The Firefighters Of Darling Bay: Fire At Dusk Part 3

Hank took the opportunity of Samantha being gone to explore her apartment. The whole thing was as small as the kitchen at Station One, but it was warm. Welcoming, even though it was probably less than five hundred square feet, with only room for a bed and a tiny sofa. The kitchen sink had to be against code since it was an arms reach from the bathroom. The whole place looked like it needed be upgraded, actually. The light over the sink blinked and the old Formica on the countertop was stained with age. But she had color everywhere, from her violet bedspread to the gra.s.s green pillows topping the tiny blue couch. Cobalt gla.s.ses rested next to yellow plates. The overall result was a happy jumble.

French doors gave light on the west wall, even covered with a thin piece of purple fabric. He pushed aside the curtain, and let himself onto the porch. That door was also unlocked.

But what a reason to leave a door open. If he had French doors that opened onto a view of Darling Bay in all its frank beauty, Hank would want to be able to push them open at a seconds notice, too.

He leaned on the railing, sucking the cold morning ocean air deeply into his lungs. Man, even growing up here, even looking at the marina every day, it just never got old. Today it felt like he was seeing the docks for the first time, and indeed, he supposed that hed never seen the boats from quite this angle. Sure, hed seen them from the street hundreds of times, and from the top of the bank building where the fire department launched the 4th of July fireworks, but never from here, just one story up. In the harbor, at least thirty boats bobbed, their masts making the clanking, jingling noise Hank a.s.sociated with home. The air smelled of yeast from downstairs and of cold metal.

Below, on the sidewalk, Tonia Pringle caught sight of him and did a double take, almost losing hold of the leash she had on her tiny chihuahua, Mr. Chester. Awesome. Now gossip would fly. Tonia was best friends with Mrs. Finch, and within an hour, most of Darling Bay would know that Hank had been spotted on Samantha Rowes balcony.

Interesting to notice how little he minded.

He gave a short wave to Tonia. Good morning! Hows Mr. Chester doing today?

Tonia scooped up her dog and scurried off without saying anything. The Homeless Petes"both of them"were sharing a bottle on the bus stop bench and laughed as Tonia hustled.

So did Hank.

A sunbeam broke through the fog and bounced across the small balcony, lighting the old painted wood a brighter blue. The light matched his mood. It was going to be a terrific day.

If Samantha decided she wanted him there, that was.

CHAPTER SIX.

IN THE BATHROOM, Samantha shot another glance at her cell phone. Nothing back from Grace yet. Grace, who usually texted back within a minute. She sent another one. Were you going to TELL me, at least? I was NAKED when he came.

Nothing.

Fine.

She could do this herself. She was a business owner, after all, albeit a new one. Prior to this, the only business shed ever been in charge of was her paper route at age eleven which shed lost when she decided she didnt like getting up in the dark before school. Since then, shed always worked for someone. Shed done a million different jobs, most of them legal, but someone else had always paid her.

But now she was her own boss, and women like her had to do the hard things as well as the awesomely fun things.

Like firing someone.

Well.

Was it actually firing if theyd never really been hired? Its not like she and Hank had discussed a wage, or times of work. He hadnt even proved he could do the job yet.

Samantha jerked a comb through her wet hair. Shoot. If shed known he was coming, that Grace hadnt done her dirty work for her"okay, she did feel guilty for asking her to"she would have had time to figure out what to wear, to pick a shade of lipstick that looked good. Instead, the Samantha he was going to see was her regular old morning self, the one with no mascara and no contacts. Her gla.s.ses! She touched the rim of them with her fingers. She was almost legally blind without them, but she hadnt worn them in public for years.

But he was just going to have to deal with her as she was.

She blinked in the mirror.

Silly. It was silly to feel this upset. Her nerves tw.a.n.ged as if someone were striking them with a hammer.

She put on jeans from the tiny bathroom closet"the only closet the minuscule apartment had. She grabbed a clean black T-s.h.i.+rt, and not her lowest-cut one, either. She could be professional. Hide the double-Ds a little bit. She gathered back her hair into a ponytail and pushed her gla.s.ses more firmly onto her nose.

Great. Now she looked just about as stern as a person could be and not be shus.h.i.+ng someone at a library for laughing.

Hank wasnt in the living room, and she could tell with one quick glance that he couldnt be hiding in her bedroom, which was so small shed gotten the apartment at a studio rate.

The doors were open to the balcony and the scent of salt and fresh bagels blew through. Of course he was in her favorite spot.

There he was, sitting on one of her two iron chairs, a beam of suns.h.i.+ne resting across his knees like it was curling up in his lap.

Howdy, he said, his voice honeyed and slow.

Samantha felt her knees quake in a way she hadnt expected. Good morning. She sat. Cold out here.

You have more clothes on now, he pointed out. Unnecessarily.

I do.

Your gla.s.ses are cute on you. I never pictured you wearing them.

Thanks. I hate them.

Theyre hot. d.a.m.n it.

Samantha jumped. What?

Im really trying not to flirt with you.

The abrupt confession startled her. Okay. Why? Why was she asking? She didnt want to know the answer.

Except that she did. Very much so.

Because youre going to be my boss. Ish.

Ish, she repeated weakly.

He leaned back in the chair and looked good doing it. Did he have any idea what he looked like out here in the sun on her porch? In his dark-washed jeans and red flannel worn open over a blue T-s.h.i.+rt, the only thing he was missing was a cowboy hat.

It was good he wasnt wearing one. Good grief. She would not be able to handle that with any kind of equanimity. Not like she had any, anyway.

Yeah. I mean, the fire department is my first love. Obviously. But I can handle a second job, too. Lots of guys in the department do.

