The Firefighter Meets His Match (Red Hot Reunions Book 4) (9 page)

Twenty minutes ago, Lucy’s entire body had been buzzing with the certainty that they were getting closer and would find Faith before the hour was up.

But now…

She forced herself to release her death grip on Brandon’s hand and place both palms over the tee shirt in her lap. It was Faith’s, pulled from her locker at the firehouse when Lucy said she needed something that belonged to Faith to help focus her energy. A random tee shirt wasn’t the best choice—a tracking talisman worked better if it was something that meant a lot to the lost person—but it was the best Lucy could do on short notice. And there
was
energy coming off the shirt, not a lot, but hopefully enough.

Hopefully…

Lucy closed her eyes, focusing with everything in her. She ignored the hungry sound of the river churning around the boat, she ignored the slimy strands of her own hair lying heavy and damp against her neck, she ignored everything but the gentle buzz of awareness that flowed into her fingertips through the shirt and shot out through her chest like a laser beam pointing the way.

There! Lucy felt Faith again, the other woman’s energy much closer than it had been before.

“We should see her any minute,” Lucy said, lids flying open as she reached out to squeeze Brandon’s arm. “I’ll take the right bank, you take the left.”

Brandon nodded and turned his narrowed eyes toward the opposite shoreline, sending gratitude surging inside Lucy’s chest. She was so grateful that Brandon had believed in her, that he’d put his reputation at the firehouse on the line to insist that Lucy should help with the search.

She could tell Neil was skeptical about being sent out with “the psychic,” but Brandon hadn’t questioned her instincts for a second. He’d simply sat solidly beside her, nodding in silent encouragement each time Lucy felt her confidence flagging.

It was as if he knew what she was feeling, making her think he might have a touch of empath in him. It wouldn’t surprise her, really. Judging from their first encounter in the bedroom, Lucy could tell Brandon was more attuned to his partner than the average man, especially the average twenty-one-year old. He was special, and she meant to tell him so, as soon as they got Faith in the boat and were on their way to safety.

No sooner had the thought passed through her mind than Lucy saw a flash of bright yellow in the tree branches twenty feet away, maybe a yard above the rushing water.

“There!” she shouted, pointing. “In those trees!”

“Shit, you’re right,” Neil said, excitement clear in his voice as he steered the boat toward the right bank.

The closer they got, the more obvious it became that the person in the tree was Faith. The brightly colored suit the S.F.D. officers wore for water rescues made it easy to see where her legs dangled on either side of one large limb. She was leaning back against another limb, her eyes closed and her muddy blonde hair glued to either side of her face. She looked like she was sleeping, but she couldn’t be, because her arms were wrapped tight around a golden retriever, holding the dog safe on the limb in front of her.

Brandon called Faith’s name once…twice. Finally, when he shouted a third time, Faith’s lids flew open, the surprise in her eyes morphing instantly to relief as she spotted the boat.

“Thank God,” she said, sucking in a breath as she hugged the dog tight to her chest, a sob escaping her throat as the boat puttered beneath her perch. “I didn’t think anyone was coming. We got sucked so far downstream.”

“I’m going to reach up and get the dog, okay?” Brandon said, motioning for Lucy to help Neil hold the boat steady.

Lucy gripped the closest tree limb sticking out from beneath the water and held on tight, heart lurching when Brandon stood and the boat wobbled. As Brandon claimed the dog and deposited the soaking animal into the boat, the wobble became a pitch, but after only a moment the craft steadied.

“Come here, buddy,” Neil said, drawing the dog gently back between his legs, stroking the animal’s throat as it whimpered softly and lay down on the damp floor, clearly exhausted. “You’re safe now, boy.”

“She’s a girl, doofus,” Faith said, wincing as she braced herself on the limb and swung both legs over on one side.

Neil smiled. “Glad to know your adventure hasn’t made you soft.”

Faith returned his smile, but it was a weaker version of her usual grin. “Yeah, well, it hasn’t been all roses. I did something to my wrist. It hurt like hell when I was pulling me and Goldie into the tree.”

