Charlotte Maclay - Between Honor And Duty

“I wanna swing, too,” Maddie complained.

“You’re too little,” Kevin countered.

“Uh-uh!” The five-year-old grabbed onto one of the bars, only to discover she had to run to keep up with her brother.

“Whoa, you two!” Janice snared Maddie’s arm before the child took a tumble. “Let’s try not to break our necks, okay? I’ve got to see Chief Gray, and I’d just as soon you two stayed in one piece till I do.” Under the circumstances, she’d also prefer not to run up any medical bills because her children were overly energetic.

“But Mommy—” Maddie whined.

Fortunately Buttons, a chocolate dalmatian who was the station mascot, arrived to save the day.

“Buttons!” Forgetting all about swinging on the gate with her brother, Maddie raced to greet her canine buddy. The dog lapped at her face with his long tongue, and she giggled.

Her heart squeezing on a rush of love, Janice smiled at her daughter. Ray had never wanted the children to have a dog or even a cat. He’d claimed a pet would be too much work for him, although it was clear Janice would have carried most of the responsibility for an animal. Maybe now that he was gone—

She abruptly halted the thought as a guilty sense of betrayal washed over her. She shouldn’t be thinking about the good things that might happen because Ray had died a heroic death. Right now, she simply needed to concentrate on the survival of her family.

Hank Smyth, the engineer who drove the ladder truck, waved at her from across the way. “Hey, Janice, how’s it going?”

She waved back. “One day at a time.”

A moment later, another firefighter had come out to greet her. And then another. Before long, she was surrounded by well-wishers. As Logan had said, firefighters were a family and they hadn’t disowned her yet.

“Look,” she said, “I’ve got to go talk to the chief.”

“We’ll watch the kids,” Hank volunteered.

“I’m in charge of Maddie,” Greg Turrick announced, swooping the child into the air and making her scream in delight. As was his custom, he burst into a country-western song about her being the love of his life, which turned Maddie’s screams into giggles.

“You got ’em, gentlemen. But be careful. They’re my life now.”

The smiles she got in return let Janice know the men were grieving, too, and doing what they could for her.

Blinking away a fresh crop of tears, she turned toward the entrance to the offices. Damn it! If she didn’t stop “leaking” soon, she’d have to start taping tissues to her cheeks.

She’d barely started down the hallway to the chief’s office when Emma Jean Witkowsky stepped out of the door marked Dispatch. The jingle of silver bracelets accompanied her steps, her dark hair bouncing in rhythm.

“Oh, Janice, honey, I’m so glad to see you.” Emma Jean gave her a quick hug. “I’ve been reading my crystal ball and the news is wonderful. Absolutely wonderful!”

“Is that anything like a network bulletin interrupting regular programming?” In spite of her troubles, Janice couldn’t help teasing the fire station’s resident gypsy-psychic who, according to informed sources, got more of her predictions wrong than right.

“No, of course not.” Emma Jean laughed. “It’s just that your future looks rosy.” She frowned. “Of course, it’s a new ball I’m using, and I’ve only been taking crystal-ball-reading classes for a couple of months. It’s a correspondence course. So, to make sure everything’s going to be okay, maybe I ought to read your palm—”

Janice brushed a kiss to Emma Jean’s cheek. “I’m sure my future is in good hands. Thanks for caring.” It was the next couple of months Janice was worried about, not the long-term future. She had to believe that somehow everything would work out. A crystal ball wouldn’t help her. She’d have to do it herself.

A few steps down the hallway, she discovered Logan waiting for her outside the chief’s door. In his dark-blue uniform with its sharply creased pants and wrinkle-free shirt, he looked stunning, a perfect model for Firefighters Monthly. She swallowed hard at the thought.

“I heard you were here,” he said in a low, intimate voice. “You look nice.”

A flush crept up her neck. She’d worn a simple skirt, a summery blouse and sandals. It wasn’t exactly a professional outfit—and certainly not suitable if someone had expected to see her in deep mourning—but she’d wanted to make an upbeat impression on Chief Gray. Which was silly, since he already knew her. Still, she was inordinately pleased with Logan’s compliment.

“You look pretty good yourself, fireman,” she teased.

“They tell me I clean up okay.”

Amen to that. Logan Strong always drew one of the top bids at the annual Bachelor Auction to benefit the burn unit at the local hospital. If he weren’t such a kind, sympathetic man who obviously felt some responsibility to help the widow of a man he’d worked with, Janice wouldn’t be spending much time with Logan. She’d simply be grateful for whatever help he offered. Beyond that, she’d have to keep her imagination in check.

No way had he felt the same sense of intimacy, of forbidden sexual excitement, that she had last night when they’d said goodbye. To even consider that possibility was to deceive herself.

Hadn’t Ray made it clear she wasn’t the hottest thing between the covers? There was no reason to suspect Logan would ever be attracted to her.

Besides, her loyalty belonged to her husband. It was far too soon even to be considering a relationship with any other man.

“The chief’s waiting,” Logan said when she didn’t speak. “I just wanted to say hello and wish you luck.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“If you’re still here at lunch, there’s plenty for you and the kids. You could stick around.”

“Kevin and Maddie would like that.” Both children had idolized their father and his career, the few visits they’d made to the fire station highlights in their young lives. Janice wouldn’t deny them that joy now that their father was gone.

LEAVING JANICE at the chief’s office, Logan walked upstairs and sat down alone at one end of the picnic-style dining table. The crew of Engine 61 had kitchen duty. Usually, a couple of times a week, whoever was stuck with the cooking would pay Logan a little extra to handle the task—pocket change. But not today. For the past month he’d turned down all their offers. Since the warehouse fire that had killed Ray, his heart hadn’t been in eating, much less cooking.

Or much of anything else, he realized. Unable to look them in the eye, he’d kept his distance from his fellow firefighters. In his own mind, he deserved to be ostracized from the brotherhood for not having taken the steps that would have saved Ray’s life.

Even during physical training this morning when the men of Station Six had jogged around a six-mile course at the local park and then done calisthenics, he’d lingered at the back of the pack. Keeping his distance. Acting like an arsonist afraid of being caught.

The same thing would happen this afternoon when they had a white-board training session on handling hazardous materials scheduled. Even if there were empty chairs, he’d stand at the back of the room.

Because if he got too close to these men who knew him so well, they’d see the truth about what had happened that morning. Logan would be the one to destroy the memory of a firefighter and make the medal his son showed off so proudly no more meaningful than a piece of scrap metal.

He couldn’t do that. In the brotherhood of firefighters, loyalty demanded that he keep his mouth shut and his damning knowledge to himself.

Over the loudspeaker, Mike Gables announced lunch was ready and men began to wander into the dining area for a menu of make-your-own sandwiches, apples, cookies and potato chips. Pretty simple fare.