Fan The Flames (Man Of The Month Book 3) (17 page)

He just prayed he wouldn’t fail.

Chapter Eight

Brad’s firehouse was a modern, three-bay structure that faced South Seventh. Running on battery, Scarlett’s Prius made no sound as she found the parking lot off Shenandoah and pulled in. “Are we here?” Colleen asked from her car seat.

“Yes.” Scarlett’s nerves tingled as she pressed the power button.

“Do you think Brad will like our cookies?”

“I’m sure he’ll love them. He suggested we bring them, didn’t he?” The latter part was more to calm her nerves than for Colleen to answer. Earlier that morning, Brad had texted her and asked what she was doing. She’d told him she and Colleen were baking sugar cookies, and he’d asked them if there were extras. She’d said yes, and he’d suggested she bring them to the firehouse.

“Will I get to see the fire truck?”

“I’m sure you will. You may unclip.”

Scarlett came around and let Colleen out of the car. She reached inside and removed the Tupperware container full of cookies. Brad must have been watching for them, for he opened the door when they arrived, and led them inside.

“We brought you cookies. I put the sprinkles on myself,” Colleen told him proudly.

“I can’t wait to try one. I bet they’re delicious. Come on in. Meet my crew.”

He led them into the bay, where a few guys stood around polishing the truck. “Scarlett, this is the crew I work with. Lewis, Roger and my lieutenant, Chris. She brought us cookies.”

“Nice to meet you,” the men chorused, and Scarlett peeled back the lid and held them out.

“Oh, those look good,” Chris said. He reached for one, took it out and popped it in his mouth. “Mmm. Delicious.”

That seemed to be the go sign, for the other three men also reached for cookies. “These are great,” Lewis complimented.

“Thanks.” Scarlett felt some of the tension ease. She’d been nervous coming here to Brad’s work and meeting the guys. None of them had been at the Mayor’s Ball. Yet pretty soon everyone was munching cookies, including a few guys from other crews. The container of several dozen emptied fast, and afterward, Lewis, who was older than Brad by over a decade, told Colleen she was about his granddaughter’s age and lifted her into the driver’s seat. Scarlett used her phone to take a picture, and then she and Brad stepped aside as Lewis began to show Colleen the rest of the truck and Chris and Kyle inspected some equipment. “We’re not bothering you, are we?”

“No, you could never be a bother. We had some cleaning and the morning’s been slow. The guys saw me texting you and I told them I’d get some cookies. This way you could meet them. See where I worked. And they’ll think you’re awesome since you brought treats.”

“So that’s all it takes? Baked goods?”

His grin warmed her insides. “What can I say? We’re easy.” Brad placed his hand on her back and guided her a few more steps away from the truck. He wore a long-sleeve blue T-shirt with the fire department logo and blue work pants. Turnout gear was scattered around in strategic places, ready for when a call came through.

“How about we spend some time together tomorrow?” Brad asked. “I went for a walk last night to clear my head and have a few things I’d like to share. I’d rather do them face-to-face. And maybe we can do dinner. A movie. Something?”

“Sure.”

He smiled. Touched her arm. “Good. I’d like that. And it’ll give me something to look forward to.”

A loud buzzer sounded, and Scarlett jumped. Brad froze. Listened as the speaker blared out the call details. “I have to go. I’ll text you later,” he said.

Across the way, Lewis helped Colleen out of the quint truck. She ran over. “Mommy, what’s that noise?”

“We have a call, pumpkin,” Brad told her. “We have to go help some people. You’ll be safe over there while we pull out.” He gave Scarlett a quick kiss on her cheek, jogged over to his gear and suited up. She moved Colleen over to the spot he’d indicated and they watched as Brad pulled on his bunker pants and drew on his coat. He then climbed into the driver’s seat, gave a quick wave before he pulled out, siren blaring. The other quint truck followed suit, and in the middle of the bay, the empty Tupperware sat as a lonely reminder that they’d all been eating cookies only moments before. An eerie silence fell.

“Time to go home,” Scarlett said. She went and retrieved her container. Reached for Colleen’s hand.

“When will Brad get back?”

“I don’t know. He has to go help people.”

“Is he a hero? Grandma says people who help others are heroes.”

“He’s a hero,” Scarlett said.

Colleen nodded. “Our hero.”

“Yes,” Scarlett said, bundling up Colleen’s coat and guiding her to the door. “That’s exactly what he is.”

