Bold and Brave-Hearted Read online

  “Thanks,” she whispered, startled by the powerful sensation of such a brief contact. She wished she could see his eyes behind his glasses, the distinctive copper-brown she remembered so clearly. Unfathomable eyes that gave away nothing. “I was sorry to hear about your accident.”

  He paused in the middle of twisting the top off his beer. “A temporary problem. No big deal.”

  Assuming, according to Chief Gray, that Jay didn’t manage to kill himself before he got his eyesight back. “I’m sure that’s true.”

  He finished twisting the top off and took a swig. “I guess the explosion at the plastics company made the news, huh?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been watching TV much lately.”

  “Then how did you—”

  “Your boss dropped by to see me. Chief Gray thought—”

  “The chief? Geez, what is this? A sympathy visit?” He whirled, his demeanor angry, and he marched across the room to the counter. “I don’t need your pity, Kim.”

  She could understand that. The thing Kim dreaded most was seeing pity and revulsion in someone’s eyes when they saw her scars. “I dropped by to see if I could help you in some way, not to pity you.” He was too virile, too much of a man, to be the object of anyone’s pity, certainly not Kim’s.

  “I don’t need your help, either. I’m getting along fine on my own, so you can finish your beer and be on your way.”

  “I see.” She twisted off the bottle cap and took a sip. The cool liquid slid down her throat; his rejection left a bitter aftertaste.

  In the silent kitchen, the cat nudged his empty dish with his nose, then padded across the room to wind his way between Jay’s legs. Ignoring the cat, Jay stared at a spot a little to Kim’s right, as if he didn’t quite know where she was standing but didn’t want to let on.

  “I think your cat’s hungry. His dish is empty.”

  “Right. I’ll take care of it.” Setting his beer on the counter, he opened a cupboard, and grabbed a box of Cheerios from a high shelf right next to a similar box of Friskies. Feeling his way with the toe of his tennis shoe, he found the cat’s dish, bent over and filled it to overflowing.

  Kim pulled her lip between her teeth. “Does your cat always eat breakfast food?”

  “What?”

  Sniffing disdainfully, Cat didn’t appear impressed with the menu selection.

  “You just filled his dish with Cheerios.”

  “I didn’t—” He picked up one of the circles, smelled it and nibbled half. “He likes variety, okay?”

  “The Friskies are in the box next to—”

  “I know that. I got confused. It happens when you can’t see anything.”

  Her heart ached for Jay, for his enormous pride that wouldn’t allow him to bend, to accept anyone’s help. “I did a story once at the Braille Institute in town. There are ways to organize your shelves and mark boxes and cans so you’ll be able to tell which is which.”

  “That seems like a helluva lot of trouble when I’m going to get these damn patches off in three or four weeks.”

  “Patches?”

  “Two of them.” He lifted the reflective dark glasses, propping them on his forehead. “Great, aren’t they? A real attractive addition to a man’s wardrobe.”

  In spite of the pain she knew he was in emotionally and the fear of permanent blindness he must be experiencing, Kim smiled. “You look like some totally radical pirate. Very dashing.”

  She wasn’t lying. With his burnished complexion, strong jaw and straight nose, he could easily be cast as a pirate hero in any Hollywood movie and scripted to steal a sweet damsel’s heart. Not that she thought of herself as a damsel, of course, but the storyline had considerable appeal.

  His full lips twitched with the hint of a smile, his mood switching back to the cheerful, determined man who’d been mowing his own yard—and making a hash of it. “You think so?”

  “Absolutely. Very dangerous and very attractive.”

  “Maybe I ought to lose the glasses. I could start a new fad with the guys at the fire station. Everybody on the job could wear eye patches.”

  “That might be stretching it a little. Hard to drive those big fire trucks when you can’t see where you’re going.”

