by Lisa Childs
Wyatt had been Matthew’s hero for years and was therefore invincible in his eyes. Fiona knew that he was actually just a man—a man who had willingly put his life on the line to rescue others. She should have been furious with him for taking that risk. She should have been furious with herself for falling for him even though she’d known he routinely took such risks.
But as she watched all those distraught parents, all she could do was thank God for men like Wyatt Andrews—brave men full of heart and determination who knew no fear.
*
WYATT HAD NEVER been so afraid. His heart raced with it as his lungs struggled for breath. He’d had to don his oxygen mask. But was there enough? Would it last?
Did it matter? He wasn’t sure how the hell he was going to make it out of the fire. But that was the least of his concerns. They were his concern. He stepped from the smoke into the middle of a nightmare.
The twelve kids looked like statues—huddled together—as if that would protect them. The Scout leaders, two young men who didn’t look much older than the kids of whom they were in charge, stood over them. He could see them shaking with fear, with indecision.
They had strayed from the campsite. That was why it had been harder to find them. But even through the smoke, he’d found their tracks—the footprints, the broken branches. They’d run from the fire as hard and fast as they could. But that was before it had shifted. Soon it would overcome them.
Knowing that they were going after campers, Wyatt had grabbed a couple extra packs. But he didn’t have enough shelters—the aluminized sleeping bags—for everyone.
He removed his oxygen mask and spoke loudly, to be heard over the crackling fire. “We need to move.”
If he could get them to land that the fire had already consumed, they might have a chance. He clapped his gloves together, but they made no sound. The gesture snapped the kids out of their paralysis, though, and they began to move. But the fire was too close. There wasn’t enough time to get them back to burned land.
He looked for the next best thing—for bare land. It had been a rough winter in northeastern Michigan—rough enough that not all the vegetation had started growing back yet. He found an area that might work. He dropped his packs and pulled out some picks and small shovels. “Help me clear,” he told them. If they could get the land bare…
The kids were small, though. And scared. And the Scout leaders were equally as terrified. He needed more help or none of them would make it when the fire caught them.
And it would…
*
HOURS LATER, WYATT led the ragged troop out of the still-smoldering forest. He couldn’t believe they’d made it back. He actually wasn’t certain they had…until he saw her.
Of course, she could be an angel, because if angels existed, they couldn’t be any more beautiful than she was. She moved around the staging tent, bringing cups of coffee and bottles of water to nervous couples who sat around, clutching each other. She offered comforting pats on shoulders, squeezed hands. And all the while her face remained tight with her own worry and fear.
She was afraid for him? Even after how he’d misled her, she cared about him. Sure, he hadn’t been able to tell her anything about Matt’s application. But he could have more heartily assured her the kid had no chance of making the team. He had not been as honest with her as he should have been. He didn’t deserve her.
And she didn’t deserve to feel that fear. She’d told him why she hadn’t wanted to get involved with him. She’d told him that she couldn’t fall for a man like him—one who risked his life. She’d said she wouldn’t survive the worry and the eventual loss. But he had put her through it anyway.
He had to let her go. He’d thought it before, that they were over. That this—whatever it was—was truly done.
When he’d been out in that fire—in the thick of the smoke and the heat of the flames—he had admitted to himself what it really was. Love.
He loved Fiona O’Brien. And because he loved her, he’d fought the fire. He’d battled through the blaze to get back to her.
Only to let her go.
Because there would be other fires, and he wouldn’t be able to fight them without thinking of her, looking so terrified as she rushed around the tent. He never wanted her to experience that fear again.
Finally the crowd turned and noticed them standing there—him, Cody and Dawson and the little kids with their soot-streaked faces. Their eyes wide with fear and exhaustion.
First an eerie silence fell over the tent. Then shrieks of joy rang out.
19
FIONA’S HEART LIFTED with hope as the parents vaulted out of their seats and rushed toward their children. The kids had survived the fire. Had Wyatt?
Then she saw him, standing tall behind them. His face black with soot, his hair slick with sweat. He had never looked more handsome to her. He was staring at her, his blue eyes wide, as if he couldn’t believe she was there.
She was the one who’d thought she would never see him again. Before she could get to him, people surrounded him. Parents thumped his back and hugged him, pouring out gratitude for what he had done.
For saving their kids…
If not for Wyatt and men like him, how many lives would be lost every year?
“You get it now?” Matthew asked her.
Emotion choking her, she could only nod. She got it. She understood that she had misjudged her brother. Maybe he hadn’t wanted the job for the thrill of danger and the glory of being the hero or even for the women. Maybe he’d only wanted to save people like Wyatt had.
“I’m sorry,” she told her brother. “I’m sorry you didn’t make the department.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said.
“But I know you wanted it,” she said. “And now I understand why. You can always apply again.”
His eyes widened with shock at her encouragement. And she realized how right Wyatt had been in how he’d handled her brother and how he’d advised her to handle him. He’d offered support and encouragement.
All she had done was criticize his choices.
