Two Hearts Rescue: Park City Firefighter Romance

by Daniel Banner

  The lights came on.

  Slade looked up, and saw Cap standing by the doorway.

  “C’mon, hero. The guys want to hear all about your close call.”

  Slade was out of breath. In his arms, Poppy gasped quietly, and rested against him as if exhausted.

  Leaning close to her ear, Slade whispered, “I’ve never been so happy to be alive.”

  In answer she smiled so sweetly it almost brought tears to his eyes. This is where he wanted to be forever and ever.

  “Where’s your truck?” Slade had to know.

  “Daria came and got it. We had some hay donated, but it had to be picked up.”

  Only believe, thought Slade.

  “I’d give you a minute,” said Cap, “but the way you two are cuddling and carrying on, I’m afraid of what I’d find when I came back in.”

  The last thing Slade wanted to do was go tell all of the other firemen about his miracle. Actually anything except stay here with Poppy was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “They’re sending us home, right, Cap? I’m off the clock?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well then, with all due respect, you can’t tell me what to do.”

  Slade grabbed Poppy’s hand and led her as she squealed in delight, running out of the fire station.

  Epilogue

  Kalliope watched the setting sun cast its sinking light over hundreds of miles of ocean. The whole world as far as she could see was nothing but sun over smooth waters. Slade stood behind her, enveloping her completely in his arms. The cruise ship had wonders galore, but everything she wanted was right here in her suite.

  “So be honest,” she said. “You’re flexing right now, aren’t you?”

  The grip grew tighter and as firm as thick tree branches. He relaxed and even though she’d just seen the facts, she still found it hard to believe his muscular arms were at rest.

  “I want to stay here forever,” said Kalliope.

  “Mm,” agreed Slade. “You wouldn’t get any complaint from me. Remind me to thank your parents again. I knew a cruise would be incredible, but I didn’t expect this.” He gestured to the private hot tub on their patio and the luxurious cabin behind them.

  “It’s our honeymoon. Of course they would spring for the honeymoon suite.”

  “I don’t know. The way your mom was eyeing me at the reception, I expected a couple of toughs to be waiting in our suite so they could toss me off this balcony.”

  “I would have jumped in and saved you. Ah, who am I kidding? We would have drowned together.”

  “Think she’ll come around?” asked Slade. “Someday accept me?”

  “I doubt it. She still hasn’t learned to accept me.” Kalliope twisted in his arms and looked up at him. “And even though that mattered to me my whole life, now I realize I don’t have to be good enough for her.”

  She pulled him down and kissed him for the thousandth time on the ship. It was as fresh and exciting as that day in the fire station. The Day of Miracles, they’d started calling it.

  When they parted, Slade said, “I do love nothing in the world so well as you.”

  “Let me guess, Shakespeare?”

  “You got it.” He planted another kiss on her forehead and said, “As much as I want to just lock the door and not leave until we get to our home port, I have to find out what you have planned for us tonight.”

  Kalliope was nervous, but she had a feeling he’d like it. Probably. Maybe. “You’re up for whatever I ask?”

  “I would grant you anything, Kalliope Powers.”

  “Mm.” She felt chills run through her body. “Remind me to tell my mother that you are the only one allowed to call me Kalliope.”

  “Kalliope, my muse, are you ready for your wedding gift?” He slid an envelope out of his back pocket.

  “Yes!” she felt her eyes and her smile get wide as she reached for the envelope, but he held it out of her reach.

  “Just as soon as I find out the plans for tonight.”

  “Fine, but you have to promise you’ll give it to me no matter what.”

  Slade looked around, as if he was unsure they were alone. “I pinky promise.” He held out his hand and they locked pinkies.

  “No,” she said, slapping his arm with her free hand. “You don’t try to shake it. It’s a pinky promise, not a pinky shake.”

  His grin said that he knew that very well, but just wanted to make her say it.

  “Okay, it’s time to go,” said Kalliope, reluctantly slipping out of his arms and walking into their luxurious suite. “Gimme just a sec.”

  “It’s your honeymoon, my love. You can have all the secs you need.”

  Kalliope stopped and gave him a mischievous smile, trying to figure out if he had intended a double meaning. He claimed that he could read every one of her thousand smiles, but for her to know what he was thinking, she usually had to lock gazes and dive into his eyes.

  It only took a millisecond for her to decipher him this time.

  “Careful, wordsmith, or we’ll never get out of this room,” she told him. She went into their bathroom to do something with her hair and touch up her makeup. She would need to change out of her summer dress as well.

  From the other room came the sound of a fire engine siren—her ring tone.

  “Mind seeing who that is?” she called.

  After a few seconds, Slade said, “It’s Emily. And either she didn’t mean for me to read this or JFK stole her phone and texted you.”

  Kalliope hurried out of the bathroom and snatched the phone away then tucked it into her purse. “Eyes to yourself, Snoopy.” She tried to hide her blush, imagining what Emily could have texted.

  Slade smiled to himself and slipped on a lightly plaided blue dinner jacket. Man, he looked good in dark blue. Was it her bias for her man in uniform? Partially. But mostly she was just married to the biggest stud in the universe.