  “The more I think about it, the more I like it.” Finding the cat’s dish again, he carried it to the counter, dumped most of the contents in the sink—the rest spilled onto the counter—and refilled it with Friskies, returning the dish to its place on the floor. “How ’bout you give me a chance to change my shirt and pants, and I’ll take you down to the station. We’ll lay the idea on the—”

  “No!” Panic shot through her. She didn’t go out in public, not since the earthquake. Not unless she absolutely had to.

  His eyebrows shot up. “What? You’re not going to let me prove to you how well I’m getting along on my own? That doesn’t seem very fair.”

  “It’s not that.” She couldn’t bear the thought of the pitying looks strangers sent in her direction and their shock when they got a good look at her scars.

  “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll drive.”

  “You’ll what?” she gasped. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Jay, you’re blind.” And possibly a lunatic.

  “So? Don’t you remember that TV commercial where the blind guy was driving a classic convertible? If he can do it, so can I.” He eased past her.

  “He wasn’t driving, Jay. He was being towed!”

  “Come to think of it,” he said as he sauntered down the hallway to what she took to be his bedroom, “I still could use some exercise. How ’bout we walk instead? It’s only a couple of blocks.”

  She was so stunned by his offer to drive, Kim forgot she didn’t want to go at all. Before she knew what was happening, he had changed into jeans and a clean shirt. He took her arm, giving her only an instant to wrap her scarf around her head and pick up the purse she’d dropped on the couch, and they were out the door walking toward the main thoroughfare running through Paseo del Real. His strides were long and confident, his attitude filled with bravado. Not unlike the way he’d been as an adolescent, she recalled.

  When they were growing up, Paseo del Real had been a quiet college town with a permanent population of about thirty thousand. That number had doubled in the intervening years. Malls had replaced strip shopping centers; a second high school had been built at the north end of town. Industry in search of cheap land and the tourist business had added a new flavor and vibrancy to the community. Tracts of new homes blossomed on what used to be farmland on the out-skirts of town, a more expensive crop than any farmer could afford.

  At the end of the block, Jay stepped off the curb just as a car was turning into the street. The driver hit his horn hard and shouted an obscenity.

  Kim yanked Jay back to the curb, virtually spinning him around.

  Visibly shaken, Jay swore. “Where did that guy come from?”

  “Around the corner. I didn’t see him either.” She’d been too involved in noting everything she could about Jay, the way his shoulders had grown broader over the years, that he’d added extra weight, all of which appeared to be muscle.

  “Dammit all. I listen for crossing cars, not somebody making a turn. He sneaked up on me.”

  “Maybe you ought to be using a white cane so they’ll watch out for you.” At least the driver might not have sworn so loudly.

  “Not a chance. I’m fine.”

  She gritted her teeth. Stubborn man. “How ’bout a Seeing Eye dog?”

  “I’ll put a harness on Cat, okay?” He turned, stepped off the curb and started off again. “Come on.”

  “Jay!”

  He halted in the middle of the residential street. “What’s wrong now?”

  “If you’re trying to get to Station Six, you’re going the wrong way.” She knew the main fire station was a block over on Paseo Boulevard and assumed that’s where Jay had been heading—anything farther
away and he might really have tried to drive her there.

  He tilted his head, trying to get his bearings again. Damn, he’d really messed up this time and almost got Kim killed in the process.

  Of all the people in the world, he hated the most for her to see him impaired. Blind. Dependent on the sympathy of others and their charity, like his mother had been.

  That wasn’t going to happen to him, not in this lifetime.

  The chief should have minded his own damn business and not sent Kim around to “rescue” him. Instead, she was a woman he ought to be protecting. She barely came up to his chin, so slender he’d guess a good wind would blow her over, her hands delicate, small. Feminine. The kind of hands a man wanted to feel on him, all over him.

  She wouldn’t be interested in fulfilling that fantasy with any man who wasn’t whole.

  Standing stock-still, he listened carefully, hearing the street traffic on the main boulevard through town. Turning towards the sound, he felt the warmth of the afternoon sun on his back. This wasn’t much different than finding his way out of a smoke-filled building, he told himself. You listen. Use all your senses.