“Thanks,” he said. “But I think I’ll go back to school. I’ll finish up my degree.” He smiled and waited. “What? No whoop of victory?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to win,” she said. “I just want you to be happy.” And that was all she ever should have wanted for him. He was a grown man—not the little boy she’d been forced to leave. She couldn’t protect him from pain or from the dangers of the world. All she could do was love him.
“I want the same for you, sis,” he said. And he followed her gaze to Wyatt.
Most of all, she had misjudged Wyatt.
She knew now why he did what he did—so nobody else would suffer the way he had when he’d lost his parents in that fire all those years ago. He had been about the age these boys were; maybe it was that sense of kinship with them that had compelled him to ignore Braden’s orders. Or maybe just sheer stubbornness…
Either way, he had done the right thing. He’d saved lives. Camera bulbs flashed as reporters took photos from their positions just outside the tent. His handsome, soot-streaked face would probably be on the front of every local paper, maybe even some national magazines.
He was a hero. Not just to the families of the Boy Scouts. Or even to the nation. He was her hero, too.
*
HAD SHE LEFT? Wyatt wouldn’t blame her if she had. This wasn’t the life she’d wanted. It was the exact opposite of the safe, stable world she had created for herself. That she needed…
He needed her—so much he almost considered giving up the job. At least, the thought had passed through his mind when he’d worried that he wouldn’t get those scared kids to safety. If he’d failed to rescue them and had risked never seeing Fiona again, never kissing her, never tasting her…
What would have been the point of being a Hotshot?
But now, seeing the joy on the faces of the kids’ families, Wyatt wasn’t
sure he could walk away.
Even for her…
A strong hand gripped his arm, pulling him around. He expected the embrace of another grateful father. He’d been hugged so many times he’d lost count. But it was Braden instead—pulling him into a tight embrace. Their Huron Hotshots team was close, as a rule, but they didn’t usually openly display emotion.
They’d be more likely to slug each other than hug each other, and after Wyatt had ignored his direct order, Braden had every reason to hit him. Especially when he should have known his insubordination would lead others to disobey orders, as well. After Cody and Dawson had gotten the rest of the team out, they’d come back for him—just in time. They’d helped him and the kids clear the land down to bare dirt. Then they’d had to squeeze themselves, the kids and Scout leaders into the special shelters. Fortunately, Dawson had thought to bring extra packs with him, as well.
For once putting all his joking aside, Wyatt told his superintendent, “I’m sorry.”
“You made the right call,” Braden admitted. “You saved fourteen lives.”
“I didn’t do it alone.” He shifted, trying to ease out of his boss’s hug.
But then he realized the reason the superintendent had wanted to get so close when Braden whispered, “Looks like arson…”
Son of a bitch…
Anger coursed through him. Someone had purposely set that fire—had purposely destroyed acres of land and nearly the lives of a dozen kids. He cursed aloud. But Braden finally pulled back and shook his head.
The last thing they needed was for this to leak to the media before they’d had a chance to investigate fully. He nodded in understanding.
“You kept saying this one was going to be a monster,” Cody said as he joined them. “I’m never going to doubt you again.”
Braden slapped Cody, lightly, upside the head. “Be certain that you don’t,” he admonished the newest member of the team. While he hadn’t scolded Wyatt or even accepted his apology, Braden needed to remind Cody who was in charge.
He was young, more in maturity than years. But he would learn—if he stuck around. Growing up a foster kid, Cody was used to moving around a lot. That was why being a Hotshot had appealed to him. But being on the team was like having a family. Cody had never had that before. Wyatt wondered if it would be enough to make Cody want to stay.
Braden and Cody walked away to join Dawson. They spoke in hushed tones. Anyone else would have probably considered it a debriefing or maybe even a dressing down, but Wyatt knew Braden was telling them about the arson.
He needed to join them. Ordinarily they wouldn’t investigate an arson. They wouldn’t do anything but put out the heart of the fire. But this was different.
It had happened in their home base. In their national forest.
It was personal.
Before Wyatt could move, another hand slapped his back—like so many hands had before. He wasn’t sure he deserved the praise; maybe he would have learned more from the slap Braden had given Cody. He needed some sense knocked into him. How had he considered—even for a moment—giving up the job? Especially when there was somebody out there deliberately setting fires.
This one might not have been his first. But Wyatt knew for certain that it wouldn’t be the arsonist’s last. Firebugs didn’t stop starting fires until they were caught. And sometimes, even then, they couldn’t help themselves…
The back slapper murmured, “I’m glad you made it safely out…”
He turned to Matt, and his heart twisted with regret. The poor kid had been so disappointed—in Wyatt, in his sister. “I’m surprised you came down,” he said. During their last confrontation, Matt had disowned him as both a friend and a mentor.
“Of course I came down,” Matt said. “You’ve been there for me the past six years. I wanted to be here for you.”
Apparently they were friends again. Wyatt was glad.
“So did she,” Matt said. “I brought Fiona.”
