrambled to go after Mike, trying to keep her skirt from going over her head in the process, snagging her panty hose on the canvas hose. Putting Randy on a leash was sounding better and better—assuming he didn’t break his neck, as Mike had said. A short leash was likely the only thing that would ensure she retained her job with Children’s Services.

  “Ma’am, do you need some help getting down?” Tommy asked from the rear of the truck, his acne a bright tomato red.

  She forced a smile. “Thanks, but I think I can manage.” What she couldn’t seem to manage was some modicum of restraint when it came to Mike Gables.

  THAT EVENING, Mike leaned over to kiss Randy goodnight. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

  Instead of laughing as he had before, the kid looked up at him with big solemn eyes. “Mike, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.” He could only hope it wasn’t one of those birds-and-bees questions. He wasn’t sure he was ready to handle that.

  “What’s gonna happen to me when you have to go back to work?”

  “Well, let’s see.” Scooting Suzie over, Mike sat down on the edge of the couch. “I’ve got one more day off. Maybe by then Ms. McCoy will find a really good family for you and Suzie.”

  The boy’s mouth shifted into a troubled pout. “Shane said nobody would want a dumb ol’ dog.”

  “Suzie does make it harder to find you a family, but Kristin—Ms. McCoy—is really determined.” She’d also fled the fire station the moment she’d seen Randy safely on the ground after his escapade on the fire tower. She was the most elusive woman Mike had ever met, slipping through his fingers like fire-retardant foam from a hose. Except she hadn’t come close to dampening his desire for her. He’d never realized the fresh scent of citrus could be so arousing.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Randy asked.

  “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  Wrinkling his forehead, the boy pondered that announcement for a moment. “I guess I like her too.”

  “She’d be glad to hear that, son.”

  “Why don’t you marry her? Then she could take care of me when you’re not working.”

  Mike choked as though he’d just swallowed his foot whole. He’d certainly stuck it in his mouth far enough. “That’s not how it works, kid.”

  “Why not? You said you like her.”

  “Yes, but—” Sweat formed in his armpits and beaded on his forehead. “I’m not the marrying kind, remember?”

  “Then maybe I could stay by myself. Suzie could watch out for me and not let any bad guys get me or nothin’.”

  The dog’s tail twitched at the mention of her name. She was probably less of a guard dog than a stuffed animal would be, so friendly with strangers she’d lick them to death.

  “I don’t think that would work out too well, buddy.”

  “But I don’t wanna go back to the Gramercys’!” His little chin trembled. “Shane’s gonna beat me up again.”

  “If you could just tell us where we co
uld find a relative of yours—an aunt or uncle, your grandmother? There’s gotta be someone who could look out for you.”

  Agitated, Randy flipped over on his other side, burying his face in his pillow. His slender body shook with a silent sob.

  Mike stroked the back of the boy’s head with his hand. God, how he remembered the nights when he’d desperately wanted someone to want him. Not someone who was paid to take care of him. And it hurt like hell he’d never found that someone. After a while he’d realized he had a serious character flaw. He didn’t deserve to be loved.

  “We’ll figure out something, son.” He hesitated a heartbeat before he said, “I promise.” There had to be some way to find Randy’s real family and make them accept responsibility for the boy.

  Standing, he switched on the desk lamp then went to the door to turn off the overhead light. “Say, kid, do you know when your birthday is?”

  “October.”

  “When in October?”

  “October second.”

  “How ’bout where you were born? Was it here in Paseo del Real?”

  Beneath the blanket, the boy’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I dunno.”

  Having a birth date wasn’t much to go on but it was better than nothing. It didn’t, however, solve the immediate problem of what to do with Randy when Mike had to go back to work.

  Whatever answer Mike came up with, Kristin McCoy would have a lot to say about it. She wasn’t an easy woman to persuade under any circumstances. When it came to one of her young charges, she’d do what she thought was best, even over the child’s objections.

  And Mike’s.

  But there was no question in his mind. He had to keep Randy—until somebody better came along. And they would. A man who’d spent his life keeping his distance from relationships sure wasn’t an ideal candidate for dad-of-the-year.

  He’d be lucky to stick it out for one day at a time. And that’s what he’d try to do.

  KRISTIN HATED what she was about to do. Disrupting a child’s life once was bad enough. But how many times had Randy had to adjust to a new environment, a new family? At least this time he was familiar with the Gramercy household.