  He pointed in the direction he knew was north. “The main road’s that way, right?”

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  “Great. Then let’s get going. I can’t wait to have the guys on C shift see me with the prettiest woman in town on my arm. They’ll all want eye patches.”

  KIM HAD NEVER thought of herself as a coward. She did now as they approached the fire station, and she pulled her scarf more securely around her head. More than anything, she wanted to turn and run away before anyone saw her.

  But she owed Jay more than that. He’d stayed with her in a collapsing building when she’d needed him. She could do no less for him now. And whether he admitted it or not, he needed someone. Otherwise, his ridiculous macho determination was going to get him killed.

  The three-story building was relatively new, its big doors mawing open to reveal two fire engines and a ladder truck gleaming red in the shadowed interior. One firefighter was polishing the headlights on the truck, another man was outside hoeing a recently planted bed of snapdragons, their colorful heads moving gently in a light breeze.

  From the back of the station, a dog came trotting out. He stopped, cocked his head to one side, then whined, breaking into a full gallop right toward Jay.

  Kim opened her mouth to warn him too late.

  The dalmatian leaped onto his chest, nearly knocking him down, and licked his face like a kid with a brand-new sucker.

  “Hey, Buttons.” Jay laughed, scratching and petting the dalmatian as though they were old friends. “I’m glad to see you too.”

  “I gather you two know each other,” Kim said dryly.

  “Sure do.” Jay give the dog another scratch behind the ears. “Kim, meet Mack Buttons, station mascot. Buttons, this is Kimberly Lydell. Be nice to her and she’ll get you on her TV show, make you a star.”

  Planting himself right in front of Kim, his tail whipping back and forth, Buttons looked up expectantly with his big brown eyes.

  Unable to resist, she petted his head, finding his spotted white coat like smooth velvet. The dog couldn’t be blamed for not knowing she’d been off the air for months and there was little chance she’d make him or anyone else a star anytime soon.

  “I’ve never seen a dalmatian with brown spots before,” she said.

  “They call this breed a chocolate dalmatian. But we figure somewhere along the way, he got into the wrong can of paint and now we can’t get the brown out.”

  She laughed, and the dog gave her a tentative, well-behaved lick with his tongue. “Yes, Mr. Buttons, you’re a good doggie, aren’t you?”

  When she looked up, they were surrounded by a half-dozen firefighters all in their neat blue uniforms. Instinctively, she turned her face to the side, trying to avoid their direct looks.

  “We aren’t usually that formal around here, calling the dog mister, I mean,” one of them said, flashing her an easy smile. He extended his hand. “I’m Mike Gables, Jay’s partner. He’d introduce us but he doesn’t have very good manners. I’m the one with all the panache around here.”

  “Watch out for him, Kim,” Jay warned. “He never has fewer than three women on the string at once, one for each day off during the week.”

  “I see.” In spite of herself, she smiled back at Gables, chancing a more direct look. She’d handled flirtatious men before. For the most part they were harmless—but not the kind of man she preferred. Tall, dark and a little aloof was more her style. Though in recent years she’d rarely had time to date, much less develop a relationship.

  Two other men crowded forward to introduce themselves, Ben and Bill, equally good-looking but without the flirtatious glint in their eyes. She noted their curious looks, the way they checked out her scarf, but they didn’t appear to dwell on what she was hiding. Maybe they didn’t care.

  They were quite solicitous of Jay, however. Eyeing him carefully. Asking how he was feeling. Any news from the doctor.

  He shrugged off all their questions.

  Another man who’d lingered at the back of the crowd finally spoke up. “Are you going to give the lady a tour of the place, Tolliver, or let these guys keep on ogling your girl?”

  “I’m not—” she sputtered.

  “Ignore Strong,” Mike told her. “Logan’s just bucking for a promotion.”

  “Are you guys ogling?” Jay asked, his forehead furrowed in what had to be mock anger.

