Rescued By The Firefighter

She held up her palms. “Stop right there. I would never do anything to harm these kids. And what on earth would I gain by starting a fire?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Insurance money? I’ve seen that before, too. Insurance money is a quick way out for people who get into debt.”

She narrowed her eyes to slits to filter out his accusations. He probably had seen that kind of person a dozen times over in his line of work. Maybe worse. Pyromaniacs. People whose euphoria escalated with the sound of sirens.

And even though that was nowhere near the kind of person she was, Rand was the kind of by-the-book official who would shut down her camp if he found the tiniest infraction.

Had she caused herself great harm by running into that fire to save Eli and Chris?

And what of the boys themselves? The boys might have had something to do with the fire, but she would not let herself think that either of them had done anything intentional. It all had to be an accident. But even if it was, would the fact that the boys were in her care still be enough to bring charges against her?

She could see the case Rand could make. That accusatory finger of the law was itching to point at her.

Beatrice sensed that if she let her growing sense of guilt show on her face or in her tone of voice, he would suspect her of crimes she hadn’t even thought of. That was the problem with being a cop’s kid. You could always see the dark side of a situation before you saw the light.

She cocked her chin and pursed her lips. “Well, Mr. Nelson, I can tell you one thing—you’re never going to get the truth out of a kid acting like this.”

“Me? What are you talking about?”

“None of your questions and interrogations will be easy for a kid. I know you’re doing what’s necessary and all this is required by the law, but these kids—” she turned her head toward the dining room and then, after a thoughtful pause, back to him “—they’re good kids. All of them.”

Ouch. Even she thought her defensive tone was sharp enough to pierce granite.

“Look,” she said sweetly, changing tack. “Some of them have had a rough life. A couple have had a very tough life. Could you be a little...well, softer in your delivery?”

“Softer?”

“Yeah. Not so gruff.”

His biceps flexed, bulged and relaxed as he folded his arms over his chest. “You think I sound harsh?” He leaned forward a few inches, but instead of seeming threatening, his closeness reminded her of the other reactions she had to him. The ones that made her wish they were not in this antagonistic situation. The ones that flashed visions of being held in his arms.

“To a kid. Yes.”

She peeled her eyes off his arms and hauled them up to his face. She met his gaze dead-on.

“I’ll take that into consideration. Thanks for the advice. I’ll be right back.”

He walked toward the huge fire truck.

His heavy black boots left shallow imprints in the dry dirt as he headed across the summer-bleached grass that in spring had been dark green velvet. Their indentations left proof that he was on the job, performing his duty. Beatrice inhaled deeply as the space between the two of them lengthened. She realized that when she was near him, he didn’t just fill the inches and feet between them, but he overtook her thoughts as well.

He wore regulation black jeans and a short-sleeved knit shirt, which had the ILFD logo over the breast pocket. Beatrice had never been the type to linger long over any male’s physique, but Rand was so perfectly sculptured, it was impossible not to conjure visions of ancient Greek Olympians and the mighty feats they accomplished.

But then, Rand had carried her and Eli out of a blazing inferno. What was more Herculean than that?

Beatrice was so immersed in her fantasies about Rand, that she didn’t notice that he’d walked back to her and had started talking to her.

“Sorry, what?”

He sighed, and started over. “I need to talk to all the kids about fire safety before I have the private, er, interviews.”

She had to give him points for carefully choosing his words. Maybe he’d listened to her.

She turned her boot around and let her body follow, using the wall for momentary security. “This way.”

The kids were nearly back to normal, Beatrice realized as she entered the dining hall. Their voices were sprinkled with chuckles and had returned to the loud, happy tones she’d heard before the fire.

She clapped her hands three times, the signal for their attention. Usually, it took them a few moments to stop joking with one another. This time they came to abrupt attention.

“Guys. This is Firefighter Rand Nelson. Some of you met him last night during the fire.” She looked pointedly at Eli and Chris. Eli smiled at Rand. Chris scooted back on his chair. He clutched either side of his seat with his hands. Little Ricky’s eyes were filled with adoration.

Cindy stared blatantly at Rand’s chest. Maisie’s cheeks were pink.

Beatrice continued. “Mr. Nelson wants to talk to you all about fire safety.”

Beatrice took a step back and nearly toppled over. Quick reflexes on Rand’s part saved her from the fall. “Thanks,” she said, feeling both clumsy and embarrassed.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered but didn’t give her a second glance.

He turned his attention to the children. His “official” hat was back on.

“The first thing I want to assure you kids is that the fire has been extinguished. To make doubly certain, later this afternoon, our crew will be out here to cut down any remaining trees that appear to be a hazard. At this moment, our forensic team is in the forest to ascertain the origin of the fire.”

Little Jessica Kettering raised her hand high above her cropped carrot-red hair. “Sir! Sir!”

Rand looked at Beatrice.

“Her name is Jessica.” Beatrice smiled. “Yes, Jessica. What’s your question?”

Jessica shoved her thick glasses back up her nose, and angled her unpatched eye directly at Rand. “Do you think someone started it?”

“We can never be sure until our investigation is complete. But since there were no thunderstorms or lightning strikes anywhere in our area last night, we felt we needed some expert eyes on the situation.”

“Sir!” Little Ricky threw his hand up. “I think it was gangs.”

“Gangs?” Rand questioned. “What’s your name, son?”

“Ricky. I’ve seen all kinds of things on the news about the gangs near Indian Lake. We have to be careful because they try to give drugs to little kids.”

Beatrice realized there were more fears buzzing in her camp kids’ heads than hornets in a nest. Camp was supposed to be an oasis for children. Their summer idyll. “Ricky, you are right. We all have to be very careful. That’s why we have camp rules about lights out and being in your cabin at sundown. We take special care to make sure all you kids are safe. That’s why Miss Cindy, Miss Maisie and Mr. Bruce are always close to you. We don’t ever want you to feel that you are alone.”

“We don’t feel alone, Miss Beatrice,” Susan Kettering said, grasping Jessica’s hand. “This is the best place. You make it the best for us.”

“Thank you, Susan.”

Beatrice felt yet another tiny tear fall from her eye. She blamed the fire for her highly charged emotional state this morning. As she lifted her finger to slide it off her cheek, she noticed Rand watching her. His face was expressionless. Part of his stoic on-the-job mask, she guessed. But his eyes probed her more deeply than she ever remembered a man doing. She felt her knees weaken, but this time she was glad she had the air boot, because it helped her maintain her balance.

“And thank you for listening, kids. Finish your breakfast and take your dishes to the kitchen for Miss Amanda. You all know your next activities.” She nodded for Bruce, Maisie and Cindy to gather their groups.