“Then how about I grab you around the waist?” Brandon said. “You want to lean into me and I’ll shift you into the boat?”

The height of the limb put Faith’s knees at about the same level as Brandon’s chest. The limb was only three feet out of the water, but Lucy still couldn’t believe Faith had been able to get both her and the dog out of the water and into the tree. Faith had six inches and a couple dozen pounds of pure muscle on Lucy, but she’d still done something amazing.

It made Lucy proud of her friend, and proud that she had helped ensure such a strong, determined person stuck around to save more lives.

“Okay.” Faith winced again. “On three?”

Brandon nodded. “One, two—”

On three, he reached out and Faith leaned forward. A moment later Brandon had Faith flipped over his shoulder with a minimum of boat shaking. He took a moment to steady himself, waiting for the craft to stabilize before guiding Faith’s feet to the floor of the boat and easing her onto the seat beside Lucy.

“Thank you,” Faith said, eyes closing as she let out a long, shaky breath.

“Our pleasure.” Brandon grinned as he took the seat at the front, facing toward them. He reached out, giving Faith’s knee a soft squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re all right. Everyone will be so relieved.”

“You take the radio and give a call,” Neil said, handing the boxy, black radio to Lucy who passed it up to Brandon. “I’ll get us turned around and headed in the right direction. Might take a while to get back against the current, but we’ll make it.”

Brandon fired up the radio, Neil maneuvered the boat in a tight semi-circle, and within a few minutes they were puttering back the way they’d come, just as the sun broke through the clouds, shining its rays on Georgia for the first time in six long days.

To Lucy, it felt like a bona fide sign that the worst was past.

“You want some water?” she asked Faith. “I’ve got some in my bag.”

“That sounds amazing.” Faith cast a tired glance Lucy’s way, a frown pulling at her features. “So how did you get roped into this? Do you have search and rescue training?”

“Lucy’s psychic,” Brandon said, the pride in his voice making Lucy grin. “She’s the one who knew where to start looking. She led us right to you.”

Faith glanced back at her, brows raised. “Really?” She took the water bottle Lucy offered, taking a long swig before she swiped her hand across her mouth and nodded. “You know, I wasn’t much of a believer in that kind of thing until Mick and I talked to a fortuneteller in New Orleans, but after…”

She broke off, her pale face growing even paler. “Oh God, is Mick okay? He must have been worried sick.”

“He’s out with one of the other search and rescue teams,” Brandon said. “They’ll meet us at the launch site.”

Faith smiled and her breath rushed out. “Good. I can’t wait to see him.” She cleared her throat, and sniffed, making Lucy think she was more shook up than she was letting on.

“I’ve got blankets, too,” Lucy added. “Do you want to slip out of your suit and wrap up?”

Faith shook her head. “No, I’m fine. These suits hold in body heat. I would kill for something hot to drink, though.”

“Well, you’re in luck.” Lucy pulled out her thermos and passed it over. “It’s just some old coffee from the firehouse, but it should warm you up.”

Faith accepted the thermos gratefully, but winced as she tried to twist off the top.

“Here, let me,” Lucy said. “I’m sorry, I forgot about your wrist.”

“I think it’s broken,” Faith said, while Lucy poured her a thermos-top full of black coffee. “I’m probably going to have a cast on for the wedding. But at least there’s going to be a wedding so…not going to complain.”

Lucy put her arm around Faith, rubbing her shoulder with one hand while she passed her the drink with the other. “You don’t have to be tough, you know. If you want to cry, no one here is going to judge. Or tell a soul.”

Faith nodded, her lips pressed together in a tight line as tears rose in her eyes. “Brandon wasn’t kidding about the psychic thing, huh?” she said, sniffing as tears streamed down her dirty face.

Lucy smiled and petted Faith’s matted hair. “It doesn’t take psychic powers to know being lost for five hours in a river is enough to make anyone want to cry.”

“I would cry,” Brandon said, obviously trying to make Faith feel better, endearing himself even further to Lucy in the process. “Way worse than you’re crying. There would be snot everywhere.”