  “Naw, not us,” they chorused.

  “We just don’t know what a good-lookin’ lady like Kim would be doing here with an ugly-butt guy like you,” Mike said.

  “Now just wait one darn minute.” Kim drew herself up to her full five feet three inches, tickled in spite of herself at the way the firefighters kidded each other. “I’ll have you know I’ve judged butt contests for KPRX-TV’s day at the beach and Jay’s would rate—” With an exaggerated effort, she took a look at Jay’s rear end encased in tight fitting jeans. Definitely a ten. “At least a nine.”

  The guys hooted and hollered.

  “Aw, come on,” Jay complained, but he was grinning too, the squint lines at the corners of his eyes visible beneath his dark glasses. “Gimme at least a nine and a half.”

  “If you’re very nice to me, maybe I’ll let you appeal the ruling of the judges.”

  The entire conversation deteriorated from that point on. Keeping a straight face was next to impossible, Kim’s self-consciousness about her scars slipping away under the sheer pressure of the firefighters’ camaraderie.

  And then suddenly, a high-pitched tone sounded, ear-splitting. Before it had stopped, the men standing around Kim scattered, running to their fire engines, slipping their feet into boots parked beside the trucks, pulling up heavy pants, hooking suspenders over their shoulders and grabbing turnout coats. Even the dog scampered off, leaping into the cab of one of the engines. It all happened like a well-choreographed ballet to the sound of a squawking radio that dispatched the helmeted dancers.

  Jay took her arm. “We need to get out of the way.”

  He didn’t hesitate but knew exactly the direction they should go to avoid being run over by the trucks that had already started their engines. They waited by a wall while the fire trucks rolled out of the station, one by one, sirens wailing.

  When they were gone, Jay lowered his head. His shoulders shook and she saw his chin quiver. In a futile effort, he whipped off his glasses and wiped at his eyes, forgetting the patches were in the way.

  “Jay?”

  He shook his head.

  “Let it out, Jay. It’s okay.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to swallow. “God, I miss that.”

  Her heart aching for him, Kim did the only thing she knew how to do. There were no words to comfort Jay in his grief, so she simply took him in her arms and held him …as he had once held her when she was trapped beneath a pile of rubbl
e. She hoped somehow she could give to him the strength and courage he had once shared with her.

  Chapter Three

  Jay stiffened and jerked back. Not that he didn’t like having Kim’s arms around him, her exquisite breasts pillowing against his chest, the floral scent of her hair tantalizing his senses.

  He did.

  But he hated like hell for her to see his weakness. To pity him.

  Grasping her slender shoulders, he shifted her away, and immediately missed her closeness, the heat of her body blending with his. He shuddered as if a cold blast of air had swept between them.

  “So,” he said, trying to cover his sense of loss. “You want a tour of the place?”

  “I don’t want to be a bother.”

  He heard an unfamiliar chill in her voice—a voice normally so warm and arousing, sexy as hell—and he silently chided himself for hurting her feelings. The fact that he didn’t want her help didn’t make her offer any less generous.

  “No bother,” he said softly. “We’re all pretty proud of the place.”

  “Fine then, if that’s what you’d like to do.”

  Taking a moment to regain his bearings, mentally recalling where the door to the offices was located, trying not to make it obvious, he ran his hand along the wall until he came to the doorjamb. He shoved the door open and ushered her inside.

  Except for the sound of the chief’s secretary talking on the phone, the interior hallway was quiet now that the station was empty of firefighters. No laughing. No bantering voices. The things he loved most about being on the job.

  “Where was the fire?” she asked, sliding her arm through his. “I couldn’t understand what they were saying over the loudspeaker.”

  “An apartment fire on Toledo. Second floor.”

  “I hope it’s not too bad.”

  “This time of day?” He shrugged. “Probably a grease fire in the kitchen.” It was nights when things could get hairy, where fires burned undetected and were already out of control when the trucks arrived.

  “Why did you decide to become a firefighter?” Kim asked.