“Still have it?” Nadia said after sipping her strawberry margarita. “My talent is finely honed after all these years, darlin’. Most single women appreciate my skills.”
“They’re firefighters,” Faith said of the large, boisterous diners at the next table. And of course, not just any firefighters. She was shocked to see Joe among the group that included Cale, Turner, Penn and Clay, plus Clay’s family.
“Excellent,” Nadia said, her eyes sparkling. “You can introduce me.”
“Like you’ve ever needed me to introduce you to anyone.”
With her long blond hair, petite body and eternal cuteness, Nadia seemed to have people flocking around her wherever she went. Men, yes, but even women instinctively liked her.
“Introduce you to whom?” Mercedes, Nadia’s opposite in almost every way, climbed up on the third stool and set down a basket of chips and a Sandblaster, the Shell Shack’s signature toxic drink.
“Take your pick,” Nadia said, gesturing to the group. “San Amaro’s bravest, ripe for the choosing.”
“Some are taken,” Faith said in a futile attempt to dampen Nadia’s enthusiasm. And no, she was
not
referring to Joe.
“The one with the kid, I’m assuming. Too bad.”
“That’s Clay Marlow.”
“Tell me the rest. The ones that are available.”
“Some things never change,” Faith said to Mercedes, who laughed and shook her head.
“Once a serial dater, always a serial dater.” Mercedes casually tossed her dark, curly hair over her shoulder. “It’s part of why we love her.”
“True,” Faith said.
“Here’s to girlfriends who understand each other,” Nadia said, raising her glass. Faith held her piña colada up and nodded, appreciating the sentiment.
One of the best parts of being back on San Amaro was these two. Though they didn’t get to meet often enough because of their jobs and crazy schedules, it was as if they’d been together just yesterday whenever they did make plans.
“Faith, are you and your pretty friends going to ignore us all night?” Penn of the deep blue eyes, which had no doubt caught Nadia’s, had angled his chair to face them.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Faith said, smiling. She introduced Nadia and Mercedes to everyone she knew at the firefighters’ table. When she got to Joe, he wouldn’t make direct eye contact. He checked out Nadia and Mercedes, nodded at them, greeted them just as Cale did, but he didn’t look at Faith once.
“And I’m betting those two belong to Clay,” she continued, doing her best to ignore Joe, in turn.
“This is my wife, Andie,” Clay said, referring to the tall, pretty brunette with a row of earrings lining her ear. “And short stuff here is Payton.”
Faith stepped down from her stool and extended her hand first to Andie and then to the little girl sitting on Clay’s leg. His daughter had gorgeous shiny brown hair and eyes that matched her daddy’s. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you both.”
“Faith is a firefighter, too,” Clay told his daughter, which made her stare up at Faith in wonder.
“I have to hang around with noisy boys a lot,” Faith told her, sensing that Joe was now watching her. “Kind of like you’re doing tonight.”
“Boys are smelly,” Payton said, making everyone laugh.
“Don’t let her fool you,” Andie said. “She’s got all these smelly boys wrapped around her little finger.”
“As they should be.” Faith held up her hand for Payton to high-five her.
“Are there more girl firefighters?” Payton asked, not even blinking at the attention from all these men.
“Not here on San Amaro,” Faith told her.
“There should be,” Payton said, still watching Faith carefully.
“I think we’ve got all we can handle with one,” Penn said.
Maybe Faith’s guilty conscience was at work, but she could swear he glanced pointedly toward Joe.
“I bet he’s scared of girls,” Faith said to Payton. “What do you think?”
The little girl giggled and studied Penn, then nodded.
“Looks like my food is here,” Faith said, glad for the excuse to go back to her table with her friends. “Talk to you guys later. Nice meeting you, Andie and Payton.”
“They’re all hot,” Nadia said once she sat down again. “Not sure I can narrow it down.”
“You’re not dating any of them,” Faith said, digging into her cheese fries.
“Which one would you pick?” Nadia continued, as if Faith hadn’t shut her down.
Mercedes surreptitiously looked over the choices as she put some ceviche in her mouth. “Have to agree, difficult choice,” she said quietly. “What about you, Faith? You know them beyond their pretty faces. What do you think?”
“I think I am not going out with anyone from work.”
“Not interested?” Nadia looked skeptical. “You sleep with these guys every week. I think a little fire station romance could be hot.”
Faith finished chewing a bite of burger before responding. “That’s because you don’t work there.”
“I don’t think everyone agrees with you,” Mercedes said. “The dark-haired one at the end—was it Joe?—keeps looking at you.”
Without moving her head, Faith checked him out and, sure enough, Joe was sitting there with his arms on the table in front of him, watching her intently from behind his dark sunglasses. She glanced around quickly to see if anyone else had noticed, but her coworkers were all caught up in trying to be the funniest guy on the planet. Still, it made her nervous. Her friends had noticed. And they were watching her now, so she couldn’t frown at him or give him any signal to make him realize he was being obvious.
