Читать книгу Hero Dad - Marta Perry - Страница 10

Her mind fogged from a mostly sleepless night, Julie drove along the tree-lined street that led to the fire station. Even several cups of coffee had not been enough to clear her head. She wasn’t ready to join Seth for this orientation meeting he’d arranged at the firehouse this morning, but she didn’t have a choice.

She’d spent most of the night trying to sort out her feelings, only to find that they defied classification. She’d thought she could do this thing calmly, coolly, without emotional involvement. Instead she’d found that just seeing Davy had brought on a torrent of memories that hadn’t surfaced in years.

One still clung, as insubstantial as a cobweb but just as hard to get rid of. Lisa couldn’t have been much older than Davy, so Julie had probably been about five. Lisa had woken with one of the nightmares she’d had so frequently. Their nanny-of-the-moment hadn’t been patient with children who cried after they’d been put to bed, so Julie had taken Lisa into bed with her.

They’d snuggled together, and she’d patted Lisa, telling her over and over that everything was all right. Finally she’d felt the small body relax into sleep against her.

It’s all right, Lisa. I’ll take care of you.

But she hadn’t. If she had, maybe Lisa wouldn’t have found it necessary to break all ties with her in order to start her new life.

I let her down. I didn’t mean to, but I did. Did God accept that as an excuse? Probably not.

I won’t let Davy down. I promise. I’ll do what’s best for Lisa’s son.

That meant gaining Seth’s acceptance in order to see what Davy’s life was like, so that’s what she would do.

Then what? For an instant something in her rebelled in answer to that. She’d have to disappear. She couldn’t continue to be a part of Davy’s life, because if she did, her father might find out that the boy existed.

Ronald Alexander’s potential response to that knowledge was incalculable, but the only thing he’d ever loved was wielding power. If he knew about Lisa’s child, he wouldn’t be able to resist trying to control the little boy’s life.

So he could never know. She drew up at the curb, switching off the ignition. She didn’t have any choice but to go forward. Maybe, belatedly, she could keep the promise she’d made to Lisa.

She walked into the huge, echoing garage. Seth knew she was coming, so he’d be around someplace. A figure moved on the back of one of the fire trucks, drawing her attention. Seth jumped lightly to the concrete floor and came toward her.

“Julie. Hi.”

He wiped his hands on a rag as he approached her, his body compact and sturdy in the uniform’s dark blue pants and shirt with the red-and-white Suffolk Fire Department patch. Her stomach gave a little flutter of nerves.

“Hi. I hope this is a convenient time for me to pester you on the job.”

“It’s fine unless the alarm goes, but nobody can predict that.” If he thought her presence was a nuisance, he must be determined not to let it show.

“Are you busy?” She nodded toward the cloth.

He grinned, tossing it aside. “Not really. It’s just a compulsion firefighters have, to make sure their rigs look the best. If you see a sloppy or dirty apparatus, you don’t think much of the firefighters who man her.”

She filed that tidbit of information away for the article, assuming it got written. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“A pretty visitor is never in the way.” A wheeled platform rolled out from under the nearest truck, and the firefighter she’d seen the day before smiled up at her. “I’m Dave Hanratty.”

“Married. With kids,” Seth added.

“Hey, I’m married, not blind.” Dave got up. “I can give Julie the tour if you’re too busy.”

She’d prefer that both of them stopped paying so much attention to her. “Really, I don’t want to take either of you away from your work. If you’ll just give me permission to start snapping, I’ll disappear into the woodwork.”

“You can take any pictures you want,” Seth said. “But I’ll show you around so you know what’s where. Dave can go back to inspecting the undercarriage.”

“Single guys get all the breaks,” Dave complained. He pulled the platform over with his foot. “When you’re ready for my close-up, just let me know.”

“Who would want a close-up of that mug?” Seth asked innocently.

She was beginning to catch on to the ribbing that flowed ceaselessly between the men. “I promise,” Julie said. “If I want a close-up, you’ll be the first to know.”