Faith snorted with laughter. The snort made Lucy laugh and Lucy’s laugh made Brandon laugh, and pretty soon they were all laugh-crying—except for Neil who was looking at them sideways and warning the dog she was in a boat full of lunatics.

By the time the launch site came into view, they had all pulled themselves together and Lucy was practically twitching with anticipation, past ready to be back on dry land. The boat chugged down Pin Oak Street between waterlogged homes toward the crowd gathered on the hill. Dozens of people—all the other rescue teams, several uniformed policemen, and most of the fire department—were waiting by the edge of the water.

When Faith lifted an arm to wave, the crowd let out a cheer and began to applaud. Mick came running down the hill and waded into the water, meeting them ten feet from shore, leaning in to hug Faith tight. She buried her face in his neck and he held her close, cradling her head in his big hand, the expression on his face leaving no doubt how devastating this afternoon had been, or how grateful he was to have his fiancée home.

Lucy and Brandon averted their gazes, giving the couple some privacy. Their eyes met across the boat and Brandon smiled, a warm, intimate grin that Lucy felt to the tips of her toes. She suddenly couldn’t wait to get him back to her apartment and show him how much she appreciated his support, his bravery, and his exceptionally good heart. She didn’t want to go to bed alone tonight, or, if she had her way, any night from here on out.

Until now, she’d been grateful for the solitude in her nook above the bakery, but solitude was sounding a lot less appealing. Now, she wanted enough room for two, with a bed big enough to fit her unexpectedly beefy new boyfriend and a backyard big enough for a dog. Seeing the relief on Goldie’s sweet face as Brandon lifted the tired animal into the boat had made Lucy’s heart crack open even further, far enough to let in a new love, a new pet, and heck, maybe a few surrogate brothers and sisters, too.

For the first time since she resigned from the APD Lucy felt like she was part of a family of like-minded souls. She had missed this—missed working with a team to help make the world better. Stepping back into the familiar roll felt right, and she planned to have a talk with the Summerville Police as soon as she recovered from today’s adventure. She was ready to be useful again, past ready.

Several moments later, Mick and Faith finally stopped hugging long enough for Mick to tow the boat into shore. The water was too shallow for the motor and Mick could get them to dry land faster than Neil could with the single wooden paddle they’d brought with them. But the second the bottom of the boat scraped blacktop, Mick was lifting Faith out of the boat and into his arms, carrying her to the waiting ambulance like a knight in soggy armor.

Lucy, Brandon, and Neil—who carried the poor, tired dog—crawled out of the boat and were greeted by a rescue team bearing blankets and enthusiastic congratulations. Lucy accepted a blanket—she wasn’t cold, but she knew it felt good to do something for people you were concerned about—and turned to find Brandon shaking Jake’s hand.

Jake’s eyes shifted and a huge smile stretched across his face. It was the biggest grin she’d ever seen on the eldest Hansen brother and made him look at least five years younger.

“Thank you, Lucy,” Jake said, stepping toward her, pulling her into an unexpectedly fierce hug. “Thank you for finding our Faith.”

By the time he’d finished squeezing her, Lucy was breathless, but so happy she didn’t mind. This was what she did, this was part of the reason she was put on this earth. Sure, sometimes she failed and the lost people weren’t found, but sometimes she was the only thing standing between “in time” and “too late.” She’d been a coward to step away from her gift, no matter how much pain she’d been in.

As Jake set her down and shook her hand—once again with a little too much force, as if he were so relieved he no longer realized his own strength—Lucy swore not to be a coward again. She wanted to be brave. She might need a reminder not to chicken out now and then, but Brandon would help her. He was the type of man who helped his partner keep her promises.

She was ready to make another promise, too, one to the sexy firefighter looping his arm around her shoulders and holding her close to his side.

She kept her peace until she and Brandon were tucked into the back of a police car, headed back toward downtown Summerville, before she leaned over and whispered, “I was wrong. Jamison’s not my firefighter spirit animal. You are.”