Between Honor and Duty Read online

  Logan noted her hesitation, the odd way she’d phrased her response, and wondered about it. Not that Janice’s relationship with her husband was any of his business. His role was that of a concerned friend. Nothing more.

  He glanced at his watch, suddenly realizing the hour had grown late. “Guess I’d better get going. I’m on duty tomorrow.”

  She walked him toward the front of the house. “Thanks for hanging the screen door. I can’t tell you how many years I’ve wanted one of those.”

  “No problem. Let me know if there are any other chores you need doing. I’m pretty handy with a screwdriver.”

  “Well, there is that ten-page list in the kitchen that I was telling you about, if you’re really interested.”

  He laughed. “I’ll drop by next week and see what I can do. Meanwhile, thanks for dinner.”

  “You’re more than welcome. I really do appreciate your help.” She extended her hand.

  For a heartbeat, Logan hesitated, then took her hand in his. Her skin was too soft to wield a hammer, her fingers too delicate to twist a screwdriver. Instead, her hand was made for caressing a man’s flesh, soothing him after a long day. Arousing him.

  Abruptly releasing her hand, he cleared his throat. “You’ll come by to talk to the chief tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” She gazed into his eyes as though she had felt the same frisson of sexual awareness. “I’m determined to get my life together and not depend on anyone else, but I can’t let my pride stand in the way of taking care of my children. For now, I’ll have to ask for help.”

  “There’s no sin in that, Janice. You’ll always be a part of the firefighter family, and we take care of our own.”

  It was just a damn shame he felt something a lot more potent than brotherly affection for her.

  JANICE PARKED her minivan behind Station Six in the employee lot, and the kids scrambled out. The main fire station in Paseo del Real stood three stories tall with living quarters on the top two floors and administrative offices at street level. The open bay of the main building housed two fire engines, a paramedic unit and the ladder truck her husband used to ride. A training tower occupied the far corner of the property.

  Before she could warn Kevin not to, he hopped on the heavy wrought-iron gate that led to a back patio area and swung it for all he was worth. If she hadn’t known better, Janice would have sworn her son was part monkey. He’d swing from anything that held still long enough for him to climb on. To his father’s dismay, more times than not.

  “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.

  Logan decided he’d wait for Janice and her children.

  Getting up from the table, he wandered to the window overlooking the back of the station. Maddie was playing chase-the-dog’s-tail with Buttons; Kevin was hanging out with Tommy Tonka on Big Red, the 1930s-vintage fire engine the teenager was helping firefighters to restore. If all went well, the shiny rebuilt engine would lead the Founder’s Day parade in the fall. That was assuming they could find a new transmission or remake the old one.

  He smiled as he saw Janice come out of the station. A breeze caught her skirt, molding it against her slender legs as she said something to her kids. A moment later, they all headed back inside. They’d be coming upstairs soon.

  Silently he acknowledged he’d been unduly impatient to see her today. She might not be beautiful in the classic sense, but her genuine smile and the way her light-brown eyes lit up when she laughed had always tugged at something elemental within him. A reaction he needed to continue suppressing.

  He met Janice and the kids at the top of the stairs.

  “We get to eat lunch here with the firemens,” Maddie announced, as excited as most youngsters would be about a trip to McDonalds.

  With mock formality, he bowed them into the dining room. “Step right up to the counter, ladies and gentlemen. All the ham and cheese sandwiches you can eat.”

  Maddie giggled, Kevin swaggered ahead of his sister and Janice bestowed one of her heart-stopping smiles on Logan. He tried to remember she smiled at everyone that way and simply be glad he’d done something to boost her spirits.

  Helping the trio get their lunches organized, Logan served himself last, then sat down at a table opposite Janice.

  “How’d it go with the chief?” he asked.

  “He’ll get me a check within two days, so the monkey is off my back for the moment.”

  “Are we getting a monkey, Mommy?” Maddie asked around a mouthful of sandwich, mustard creasing the corners of her lips.

  “No, honey. That’s just an expression.”

  “Can we get a dog instead? One just like Buttons? I love him soooo much.”

  From down the table, Mike Gables said, “My son’s dog Suzie is expecting, and we think Buttons could be the daddy. We’re looking for good homes for the—”

  With a laugh, Janice held up her hand to halt Mike’s offer. “Why don’t we wait on that for a while?”

  Formerly the most studly bachelor in the Paseo del Real fire department, Mike had recently married and settled into family life with an adopted six-year-old son and the boy’s former social worker. The youngster’s ragamuffin dog had been part of the package, a shaggy female of indiscriminate breed. Questionable morals, too, Logan thought with a grin.

  “But Mommy, I’d love Buttons’ babies to pieces.”

  “Yes, dear, I know.” Janice smoothed her hand over her daughter’s hair. “Eat your lunch now, honey. We’ll talk about getting a dog later.”