  The fire station family had accepted her with whole hearts and in just a few months, Emily had become one of her best friends. Emily had thrown the bridal shower with the wives and girlfriends of the other firefighters and it had escalated into the most irreverent—and fun—night since college, but without days of regret afterward.

  Thinking about days of regret, the day after the Day of Miracles she’d finally screwed up the courage to tell Slade about her past and her indiscretions in college. He said something about not letting the past ruin the future, and told her that unless she wanted to talk about it, she never had to mention it ever again. Kalliope was only too happy to oblige.

  Within seconds, she was out of one dress and into another, pausing for half a second here and there at just the right moments to drive Slade a little bit crazy. That’s right, bask in the glory of Castronaut. As she adjusted the little black dress in front of the mirror, she said, “Can you grab my mascara from the bathroom?”

  Once she was alone she realized that not only had she changed in front of him without the slightest bit of body guilt, she was wearing a dress her mother would criticize until her words tore it off like a lash. And, she was doing so while feeling good about herself. This man had changed her deeply.

  She took advantage of the alone time to stash something Slade couldn’t see yet in her purse.

  When Slade came out with her mascara, Kalliope stood by the door.

  Slade opened it smoothly and said, “Light the way, my muse.”

  In the hallway they locked arms and made their way around corners, through doors, and up escalators.

  “Escalators,” said Slade, shaking his head. “On a ship.”

  At the top of the escalator a small marquee gave away her secret. But he had to go through with it, he had promised her anything in the world.

  “Open mic night?” said Slade, nearly falling off the end of the escalator. “Comedy, poetry, music?”

  “You can’t say no to your muse,” said Kalliope. Hopefully her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

  Slade was roote
d to the grate at the top of the escalator. “As much as I’d love to fulfill your every dream, I can’t do it.” He held out his arms. “No sketch book.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing your loving wife is always looking out for you, isn’t it?” She produced the sketch book from her purse and gave him a wicked grin as she handed it to him. She hoped he wouldn’t resent being forced to do it, but the little that he had shared with her had been pretty good. Mostly she just enjoyed getting a glimpse into his soul. It didn’t hurt that every time she heard him read his poetry, it reminded her of that first time when he’d been brave enough to come to her rescue in the most precarious way a guy in his profession could. Even thinking about it made her glow like she was made of diamonds.

  “I’ll do it,” conceded Slade. “For you. But I want it to be clear that I don’t write this to share. I am not just acting reluctant, waiting for you to twist my arm the slightest amount so I can be the guy that was forced up on stage.”

  “I won’t make you do it if you don’t want to,” said Kalliope, slightly disappointed, but in no way desirous to torture him on his honeymoon. “I’d settle for a private reading.”

  “I don’t want to do it,” Slade started, then he turned and took her in his arms, “but I do want to do it for you. I may have just the piece prepared because somehow I knew I’d end up with another opportunity to lamely and futilely attempt to express how I feel about you.”

  He hadn’t even started yet, and already he’d melted her heart. She almost felt like she could skip the open mic and be perfectly satisfied. Almost. Only a crazy person would pass up an opportunity like the one she had.

  “Since we can’t really talk in there, I guess you can have this before we go in.” Slade handed her an envelope that had already been opened with a letter opener. It was addressed to Slade Powers at Powers Grant Consulting and the return address was Mercier Communications.

  It didn’t make any sense. “What is this?” she asked.

  “It’s a letter.”

  “Okay, okay, ask a stupid question get a stupid answer.” She pulled out a single, folded piece of paper.

  Mr. Powers,

  On behalf of Mercier Communications, I am happy to inform you that your application for our Strong Communities Grant to benefit Two Hearts Animal Rescue has been awarded. Mercier Communications believes in strong communities and improving the quality of life in areas to which our reach extends. We agree strongly with the following statement from your proposal: Pets and other animals offer love and support in ways that nothing else can. What could be more illustrative of a kind, cohesive community than one that refuses to accept the killing of healthy animals?

  As stated in the project announcement, the amount of the award is $50,000/year for a five year period, with an additional credit of $1500 monthly over the same five-year period to be used in radio and television air time, and print advertising for your non-profit entity.

  Kalliope nearly choked on the words, even though she was only reading them in her head. Fifty grand a year for five years! Plus enough advertising for her to raise that much again. And her donors didn’t even have to worry about their donations being spent just to raise more donations, because Mercier Communications was footing the bill for advertising!

  “Oh Slade.” Tears of joy made it hard to speak so she threw her arms around him and sobbed with relief until she was able to form words. “How could you give me such perfect gifts, again and again?”

  “First, I’m a really good grant writer. I might have left that off my husband résumé. Second, you may not have known this either since we came on this cruise before moving in together, but I’m actually pretty dang poor, so really I pulled it off mostly through desperation. It was either that or sell a kidney.”

  Kalliope read quickly through the final paragraph but it merely dealt with procedural issues. It was signed by Sonja Montgomery, a name she’d never heard before.

  “Wait, my father didn’t have anything to do with this?”