Laughing, Dave rolled himself smoothly back under the truck.

Seth gestured. “The engine room, but I guess you figured that out for yourself. We spend a lot of time here, cleaning, training, doing maintenance. Come on upstairs and see the rest of it.”

She pulled out one of the cameras she’d brought with her. Chances were good that anything she shot today would look too stiff, but she had to start or they’d never reach the point of comfort.

Seth gave a sidelong look at the camera as he led the way to the stairwell. She didn’t have much trouble interpreting that look.

“The camera bothers you, doesn’t it?”

He shrugged. “I guess. Who knows—you might catch me doing something I shouldn’t, and then the chief would be on my back. Or something dangerous, and then my mother would be after me. Trust me, that’s worse.”

“What would you do that you shouldn’t?

“Horseplay.” He grinned. “Firefighters are great ones for practical jokes. Officially, the chief disapproves.”

He stood back to let her go up the narrow flight of wooden stairs first. She could feel him behind her as she climbed. “I’d think your mother would be used to having firefighters in the family by this time.”

“I guess mothers never stop worrying.”

She paused at the top of the steps so she could see his expression. “What about you? It must worry you, being in a dangerous job when you’re a single parent.”

She might as well not have bothered, because his expression didn’t give one thing away.

“I don’t take chances,” he said shortly. “This is the kitchen.” He gestured. “We spend a lot of time here, and yes, we cook. People always ask that.”

It was only as Lisa’s sister that she really had the right to have asked that question about his job. He was a single father. He did have a potentially dangerous job. This would be so much easier if she could just tell him the truth.

Lisa hadn’t wanted him to know about her family, either. That was the bottom line. She searched for a safe remark.

“Are you a good cook?”

His expression eased at the innocuous question. “My mother probably wouldn’t think so, but I’m about as good as anyone else here. All of us here have to cook for the group occasionally. I make a mean chili, anyway.”

She took a few shots of the kitchen that she’d undoubtedly delete from the digital camera, then continued snapping as he showed her a living area furnished with what looked like cast-offs from someone’s house and a small exercise room furnished with weights and a punching bag.

He gestured toward a closed door. “Bunks and bathrooms are that way, but a couple of guys are sleeping right now.”

“And if the alarm goes off?”

“If a call comes in, don’t get between that door and the pole.”

The shiny brass pole led through a hole in the floor to the engine room below. “So the pole really exists, does it?” She began snapping again. “I thought that might be a myth.”

“There’s a good reason for it. You have half a dozen firefighters trying to get down a flight of stairs at the same time, you got a mess. The pole’s faster and safer.”

She focused her lens on the opening. “You wouldn’t care to give me a demonstration, would you?”

“I will if you try it, too.”

She studied him through her viewfinder. He looked serious. “I’m not the athletic type.”

“If you’re going to go out on calls with us, you’ll have to stop hiding behind the camera and take a risk or two. And that’s the whole idea of this, isn’t it?”

The idea is to observe your relationship with my nephew.

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I want to become a firefighter.”

“Come on.” He grasped the pole with one hand and drew her forward, his eyes teasing. “Even the ten-year-olds in our Future Firefighters club slide the pole. I’ll show you how. Just hang on here.” He patted the shiny brass.

“I can’t.” She pulled back, feeling his arm strong around her. “You’d have to have three or four people down there to break my fall before I’d try.”

He grinned. “The idea is to slide, not to fall.”

“Even so—”

She looked up at his face, and her nerves gave that funny little jump again. He was too close—way too close. She could see the gold flecks in his brown eyes and the tiny lines that bracketed his firm mouth.

An inappropriate wave of warmth flooded her. Seth’s eyes seemed to darken, as if he felt it, too.

Oh, no. She could not be attracted to Seth Flanagan. She couldn’t be.

For just an instant Seth felt the way he had when a beam came down on him in a smoky fire. His helmet had protected him from serious injury, but he’d seen stars for a week afterward.