“The captain,” Nadia said, drawing out her words and smiling. “Faith’s going for the big guns.”
“After we eat, I’ll take you over and you can get to know him yourself if you’re so caught up on his position—”
“I can think of a lot of positions that would be fun with him.”
Faith couldn’t help laughing at her persistent, single-minded friend. It was mostly an act, she knew. Nadia was a flirt but nothing more. Which was the only reason Faith didn’t feel the need to clobber her over the head with a hard object for checking out Joe so thoroughly.
No doubt he
could
do it, but whether he would was another story altogether.
“I got it. Almost done.” She tightened the bolt that held the blade on.
“Why don’t you let me mow then,” he said.
“It’s okay, Dad, I need the exercise.” She’d still train for at least an hour, but he didn’t need to know that.
She should let him do it, but she’d worked herself into enough of a lather over the six-inch-tall grass that she was determined to hack it off herself. She’d intended to finish the job before her dad even climbed out of bed. Surprisingly, it was only five to ten. Last weekend he hadn’t been moving until almost noon.
He strutted up to her once she righted the mower and gripped the handle. “That’s an argument you can’t win. Who needs the exercise more?”
She grinned, unable to stay mad at him. “You have a cushy desk job. I need to be in top shape.”
He looked down at her gruffly and she laughed.
“Go eat breakfast, Dad. I like to mow.”
“I like to mow, too.”
“Not to be rude, but if you like to mow so much, maybe you could do it before it hits my waist next time.” She pointed toward the overgrown lawn.
He nodded soberly. “I’ll do that. I hadn’t noticed.”
She frowned, unable to keep up the facade that everything was fine. “Dad, I talked to Mom the other day.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She looked tired, but seems okay.”
He gazed sadly off into the distance and Faith couldn’t bring herself to tell him the rest of the story as she’d intended. Couldn’t mention that her mom seemed to be moving on. Before seeing the lost look on his face, she’d thought he should know about the new boyfriend. In case he ran into her mom and the smarm in public or something.
“I didn’t tell her about the other night,” Faith said hesitantly, hating to bring it up at all. They had yet to discuss, or even mention, his drunk fest.
He froze. Seemed to stop breathing. “You didn’t?”
“I didn’t think you’d want her to know.”
He looked at the ground and swallowed. Avoided Faith’s gaze. “I was wondering,” he began in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, “how I did get home. I don’t remember. Tell me I didn’t drive.”
“You didn’t drive. You couldn’t have. You don’t recall calling me?”
He thought for a few seconds, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, Faith. That won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” she said, more forcefully than she’d meant to. “Dad, Joe Mendoza had to help me get you to your room.”
Tony swore and walked to the wooden bench near the front sidewalk. Sitting down heavily, he leaned his elbows on his knees and hung his head. Faith silently sat next to him.
“How did Joe get involved?” he asked.
She told him what she knew of his adventures before she’d arrived at the Shell Shack.
“I’d phoned your mother from work that afternoon,” he said after another long pause. “She asked me not to call her again. Not that that’s any excuse for drinking myself into oblivion.”
“No,” Faith said, wondering if her mom had any idea how much power she held over this seemingly powerful man. Did she even care? “Next time you feel like that, Dad, could you call me? Before you start drinking.”
“I hope to God there isn’t a next time. Did anyone else see me? Recognize me?”
“Not that I know of. There wasn’t anyone else from the department there that night besides Joe and Derek. Just a big crowd of tourists.”
They sat without speaking for several minutes, her dad seemingly lost in his thoughts and Faith trying to appreciate the beautiful spring morning around her. Trying to figure out how to be what her dad needed right now. Whatever that was.
“I know I have to move on,” he said finally. “Get over it, like she has.”
Did he know about the other guy?
“Until I do that, give her some space like she asked, I’m only going to piss her off.”
“I don’t think you just ‘get over’ thirty-eight years of marriage,” Faith said.
He chuckled. “When you put it like that…”
A wren landed several feet away from them and hopped across the sidewalk. It poked its tiny beak in the moist dirt of the weed-filled flower bed, hunting for lunch.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, princess. No daughter should ever have to deal with such a situation.”
She refrained from agreeing with him aloud. “We all make mistakes. I’m sorry I had to have Joe help me. There was no other way. He said he’d keep the whole thing to himself.”
Her father sighed and patted her knee. “You’re a good girl, Faith. Don’t know how I’d get through this without you here.”
That made her think again of what Joe had said—that there wasn’t much anyone could do for him except just be there. Maybe the captain had a clue what he was talking about, after all.
“I’m going to mow before it gets hotter,” she said, jumping up and cutting the awkward father-daughter talk short.
He didn’t say anything else as she returned to the driveway, just sat there looking so damn sad. Broken.
Not mentioning her mom’s “wonder-smarm” was the right decision, Faith assured herself. She refused to be the one to crush her dad. She might not be able to get her parents back together, but she could protect him from more heartbreak.