  Kevin shoved his empty plate aside. “I’m all done, Mom. Can I go down the fire pole now?”

  “You certainly may not! You know your father never allowed you to do that.”

  “But, gee—”

  Logan swallowed a chuckle. The pole that firefighters slid down to the fire engines when an alarm sounded was like a magnet to kids. During school field trips, a man was stationed at the doorway to make sure a youngster didn’t take an unauthorized ride down the pole—or inadvertently fall into the three-story-deep hole that surrounded it. But the children of firefighters generally sneaked a slide at least once as they were growing up. Kevin was plenty old enough to give it a try—but not when his mother was telling him no.

  Coaxing Maddie to take a couple more bites of sandwich, Janice finished her own meal, then announced it was time for her to go. “I’ve got to take the children shopping for shoes. School starts next week.”

  “I’m going to be in kenner-garden,” Maddie said proudly.

  Logan smiled at her. “I bet you’ll be the smartest kid in the class, too.”

  “I already know my letters and I can write my own name.”

  “Good for you, sprite.” Collecting the empty plates before Janice could, Logan said, “Hang on a sec while I dump the trash. I’ll walk you downstairs.”

  She waited, although the children didn’t. Kevin, wearing thick-soled, designer running shoes, the laces untied, thundered down the stairs with Maddie fast on his heels.

  Janice followed more sedately, her hips moving with a natural grace. “I don’t know how my mother survived raising six kids. Those two wear me out.”

  “You’re doing fine. They’re great kids.”

  At the first-floor landing, she turned to look up at him. “Actually, my mother once told me that after three children, it becomes a crowd and they all entertain each other. I thought of us kids as a mob scene, but we did have some good times together.”

  “Did you want more children?” Before the words were out, Logan knew he should have bitten his tongue. “I’m sorry. Under the circumstances, that was a really thoughtless question.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” She shrugged. “I did want more children. Being a mother is one of the few things I do really well. But Ray wasn’t all that happy about Kevin—we hadn’t been married long—and then when I got pregnant with Maddie…” She let the thought dangle.

  Logan frowned at that. He’d like to have kids of his own, but without a wife that wasn’t likely to happen, and he couldn’t imagine a man not being thrilled by any child that was his. “I’d say if Maddie hadn’t come along, then both you and Ray would have missed out on something special.”

  Her wistful smile nearly undid him. “I know,” she said softly. “I told him that the day Maddie was bo
rn.”

  As they stepped through the doorway into the bay area, her gaze scanned past the parked fire engine to spot her children. Kevin was back to the restored fire truck, turning it into a jungle gym. Maddie was nowhere in sight.

  “Maddie!” Janice called. “It’s time to go.”

  “Maybe she’s already out at your car,” Logan suggested.

  “More likely she’s discussing puppies with Buttons.” She cupped her hands and shouted for Maddie again.

  This time the child appeared from around the back of the fire station, Buttons faithfully at her side. The guilty look on the little girl’s face was as obvious as if someone had painted a big letter G on her forehead.

  “What have you been up to?” her mother asked.

  Maddie hung her head. “Nuthin’.”

  “And what are you hiding behind your back?”

  Slowly, the child extended her hand. “A pencil.”

  Logan stepped forward to retrieve the item. It wasn’t a pencil but rather a thick purple felt pen like the ones the department used for white-board sessions. Harmless, he thought, until he examined Buttons more closely.

  “Janice, I think you’d better come take a look at this.”

  Cocking her head to the side, she scrutinized Buttons. “Oh, Maddie, what have you done?”

  The child puffed out her lower lip. “I liked Buttons’ spots and I thought he’d look nice with more spots.”

  “Purple spots?” Janice choked out, barely able to contain her laughter.

  Logan was in the same fix. His stomach muscles ached from holding back a howl of his own.

  The fire tone shattered the lighthearted moment. Over the loudspeaker the distorted voice of Emma Jean, the dispatcher, announced, “Engines 61 and 62, Ladder 67. Structure fire, Broadway and Twenty-fifth—”

  Before the directions were finished, Logan had turned away. But the quick touch of Janice’s hand on his arm, as soft as a butterfly landing, halted him. He glanced back, seeing the echo of fear in her soft, brown eyes.

  “Be careful,” she whispered.

  He nodded. “I always am.”

  Turning again, he raced to the ladder truck, stepping into his heavy, fire-resistant bunker pants that he’d earlier stacked on the floor beside the truck, and he slipped his feet into his boots. He pulled his suspenders up in one fluid motion before reaching for his heavy turnout jacket. At the same time, he swung into the backward-facing seat where his helmet was waiting. The truck vibrated as the engineer started the motor and the smell of exhaust fumes filled the bay.