Looking into Julie’s eyes seemed to create a similar effect. He let go of her carefully, putting some distance between them. He wasn’t looking to see stars anymore, either physically or emotionally.

“Tell you what. I’ll slide down to show you how it’s done, but you can take the stairs. This time.”

“Every time.” Julie lifted the camera in front of her face. She did that a lot, maybe more than she had to. He couldn’t help but wonder why she felt the need to hide.

“Okay.” He went into his usual pole-sliding demonstration. “The alarm goes, you charge out, adrenaline pumping, and grab the pole with your arm, wrap your legs around and slide.”

Julie’s face disappeared as he slid down a little faster than usual. He landed hard enough to jolt him. Well, it served him right for showing off just because a pretty woman was watching.

He looked up at the opening, but she’d disappeared. He heard her footsteps on the stairs, and in a moment she emerged from the stairwell.

“Very impressive.”

“Thank you. We try to keep up the image.”

She nodded toward the closest rig. “Why don’t you go back to the cleaning you were doing when I came in, and I’ll just ask a few questions while I take a few more photos.”

“Fair enough.” At least cleaning would give him something to do with his hands. She seemed to think he was eventually going to forget that she and her camera were there, but he doubted that would ever happen.

He climbed up on the rig and looked down at her. “Seems like you’re going to have to come up here, too, if we’re going to talk.” He held out his hand.

He could sense her hesitation. Then she nodded, grabbed his hand and let him pull her up onto the rig. She glanced around a little nervously.

“I’m not going to set off any sirens by touching the wrong thing, am I?”

“There’s nothing you can hurt back here. The controls are in the cab.” He grabbed a rag and started polishing the chrome strip. “Fire away.”

He didn’t forget she was there. But he did, oddly enough, begin to forget after a while that she was taking photographs. He polished the chrome, the familiar routine soothing. Julie had an easy, detached way of asking questions while she snapped that had him thinking about what he was saying instead of what she was doing.

“Does it bother Davy that you work such long shifts?”

His polishing slowed, and he turned to frown at her. Once again, he couldn’t see her face because of the camera.

“Do you know that’s the fourth question you’ve asked about my son? I thought this article was supposed to be about firefighting.”

Julie held the camera in place a moment longer, but then she seemed to realize they weren’t going any further until she answered. She lowered it, but her cool gaze didn’t give anything away.

“The story is meant to be about a family of firefighters. Naturally I’m especially interested in the effects of that on the children.”

“Then you should talk with my sister Mary Kate. She has two kids, and her husband’s a firefighter.”

“I plan to. But as a single father—well, you seem to have the more challenging role.”

“I’m not so sure I want my private life included in your article.”

Her expression grew a little cooler. “I need the contrast of work and family life. That’s what the chief agreed to. That’s what your family agreed to.”

She had him there. They had all agreed, but he hadn’t realized she intended to probe into his life in particular.

“I guess we did agree.” He put the cloth down and leaned a little closer to her. He had the sense that she’d have backed up if there’d been any place to go. “Okay. I’ll go along with that, but you have to do something for me in return.”

She eyed him warily. “What?”

“I already mentioned it, but maybe you didn’t realize I was serious. I want you to experience basic safety training. No matter what the chief says, I don’t feel comfortable taking you to a fire scene unprepared.”

She lifted her eyebrows, her green eyes as bright as a forest pond reflecting sunlight. “You wouldn’t be trying to discourage me, by any chance, would you?”

“Certainly not.” Well, not consciously, anyway. “I think it’s important.”

She shrugged. “Fine. I guess if I can go up in a fighter plane for my piece on women pilots, I can do this.”

It sounded as if Julie was tougher than her delicate looks would indicate. “Okay. I’ll put you through the basics until I’m satisfied you know how to handle yourself.”

She leaned back against the side of the rig, studying him. “And in return, I get a chance to photograph you and Davy, right?”

