Too Near The Fire

Gil slowed his stride to match her own. “You’re going to need a steak, too. Your left eye is swollen. It ought to be black by tomorrow morning.”

Leah groaned. “Just what I need.”

He opened the door for her and then slid into the driver’s seat. “When the local reporter comes down tomorrow morning to check on our runs, he’ll see you and think we beat you up.”

The ambulance had already left with the injured driver and a wrecker had arrived and was pulling the remains of the car out of the ditch.

Leah hesitantly returned his smile and shut the door. She cradled her helmet in her hands, allowing her head to rest against the rear of the cab.

Gil snapped off the beacon lights. He loosened his helmet and handed it to her. She took it without another word, staring down at the yellow color. Lieutenants always wore yellow turn-out gear and helmets; assistant chiefs wore red and the chief wore white. Gil put the truck in gear and started back toward town. Suddenly he smiled, his even white teeth stark against the sweat and grime on his face. “Just sit back and relax now. I’ll take good care of you.”

“You really don’t have to make such a fuss over me,” she protested.

“Lady, you’re worth making a fuss over, believe me.”

The words pleased her and Leah did as she was ordered. Watching Gil through half-closed eyes, she found it hard not to stare at him. Normally, men did not arouse her curiosity or, indeed, any sort of emotional reaction. Jack had seen to that, she thought bitterly. She took in Gil’s clean profile, marveling at the strength stamped in his features. Yet he had shown her he was capable of gentleness, too. Every time she remembered his touch, her body automatically responded. It puzzled her. She barely knew the man.

Gil broke the pleasant silence after a few minutes. He turned to glance at her in the darkness. “Hell of a note,” he said wryly. “On your first run you get hit.” He smiled. “Figure it out—we save a kid’s life and you get punched.”

A grin edged her lips; a feeling of pride swelled in her breast. “It was worth every bit of pain and embarrassment,” she assured him. “A life was saved and that’s all that matters to me.”

He reached out, hesitantly touching her hair, running his fingers down the silken tresses. “Your life matters too, you know.” His eyes became cobalt colored as he said, “Next time, Leah, don’t put yourself in such a vulnerable position when you know the driver is either on drugs or alcohol. He might have hit you in the eye and blinded you.” He shook his head, a mournful note in his voice. “God, you have beautiful eyes. I’d hate to see anything happen to them.” He rested his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You just be more careful” was all he said.

Her eyes widened with disbelief. Leah couldn’t tear her gaze from his. He cared. He truly cared what happened to her. To her surprise, tears filled her eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping the darkness would hide them. “I’ll try,” she mumbled.

“Why don’t you rest,” he suggested.

“No, thanks,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to play tough when we’re by ourselves,” he said, glancing over at her.

Leah gave him a startled look. “What?”

“Give in and rest. I’m not going to call you weak just because others might. You put in a good performance on short notice. You deserve the downtime.”

The huskiness in his voice sent another tingle of pleasure through her tired, aching body. “You should have let me help clean up,” she muttered.

“Why? You did your share of assigned duties. You don’t have to be a superwoman.”

She grinned tiredly. “No, but it sure helps if you’re a woman in the fire service.”

“Don’t push yourself so hard,” he coaxed huskily. “You did a good job. Matter of fact, the state trooper at the site was Sergeant Mike Ryan, and he’s back there shaking his head in disbelief.”

“Oh?”

“Didn’t realize you were a woman until you started soothing that kid by talking to him. He said you did one hell of a job. And believe me, Ryan’s a hard case to work with at an accident scene.”

Her heart swelled with joy but she tried to control her reactions. “It takes more than one extrication to make you good,” she returned soberly. “When I have a few more under my belt, I’ll feel a lot more confident than I did out there tonight.”

“If you weren’t confident, it didn’t show.” He scratched his head. “I underestimated you.”

“In what way?”

“You’re a lot harder to read than I first thought. Make me a promise, Leah?”

She stared at him. “What kind?” she asked tentatively.

“You’re defensive, but I guess I don’t blame you. I’m not asking, but ordering you, to report to me if there’s ever a time in the future when you get injured. Don’t try and fake it, okay? It’s necessary to work as a team, and it’s important to communicate your full condition. Don’t downplay it because of your bullheadedness.”

“I’m not stubborn,” she flared. “I learned the hard way down at the academy that if you showed any emotion you were considered weak. And if a fireman thinks you’re weak, he won’t work with you or—worse—he’ll try to take over.” She sat back, staring moodily into the darkness. “You don’t learn much if someone is always taking over, Lieutenant.”

“Call me Gil. And somehow, I doubt that you let too many male rookies take over for you down there,” he drawled. “Now, you want to make me that promise?”

She remained quiet for a long time, mulling it over in her aching head. If she could trust what she saw, Gil Gerard was one hundred and ten percent behind her. He actually seemed excited about her performance and that gave her a needed boost of confidence. She found herself liking him more than she should. But then, he was such a damn likable man. Could he be trusted? She recalled a rookie student at the academy who had gotten her trust and then ended up embarrassing her badly in front of the whole class. She couldn’t afford to have that happen here. No, she would be living in this town and working here. She couldn’t make those kinds of mistakes any longer.