*   *   *

“So that’s your girl,” Lewis said over the headphones as they rode to the scene of a two-alarm fire.

“She’s my tenant,” Brad shot back.

“Uh-huh,” Kyle replied. “When have you ever invited a woman to the firehouse? And don’t count those crazy calendar stalkers either.”

“Never,” Chris filled in the correct answer.

Luckily they’d reached the scene of the blaze, which meant work began and idle chatter ceased. The fire took a while to put out. But there was no rest for the weary. By midafternoon, everything changed. The calls came in one after another. Another cold front arrived, shooing away the calm weather and instead blanketing the area with freezing rain, making for slick, icy roads and lots of people playing bumper cars. They’d put out two space-heater fires, luckily minor and caught in time. Now they’d finished putting out a one-alarm fire at a local greasy spoon, which would be closed for quite a while after flames had gone up the back kitchen wall.

“Man, I could use more of those cookies your lady brought,” Lewis said as they began to stow their equipment. “I’m hungry. I hope there’s some grub when we get back.”

“Me too.” Brad slid the last of the equipment away. Around him, other crews began to load up their gear and head back to their respective houses. A news reporter stood as close to the building as allowed, waiting for the on-air light. It came on, and she began speaking. Brad hoped he wasn’t on camera. He hated that.

As he took a step, he froze, his foot in midair. Was that a plaintive, tiny meow? “Guys? Do you hear that?”

“I see it. Stay still. I got it.” Lewis swept in and scooped up the tiny kitten that had crawled close to the truck. The little cat was all black, except for an orange slash mark down its forehead. “Hey there,” he said. “You got good instincts.”

“He’s lucky I saw him,” Brad said, making sure nothing else was underfoot.

Lewis cradled the cat to his chest. “I’m not talking about you, I mean the cat’s got good instincts. He knows his meal ticket is closed. Looks about three or four months old.” The ragged thing gave the most pathetic meow ever. “The jury is still out on your instincts, especially if you don’t think the cookie lady is anything but your tenant.”

“Ha-ha,” Brad drolled.

“Does it need oxygen?” Roger asked. The truck carried pet oxygen masks.

Lewis gave it a once-over. “I don’t think he was in the smoke. Think he was outside.”

“Well, what do we do with it? We can’t keep it at the firehouse,” Chris said. He was the man in charge. “Where can it go? I don’t want to leave it here.”

Tucked into Lew’s arms, the cat was already purring.

“It’s clearly a stray. We can’t leave it here,” Roger agreed with Chris. He looked at Lewis. “Your wife’s the crazy cat lady always rescuing something or another. What do you suggest?”

“We can’t leave it here, but I can’t take it. I’ve got four already,” Lewis said. The kitten in his arms gave a small sigh and closed its eyes, safe and secure. “And my wife will kill me if we turn it in to the shelter, even a no-kill one. Most of those are full. You all know how Peggy is.”

“Oh yeah,” Roger agreed with a sage nod. “No one wants to cross Peggy.”

“You know,” Lew said thoughtfully, “your tenant’s little girl was telling me how much she wanted a kitten.”

They all turned as one to look at Brad. A pit formed in his stomach. He blinked. “Uh, no, she didn’t.”

“Uh, yeah, she did,” Lew added. “I asked her if she had pets and she said no. Asked me if I had some. Told her I had cats. Then she told me her mom had promised her one.”

Brad couldn’t tell if Lew was lying or not. Knew it didn’t matter.

Chris grinned. “Don’t you have that huge house?”

“I’m in the studio over the garage while I fix it up. Remember?”

“Plenty of space,” Lew said. “And how can you resist this face?”

Lew turned, and all Brad could see was the sweet face of a sleepy, tiny kitten. It gave another tiny meow and snuggled closer.

“Hey, did you rescue that kitten from the fire?” The reporter had come over to the truck. She gestured, and the cameraman began rolling. “I’m outside Essie’s where firefighters have just rescued a kitten caught up in the event. Can you tell us what will happen to it?”

Used to the press, Chris stepped forward. “It appears to be a stray and not to have suffered any injuries. Brad here is going to take it home.”

The reporter swung toward him, her eyes wide as she recognized him. “You’re Brad Silverman. So Mr. July is going to provide a home for an orphaned kitten.”

“Yes,” Brad replied. Lewis was already climbing into the truck with it. Brad turned, headed for the truck.

“Well, viewers, that’s a happy ending to this terrible event,” he heard her say as she recorded more story.