He nodded. “You can start this afternoon, if you want. I’m scheduled to do a fire-safety presentation at Davy’s nursery school. You can come along.”

She looked a little startled. “Is he old enough for nursery school?”

“He turns three next week, so we started him for the fall session. He goes two afternoons a week, and he really loves it.” He wasn’t sure why he sounded defensive about it. He was Davy’s parent, and it was up to him to decide if Davy was old enough for nursery school.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that as a criticism. I’m not around young children enough to know.”

In that case, it was going to be interesting to watch the cool, detached photographer coping with a bunch of rug rats.

“Then maybe you’d better put on a safety helmet. And some earplugs. Because you’ll be around plenty of them this afternoon.”

The nursery school didn’t really seem as noisy or intimidating as Seth had indicated when they approached it that afternoon.

“This isn’t so bad.” Julie scuffed through the fallen leaves as they walked across the lawn toward the building. Like so much of Suffolk, it was built of mellow old brick. “I don’t hear a single scream.”

“Just wait. You haven’t encountered Davy’s class of preschoolers yet.” He hefted the large duffel bag that apparently contained the gear he needed for his presentation. “I went with them on a field trip to the pretzel factory earlier this month.” He shuddered, grinning. “Not an event I care to repeat.”

“It looks like a nice place.” She was determined to be fair, in spite of her feeling that Davy was too young for nursery school. She nodded toward the bright play equipment scattered across the fenced yard under huge old oak trees.

“It’s the best. Both of Mary Kate’s kids went here.” He hit a button next to the door, waved at the woman inside and then pulled the door open when the buzzer sounded. “Showtime,” he said. “We’re on.”

“What do you mean, ‘we’?” She followed him into a hall decorated with murals and children’s art work. “I’m just an observer.”

“You find it safer that way, don’t you?”

The remark startled her, but before she could find a response, he was opening a classroom door. She followed him in, wrestling with his comment, not sure whether to be insulted or not.

It wasn’t a matter of playing it safe, she assured herself. Her profession required that she be a detached observer—that was all.

The children were seated at low round tables, apparently having a snack, but Davy jumped up at his father’s entrance and raced to him for a hug. She watched his red-gold head nestled next to Seth’s with an odd lump in her throat. Davy was her blood kin, too, but he’d probably never know that.

The teacher, a slender young black woman in jeans and a smock, clapped her hands. “All right, boys and girls. Davy’s father is here to talk to us. Take your places on the rug, please.”

Somewhat to Julie’s surprise, the children did as the teacher directed, gathering in a ragged circle on the braided rug and wiggling like so many puppies as they sat.

She slipped to the side of the group, finding a spot where she’d be out of the children’s line of sight. She sat down, pulling out her camera, automatically calculating the amount of light that poured through the large windows on the side wall.

“Some of you know that Davy’s father is a firefighter,” the teacher said. Davy grinned, obviously proud. “He’s going to show us what to do if there’s a fire.”

Seth sat on the rug. If he was nervous about this presentation, it didn’t show. “Hi, guys.” He pointed to the patch on his uniform shirt. “Like Ms. Sarah said, I’m a firefighter. This patch says that I’m a member of the Suffolk Fire Department.”

She focused the camera on his face, slipping into professional mode. Or maybe not so professional. She didn’t usually dwell on a subject’s easy grin, or the way the light made his eyes look almost gold instead of brown.

Stop it. So he’s an attractive guy. That doesn’t matter. All that matters is Davy’s happiness.

She began taking pictures. A couple of the children glanced around at the first few clicks, but they soon forgot her. They were too engrossed in having a real live firefighter in their classroom.

That firefighter did a good job, she had to admit. He seemed to know just what would keep his young audience involved. No doubt because he had a child of his own, he didn’t even miss a beat when one little boy began to wail that he had to go potty.