Samantha felt a small smile creep across her face. Remember how crazy you were in college about getting that job? She remembered more now, looking at him. She remembered the way hed told her his dearest dream, to save someones life while wearing the badge of the Darling Bay Fire Department. Hed been going to school for his fire science degree, and hed already put himself through paramedic training. Hed been only twenty-one then. So young.

How long did it actually take you to get hired?

I got in on the first try. He grinned, and Samantha noticed how straight and white his teeth were.

How old were you when you did? Shed left with Vicente not long after hed held her on the beach, his arms wrapped tightly around her as they looked up at the moon and whispered their dreams to each other.

Twenty-two.

They were both thirty-three now. Such a long time ago.

Feels like just about a minute to me. Oh, hey, big fella. Hank stretched out his fingers to the huge orange cat that had just jumped from her neighbors balcony railing to hers.

Thats Anchor. He lives with my neighbor Gus. Im not sure whos more interesting, Gus, or the cat.

Anchor wound its body around Hanks legs and then leaped"nimbly for a cat who must have weighed twenty pounds"into the puddle of suns.h.i.+ne in Hanks lap.

He likes me, said Hank, scratching the cat behind the ears.

She blurted it out, unable to keep it in a moment longer. I cant hire you.

He blinked. Those long lashes of his. Shed forgotten about those.

Youre firing me?

No, she groaned. I just cant hire you.

Why not?

Because.

Thats a terrible reason, you know.

I know.

Youre really bad at this.

She shoved her gla.s.ses higher onto her nose. We have history.

We do. And you just pointed out the fact that its ancient.

It was. But its there.

Historys a good thing for friends to have.

Samantha could hear the cat purring from where she sat. Traitor. Anchor usually loved her. But were not friends. She wanted to yank back the words the second they left her mouth. They sounded cruel. Hurtful. And shed meant to be the absolute opposite. Im sorry. What I mean is that"

Hank interrupted her smoothly. You meant that friends call each other on their birthdays and grab a quick bite together when theyre in the neighborhood.

Yeah! That was, actually, what she meant. Theyd never done that. She hadnt been around.

And they know when one of them is freaking out for no apparent reason.

Wait a minute.

He leaned forward. Behind him, to the northwest, a cl.u.s.ter of high-school kids"their only nod to the winter cold their hooded sweats.h.i.+rts"jockeyed for position on the low stone wall that separated the first pier from the boardwalk. To the scientifically trained eye"which mine is, by the way"youre freaking out for no apparent reason.

I have a very good reason.

And that is What was it again? This close to him, his malted-milk-colored eyes dancing in the cold sun, so close she could smell the clean fragrance of soap and maybe shaving cream, Samantha was having a hard time remembering what that reason was. Because it wouldnt be fair. To anyone. Im scared She stopped. She wasnt scared. Samantha didnt get scared. I mean, I would worry that That you would hurt me again?

Maybe?

Dont worry, sugar. You cant.

Good. She meant it. Youre happy, then?

One of the teen girls on the wall gave a loud laugh followed by a sharp scream.

What the h.e.l.l? Hank twisted in his chair. Anchor leaped off his lap with a complaint.

And before Samantha could even figure out what was going on below, Hank was over the railing, literally. He leaped over her rail, turning in midair as he grasped the edge of a wooden beam. Before she could even lean all the way over the rail, hed used the drainpipe to steady him as he took the last long leap to the ground. Looking up at her from the ground, he said, Get me a big towel as fast as you can.

He dodged a pickup truck and two cars, darting in front of them, smacking ones hood with the flat of his palm when it almost hit him. Samantha didnt even have time to draw another breath before he was across the street, vaulting the low wall the kids were crouching next to, huddled over a young mans p.r.o.ne form. From where she stood, she could see a rapidly growing pool of dark liquid coming from the boys head.

Towel. Hed said big. She only had one really big towel, and luckily, it was clean. She grabbed it, and raced out the door, down her stairs, and around the bagel shop. Luckily, there was no traffic coming and she pelted across the street, the white towel flapping behind her.

Perfect. It must have been for a tenth of a second"less"that Hanks eyes met hers, but the warmth of approval she felt in that moment was unexpected. Perfect.

From a pocket, he dug out a knife and slit the towel up the middle. He wadded one piece into a tight square and gave it to Samantha. See that wound?

How could she not? The boys skull seemed to be dented, blood pouring from the cut. He must have hit it against the old anchor that rested on the sidewalk, a favorite of the tourists who often cl.u.s.tered like seagulls around it to take photos. The boy was unconscious but appeared to be breathing.

Press it against the wound. Firmly.

A s.h.i.+ver shook Samantha, and then she stepped forward. You got it. The boy was younger than he looked at a distance"he couldnt be more than fourteen. She kneeled and pressed the towel to his head.

Careful not to jostle him. Hank wound the other half of the towel into a large U-shape and, reaching under her arm, fitted it around the boys head and neck. Were just stabilizing him until the ambulance gets here to transport him.

Samantha's head jerked up. 911. We have to call 911.

Beckie already did it. Thats what you said your name was, right? Beckie? His hand on the boys shoulder, Hank looked up at the girl who was crying the hardest, her phone still in her hand.

She nodded.

Good girl. You did an amazing job. Hear those sirens? Thats the help you called. Theyre going to take good of him, thanks to you. To Samantha, he said, A little more firmly. Its bleeding through a little. No, dont lift up to look. Thats right. Thats just perfect, Samantha.

Beckie spoke through her sobs, Is he going to die?

Hank gave a short laugh that did more to comfort Samantha than anything else could have. Are you kidding me? No way. Good old Ralphie heres going to be fine. That is, if his mother doesnt kill him for ditching first period with you bozos. I have very little control over whether she kills him later or not.

One of the other boys who had been standing, frozen in place, gave a relieved and high-pitched giggle.