Brad slid into his seat and buckled up. That was the thing about being the newest member of the crew. You were always outranked, and these guys had worked together for about three years before Brad had come along. He pulled on his headset.

“I’ll text Peggy and ask her to bring some food and litter,” Lewis offered via headset.

“That will work,” Chris confirmed. “Cheer up, Brad. Sometimes it’s destiny. Now let’s get out of here.”

Yeah, right. Destiny. Which was why Brad found himself walking up to Scarlett’s back door at eight thirty Sunday morning, cat carrier in one hand and seven-pound bag of food in the other. The rest of the cat’s stuff was in his SUV. Who knew cats needed so much stuff? He rang the bell with his elbow, then set stuff down and used his key. The darn cat was howling up a storm inside the cat carrier, and he couldn’t blame him. He knew what it was like to feel trapped.

He entered the kitchen. Heard little feet running down the stairs as Colleen flew into the kitchen before her mother. She saw the carrier immediately. “Kitty!” she shrieked. The cat scooted to the back of the carrier.

“Shh,” he told her, setting it on the island. Her hands were already up in the air reaching, and he lifted her onto the bar chair. “Don’t scare it. He’s had a rough night.” Brad didn’t add that the beast had cried most of the night, keeping him awake when he did find a few minutes for sleep between calls. He’d finally taken the animal out of the carrier and let it sleep on his chest, for that had been the only way the kitten had settled. He had to admit, he’d grown a bit attached, especially after the cat had started purring in his arms after a feeding. The little guy had needed saving, and so Brad stepped up to the plate. He simply hadn’t expected the emotions that came with. No way was he letting him live elsewhere now.

“If kitty is going to live here, you have to learn some rules.”

Green eyes so like Scarlett’s watched him intently. “Okay.”

“First, you have to talk softly to the kitty. And when I take him out, you have to be very gentle.”

Colleen hadn’t stopped nodding. “I will. I can be very gentle.”

Brad opened the cage and took out the frightened animal. Sensing he was in Brad’s arms, the kitty calmed. Brad leaned over and let Colleen pet it, and then he transferred the animal to Colleen’s arms. “Shh,” she told the kitty. She cradled it like a doll and scratched behind its ears. The cat settled down immediately and began purring. “Does it have a name? Do I get to name the kitty? This is my kitty, right?”

“Right.”

“What are you two talking about?” Scarlett came into the kitchen. She’d swiped her hair into a ponytail and wore a baby-blue T-shirt and blue striped pajama pants. She wiped her eyes. “Sorry, my alarm just went off. Why did you ring the bell?” Then her eyes widened. Saw what Colleen held. “What is that?”

“Look, Mommy, Brad brought me a kitty.” Colleen began rocking the cat. “He’s purring, Mommy. Listen.” She lifted her arms up so her mom could hear.

“Found it after a call,” Brad said. “If you don’t believe me, it made the late news.”

“You were on the news?”

“Essie’s had a grease fire. Then we found the kitten. Reporter made it even a bigger deal than it was.”

Scarlett was dumbfounded. “It probably has fleas.”

“Nope. Got dipped last night. Ear mite treatment too. Lewis’s wife, Peggy, came by the station and treated it. Brought all sorts of cat things that we’d need and gave me a detailed shopping list for the rest.”

“She’s always wanted a cat.” Her hands went to her hips. Her chin jutted forward. “But I thought we’d wait a while. You could have discussed this with me first.”

Brad knew she wanted to kill him. “Is she allergic?”

“No.”

“Then the kitten comes with the house,” he said easily. “You already have the landlord’s approval, so no worries there. I’ll pay the vet bills. I mean, I can’t give him up now that everyone in the city thinks I’ve rescued him, and he’ll be happier over here with you than out above the garage. Peggy says it’ll need shots and fixing. It’s a boy.”

Colleen’s happiness was infectious. “Mommy, he has a Harry Potter mark. I’m calling him Harry. Cute Harry,” Colleen cooed. “Do you like it when I scratch your ears, Harry?” Harry responded with a purr.

She moved closer, trying to share Colleen’s excitement. “So this is Harry Harrison?” Scarlett asked, adding their last name.

“No, Mommy. This is Harry Potter.” She may not have seen the movies, but Colleen knew who Harry Potter was. “He’s my kitty.”

Scarlett knew when she was beaten. No way would she ask Colleen to give up cute little Harry, and besides, he was adorable. She reached out and scratched the top of his tiny head.