Not easily flustered, that was Seth. What would it take to ruffle that relaxed exterior? She couldn’t guess. The calm, friendly manner seemed to be inherent in his personality. She could see why Lisa had been drawn to him.

He’d come well prepared, too, using stuffed toys of familiar characters to illustrate fire safety. In his hands, a stuffed teddy bear stayed low and hurried out of a house of blocks.

“Remember, you never go back in, no matter what. Even if you left your favorite toy inside, don’t go back in until a grown-up tells you it’s okay. Right?”

They nodded solemnly.

“Okay, now we’re going to practice what to do if your clothes should ever catch fire.”

She blinked. Surely that was too scary for this young group.

Apparently Seth didn’t think so. He demonstrated the stop-drop-and-roll routine himself, making them laugh. Then he had all the children practice. A lot of giggling punctuated the process.

She focused the camera on Davy, who was rolling vigorously, hands over his face. Would he pay for this in nightmares?

“Now, then.” Seth regained their attention by dumping out the rest of the contents of his bag. “Ms. Julie is going to help me show you what a firefighter wears.”

She frowned at him. “I don’t think so.”

He smiled back blandly. “I need a model. You’re it.”

The children, prompted by the teacher, started clapping. Apparently she didn’t have a choice. She set the camera aside and joined him in front of the children.

“I’ll get you back for this,” she murmured.

“Promises, promises.” He held out a pair of bulky yellow pants. “Ms. Julie is putting on the pants that will protect her at a fire. We call them bunker pants.”

Easier said than done. She struggled into the pants, which fit surprisingly well. That meant he’d planned this, bringing an outfit from one of the female firefighters.

“Next come the boots.”

She stuffed her feet into the boots, wondering how anyone managed to move in this outfit, let alone fight a fire. Seth fielded several comments from children who wanted him to know that they had boots, too.

“Now the bunker jacket.” He held the yellow jacket, helping her to slip it on. He snapped the front of it as if she were a child, and then his fingers moved to the collar, tipping it up under her chin.

He looked at the children. “What else does Ms. Julie need to go to the fire?”

“The helmet,” they chorused.

“Right you are.” He settled the helmet on her head gently. His fingers brushed her cheeks as he fastened the chin strap.

Breathe, she reminded herself. Breathe.

For an instant she thought he skipped a beat. Then he went on smoothly. “Let’s give Ms. Julie a hand for being such a good sport, okay?”

The children clapped again, making her ridiculously pleased, and then it was over. The teacher was leading them back to their tables, and Seth picked up the duffel bag.

He quirked an eyebrow, looking at her. “Need some help getting that off?”

“I can manage.” She pulled off the helmet and ran her fingers through her hair. “You planned that,” she accused, keeping her voice soft.

“Hey, I don’t usually have a model when I do this. You can’t blame me for taking advantage of it.”

“Can’t I?”

He grinned. “You’re a hard woman, Julie White. Come on, this wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She helped him stuff the gear back into the duffel bag. “I guess not.” She glanced toward the kids, who were joining the teacher in a song. Davy sang with gusto, his little arms waving in time to the music. “But don’t you think that was scary for children this young?”

“Maybe so. But it’s better than the alternative.”

Something grim in his voice brought her gaze back to his face, and what she saw there startled her. The lines of his face had hardened. Only his eyes showed expression, and the emotion they betrayed was pain.

“You mean—” Her throat closed.

“We lost two children in an apartment fire the first year I was in the department.” His words were flat, but not for any lack of emotion. If anything, Seth was feeling too much, not too little.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Their eyes met, and for an instant she felt as if she saw into his heart. She couldn’t pull her gaze away. She was caught in the moment.

He shook his head, maybe shaking off the bad memories. “Well, anyway.” He hefted the bag. “Are you getting what you want?”

For an instant the question confused her. Was she? Then she realized that Seth was talking about the shots.

“Yes, of course.” She bent to pick up the camera bag, letting the action hide her face. Was she getting what she wanted? She wasn’t sure she knew.