As she and Nate hooked up the attack hose and lugged it toward the back of the sprawling one-story furniture store, her heart hammered. Not in a good way.
They stopped outside of the building to make final adjustments.
She couldn’t lose it. Not again. Especially with Nate, her favorite naysayer, right behind her. She could work with him even though she didn’t like him, but she would not give him more reason to doubt her abilities.
She automatically checked that her flashlight was strapped on to her air pack, and pulled her gloves on more securely as she fought nausea.
No hesitation. You’re not going to get hurt. Not going to screw up. Get in there already, before someone wonders what the hell you’re waiting for.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, then forced herself to go inside.
The fire was in the front half of the building. Working toward it was like wandering through a human-size maze, thanks to what she assumed were furniture displays throughout. Nausea boiled in her gut and she felt shaky, but she kept going. Faith didn’t realize she’d made the boneheaded, unforgivable mistake of going inside without her partner until she turned to check on him and found herself alone. He must’ve let go of the hose while adjusting his mask or something. Where the hell was he?
The smoke was thickening, but she could still see the door she’d come in. She could go back and get him but the flames were advancing quickly. She needed to knock them down. Nate would follow the hose and catch up to her any second now.
Visibility continued to tank and the temperature kept climbing. She’d just about reached the place she needed to get to before opening the hose when she tripped. A sharp corner of something jabbed into her padded coat, padded coat dulled the pain. She stumbled, trying to stay on her feet, then ran into another solid object, felt a blow to her head and found herself sprawled on her side. Disoriented. What had she hit her head on? She felt for her helmet and found it had been dislodged. She lay there for several seconds, trying to get her bearings, before she realized the flames were too close. She groped around for her helmet, the smoke black and blinding now. Having had a building collapse on her made her only too aware of how badly she needed to protect her head.
And her radio. Where was her radio? She’d had it when she’d started, she was sure.
Frantic, she slipped one glove off, hoping to find something that would help her—helmet, radio, hose. The heat was too much, though, and she was afraid she’d drop the glove as well. Swearing up a storm, she yanked her glove back on as she continued to search. Finally she located her helmet and put it back on her head.
Faith noticed she was breathing too fast, using up too much of her oxygen, about the same time she realized she couldn’t find the hose. Her way out.
Her chest got that squeezed-in-a-vise feeling and she gasped for breath, even though there was nothing wrong with her supply. Sweat drenched her under her gear and it wasn’t just because of the heat in the building. She crawled away from the fire a few feet, feeling for the hose on her way, unable to see a thing—whether from smoke or tears, she couldn’t say.
Seconds or minutes ticked by—her sense of time was as hazy as the toxic air around her—and she stubbornly kept moving on her hands and knees, searching for the hose line. If she could just find that, she could get back to what she needed to be doing and put out the freaking fire.
There came a time—she wouldn’t be able to pinpoint it later, exactly—when putting out the fire became a secondary concern and getting the hell out of Dodge took over.
Faith had known how quickly a person could become disoriented in a fire, but that didn’t prepare her for the panic and terror she experienced now. All sense of direction was gone, and she could no longer see the light from the door where she’d entered. Everything looked the same—a cloud of thick, impenetrable smoke unevenly lit by flames that seemed to be everywhere. She might be five feet from where she’d originally gone down or she might be on the other side of the building. She’d tried to stay close, to avoid going more than a couple of feet in any direction as she searched. The fire was no longer on just one side of her, so she couldn’t use that reference to navigate.
Why had she rushed in without Nate? If she hadn’t let her panic push her, hadn’t let herself wind up alone, every thing would be fine. He would’ve seen her go down, would’ve made his way to her and helped her get back to the nozzle, and they would have the fire under control by now.
The fire that seemed to be everywhere. On all sides. Creeping closer.
She could die today.
The thought gripped her like a hand to her throat. She froze, unable to decide what her next move should be. Unable to even process her options, limited though they must be. The only thing that ran through her head was that those who’d doubted her—her mother, some of her colleagues—were right. She wasn’t good enough for the job.
Heat at her back ripped her attention away from that pathetic line of thought, and she refused to give in to the panic that was trying to suffocate her. She crawled away from the immediate danger, feeling around on the floor for a clear path. Away from the intense heat.
When the alarm on her breathing apparatus started beeping, signaling she was about five minutes from running out of air, she frantically wondered what would get her first, lack of oxygen or a heart attack. Her chest felt as if it would explode, and the heat now seemed unbearable. Add burning to death to the list of possibilities.
Love of God, how did she get in this situation?
More importantly, how could she get out of it?
She continued feeling for a clear path, blind, alone and scared out of her mind. She kept fighting for another breath.
When she felt something yank at her leg, she nearly wept. It was a person grabbing at her—had to be. Someone had found her. Maybe she wouldn’t die, after all.