  “Other than building a company worth billions,” said Slade.

  “So he doesn’t know? You didn’t go through him to pull any strings?”

  “None.”

  “Does he even know?”

  Slade shrugged his shoulders. “Other than when I asked your hand, I’ve never talked to him without you there.”

  Kalliope threw her head back and laughed. Oh, it was just so sweet. She laid another kiss on Slade then dragged him inside saying, “Careful, Mr. Powers or you’re going to spoil me.”

  The lounge was half full, maybe fifty couples sitting around. A podgy middle-aged man was at the mic doing comedy and dying, judging by the audience’s reaction. He got a few courtesy laughs and scattered applause, but before Kalliope could get the feel for his act, he took a bow and headed to his seat smiling proudly.

  “Now that’s a bucket list smile,” said Slade.

  A pretty, squat woman greeted him with hugs and kisses at their table, smiling just as big as the man was.

  A young emcee with a hideous suit coat came to the mic. “Give it up for Bradley from Bisbee, Arizona!” It was obvious that the applause and cheers were more for his courage than his comedy chops. “Who’s next, folks? Bradley got ‘em warmed up for you.”

  “You’re lucky I’m so crazy about you,” said Slade as he stood up. He didn’t show any signs of nerves as he made his way to the mic. Sure, he ran into burning buildings and crawled underneath overturned semi trucks, but this was really impressive.

  “Alright, alright. Our next victim.” The emcee slapped Slade on the back. “What’s your name and where you from?”

  “I’m Slade. Park City, Utah.”

  “Slade, ladies and gentlemen.” The emcee looked him up and down, “but especially the ladies. Slade’s tired of the slopes and ready for the sea. What do you got for us tonight, Slade?”

  “I guess you could call it poetry.”

  “Wow, after that proviso, I’m sure we’re all very excited. Take it away!”

  Slade tapped the microphone, then said, “I used to write this stuff because I was haunted. Now I write it because I’m inspired. Everyone look right back there at my gorgeous bride with the dazzling smile. That’s Kalliope, my muse.”

  Her face burned red as the spotlight as well as all the eyes in the room turned toward her. She hoped her smile didn’t disappoint after all he’d said about it.

  The audience clapped as Slade leaned in to the mic and said in a steamy voice, “We’re on our honeymoon.”

  That got the audience’s attention and they added whoops and whistles to their cheering.

  Okay, that was too much attention. Kalliope blew Slade a kiss to cover her smile and deflect the attention back to her impish husband.

  Slade riffled through his sketchbook, looking for something to read. For a few long seconds he kept everyone waiting, then shut his book and tucked it into his inside coat pocket.

  With a smile of his own that said she hadn’t actually gotten one over on him, Slade announced, “The Microkalliope.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve heard Helen’s beauty launched a thousand ships.

  “So science says a millihelen is enough beauty to launch one warship.

  “A beard-hour is 18 micrometers. So a beard-second is the distance facial hair grows in the time it takes to say, ‘One Mississippi.’

  “A warhol is a measure of the length of time a person is famous broken down into fifteen-minute segments. So a centiwarhol is Snooki’s range, while Ylvis was gone faster than the fox could say nanowarhol.

  “And of course you know a sydharb is the amount of water in the Sydney harbor. So a picosydharb is the size of a tear you’ll shed watching Les Miserables at the Sydney Opera House.

  “Add to your list a kalliope: the smile-power required to stop the sun in the sky.

  “Or more useful, the millikalliope—enough juice to render me completely devoid of self-will.

  “Even a millikalliope is currency too large. Hence,
the microkalliope. One-millionth the power of a full kalliope.

  “I never wanted to fall in love, but I saw her face, and a single microkalliope later, it was too late.”

  As Slade took a bow, Kalliope found herself on her feet clapping and whooping as happy tears filled her eyes. The audience and the emcee did things and said things, but all Kalliope saw was her man walking back to her.

  Oh, yes, she couldn’t wait for a lifetime of showing this man the power of her smile.

  About the Author

  Daniel Banner, a 15-year fireman and paramedic, collects experiences by day and makes up stories by nights, and sometimes vice versa. For Daniel, writing is an escape from the traumatic days, and a celebration of the triumphant days.

  He also writes award winning Contemporary Fiction (Gifts and Consequences) and award winning Fantasy (Jabberwocky, Hatter) under the name of Daniel Coleman.

  authordanielbanner

  www.dcolemanbooks.com/banner

  dcolemanbooks@gmail.com

  Author’s Note

  The Park City Fire Department is a fictional department that blends elements and culture of various American fire departments. The authors of the Park City Firefighter Romance Series based the characters and the department on interviews with firefighters from various agencies in multiple states, as well as the 15 years firefighter/paramedic experience of one of the authors of this series It is not intended to represent or resemble Park City Fire District.

  Playlist for Two Hearts Rescue

  I always listen to music while I write. Some writers prefer silence, some prefer instrumental, but I consistently use evocative tunes and for me that means music with lyrics and tons of feeling.

  Here are some of the tunes that graced my speakers as I wrote Two Heart Rescue.

  Someone Like You - Adele