Remembering how he’d seen her when he’d first stepped into the tent, so tense and terrified, Wyatt shook his head. “That might not have been a good idea.”
“It actually was.” Matt beamed with pride. “She was great. She is great.”
For those few moments when they’d first appeared unannounced, Wyatt had watched her. He’d seen how, even as scared as she’d been, she had tried to take care of and comfort everyone. She was amazing.
“Yes, she is.”
“I was wrong about her,” Matt said. “I was wrong about so many things…”
He was glad that the kid had finally come to his senses and gained an appreciation for his sister. “You should take her home,” Wyatt suggested. “She must be exhausted.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” a soft voice remarked. There was steel beneath the softness—a strength he’d known existed but the depth of which he hadn’t guessed.
“You should know by now not to argue with her,” Matt said. He pulled Wyatt into a tight hug and murmured, “I’m sorry.”
Before Wyatt could ask him why, the kid slipped away through the crowd—leaving Fiona with him. “Why’d he apologize?”
“Either because he knows you had nothing to do with his not getting hired into the fire department,” she said, “or because he left me here with you.” Her brow furrowed as she stared after her brother, and she said, “I’m sorry that he did.”
He was the one who owed her the apology. For so many things…
“You’re busy here.” She glanced outside the tent at the all-pervasive smoke. “The fire might not even be out yet. Do you have to go back?”
He listened for the fear he was certain the thought inspired in her. But he heard nothing in her voice. Maybe she didn’t care as much as he’d thought.
“We got the breaks in,” he said. “It’s contained now and should be out soon.”
She uttered a sigh of relief. “That’s good. That’s great.”
“I don’t have to go back out,” he said. This time. But there would be other fires. Would she be able to handle that? Would she want to?
“I have other stuff I need to do, though…” Like help catch an arsonist. “I’ll have to have someone drive you home.”
“No.”
The sharpness of her tone startled him. “Fiona, are you all right?”
She shook her head as if she wasn’t. But then she murmured, “I’m so happy…” even as tears filled her eyes.
A twinge of pain struck his heart—with regret and guilt. He hated that he had made her cry. He had to let her go; he couldn’t put her through this again.
But then she was hugging him, her arms winding tightly around his back. Even through his gear, he could feel the soft crush of her breasts. Maybe he could even feel the heat of her body—or perhaps it was just the vividness of his imagination and his memories of their bodies being so close, sliding over each other.
He had to smell like smoke and sweat and sawdust. But she buried her face in his chest as if she didn’t care. Of course, she smelled like smoke, too. It was so thick in the air that it had permeated everything. He needed a shower. But most of all he needed her.
Could he find the selflessness to push her away? He moved his hands to her shoulders. But he couldn’t bring himself to shove her back. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything but close his arms around her and hold on to her.
He flinched as cameras flashed again—reporters finding a photo op in their embrace. Maybe they thought she was another grateful parent. If they asked what she was to him, he wasn’t sure what he would say.
He might only be able to admit the truth to himself—that she was the love of his life.
20
FIONA FLOATED ON a wave of love, buoyed by her feelings for Wyatt and her relief that he was alive. Was he actually alive? Or had she dreamed it? Had she just imagined him walking into that tent with all those kids he’d rescued?
For just a second, she let herself imagine the alternative—that he hadn’t
come out of the fire. That the flames had consumed him…
She jerked awake with a scream on her lips and the smell of smoke burning her nostrils.
“Shh…” a deep voice murmured. “I’ve got you.” Strong arms tightened around her as he carried her upstairs. His boots clomped heavily against the cement steps while cement block walls lined the stairwell. “You’re okay…”
More important, he was okay. He was alive.
A sigh of relief slipped through her lips. Then she ran her fingers through his hair and clung to him. He was warm and strong and real. She wasn’t dreaming. But she glanced around, uncertain of their location.
“Where are we?” she asked.
She’d gone back with him to the firehouse for his debriefing. Before waking up in Wyatt’s arms, the last thing she remembered was lying down on the couch in Superintendent Zimmer’s office.
“We’re still at the firehouse,” he said. “I need to shower.”
A smile curved her lips. “Why are you carrying me?”
He sniffed at her hair. “Because you need to shower, too.”
She gasped at the salacious thought, but then quickly returned to reality. “What about the other members of your team?”
“They can shower alone,” he said.
“Wyatt!”
“They actually already did. They’re all gone,” he assured her. “It’s just you and me.” His footsteps echoed hollowly as he left the stairwell and started down a hall. The building certainly sounded empty.
“They went home?” she asked.
He nodded. “The fire’s contained. It’s burning itself out. It won’t be much longer now.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. The fire had burned for hours before Matthew had brought her to the command center. And they’d spent hours there, waiting for word on Wyatt. Waiting to see if he made it out…
So the fire, the monster Superintendent Zimmer had predicted, had burned for a couple of days already. Now that it was contained, it would be out soon. She hoped.
“But there will be more fires,” he warned her.
She knew it. Of course there would be. But he seemed a little more certain than that. Or maybe he was just trying to scare her away again.
