FRANKIE HAD DECIDED there was only one solution to her current predicament. She was going to seek revenge against Roman Salazar. Thanks to his disappearing act, Ezzie was at a loss for something to do, which meant when Frankie wasn’t on a call, she was...well, trapped.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like Ezzie. She liked the woman. A lot. It’s just that she was always...there. Even when Ezzie was baking, she was having a conversation, either with Frankie, Ozzy, Jasper or herself. Singing Christmas carols, rearranging—for the third time—the baking cabinet in the kitchen or cleaning. It was getting to the point Jasper had nothing to do as a probie. She’d even taken to dusting the holiday boughs and garlands strung around the station.
“She needs a job.” Ozzy sat on the edge of Frankie’s desk and gave her a pitying look as Frankie massaged her temples. “Like mother, like son—she’s bored.”
“And he skedaddled out of here this afternoon like a college freshman on his first spring break.” Her phone rang, identifying the caller. “Myra?” Frankie answered. “What’s wrong? You always call through dispatch.”
“Given this nonsense about closing the department, I don’t want to give Gil any more reason to shut you down,” Myra said. “I don’t know if this is an emergency or not, but I figured better safe than sorry. It’s Alice. She fell last night, and now she’s not feeling well and she won’t let us call a doctor. Would you mind—?”
“I’ll be right there.” Irritation stirred with anger. If Gil only knew the problems his proposal to shut the department down was causing. Now people were afraid of bothering them when it could very well be an emergency. She grabbed her keys, then stopped when Ozzy grabbed her arm.
“Don’t leave me alone with her,” he whispered. “Take me with you.”
“I’d rather you stayed here in case another call comes in.” His pained expression had her taking pity on him. “Ezzie?” she called, knowing she was going to regret this. “I’ve got a call over at a group home. Would you like to get out for a bit?”
Thank you, Ozzy mouthed, then turned a bright smile on Ezzie when she popped out of the kitchen.
“You owe me,” Frankie muttered to him.
“You mean it? Never mind. I don’t want you to change your mind.” Ezzie grabbed her oversize purse off the back of one of the chairs and followed Frankie to Dwayne.
“So this group home.” Ezzie turned in her seat to face Frankie. “What kind of group is it? Orphanage? Foster kids?”
“Senior citizens.” Frankie made a sharp left on Monarch Lane and hit the gas. “The nearest elder-care facility is more than an hour away, so a group of our older residents pooled their resources and bought a big house to share. Doesn’t cost them nearly as much, but the older they get, the more care they need. None of them drive, either. Which is both a blessing and a curse.” Frankie managed a small smile. “A lot of their calls are requests for rides, to doctors’ appointments, to go to the grocery store. Most times when they call nine-one-one we know it’s nothing life-threatening.” But this time could be the exception. “Of all of them, Alice Manning needs the most help. She’s got Parkinson’s. As far as I know, the rest are in pretty good health. Just...”
“Bored.” Ezzie sighed. “I can relate. Now that my Tony is gone and Roman’s living so far away, it’s hard to fill the days. And believe me, one can get very bored of cruises after a while.”
“I’ll take your word on that,” Frankie tried to joke.
Only a few minutes later, Frankie pulled the SUV into the driveway of the beautifully lighted Victorian house, angels and Rudolph battling it out on the front lawn in an odd holiday war for dominance. She walked to the back of the vehicle to retrieve her med kit.
“Oh, Frankie, thank you so much for coming.” Penny’s face was streaked with tears, her normally perfectly arranged white hair a bit mussed. “We’re so worried.”
“Ezzie, why don’t you wait—” That was as far as Frankie got, because Ezzie was already out of the car and heading straight for Penny.
“No need to worry any longer,” Ezzie said and wrapped a calming arm around Penny’s trembling shoulders. “Frankie’s here, and she’s going to take good care of Alice. How about we fix a nice pot of tea? It’ll calm everyone’s nerves a bit and let Frankie do what she needs to.”
“I—Yes.” After a blink of understanding, Penny nodded. “Yes, tea. That’s a lovely idea.”
“Why don’t you show me where the kitchen is and I’ll help. Come on. Come along.” She motioned for Frankie to go on ahead before she took Penny’s arm and led her inside.
Grateful for Ezzie’s help, Frankie strode to Alice’s ground-floor suite that had been updated with various amenities for someone with her condition. The bathroom in particular had a variety of handles and bars and wide space for when Alice would need a walker, which, given how her disease seemed to be progressing, would be soon. Finding Alice tucked into her bed, a mound of pillows at her back, looking pale and struggling to breathe, had Frankie reaching for her cell.
“See? I told you she’d come when we called.” Myra was sitting beside Alice on the bed, patting Alice’s hand. Oscar had taken up sentry duty in the corner, standing with his walker, his normally clear eyes narrowed with worry. “Alice, you let Frankie take a look at you, okay?”
Alice’s eyes filled. “I don’t want to be a bother. I told them not to call.”
“You are never a bother, Alice.” Frankie sat on the other side of Alice and quickly requested an ambulance. “I don’t like how that breathing sounds, so I’m going to have them take you in, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”
“She fell. Last night,” Myra said. “Didn’t tell any of us until this morning, when she said it hurt to move.”
“Where did you fall, Alice?” With gentle hands, Frankie checked for broken bones, bruises and any other potential injuries.
“Just there. On my way back from the bathroom.” Alice wheezed. “My chest hurts. Right here. And here.” She pressed a hand against her sternum, then her side. “It didn’t at first. I don’t think. I can’t remember. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Frankie assured her. “I’m always just a phone call away from you.” She took Alice’s temperature, listened to her breathing through her stethoscope. When she pressed a bit harder against Alice’s side, the old woman gasped.
“I don’t think you broke a rib, but you may have cracked or bruised one. Your blood pressure’s elevated, but that’s not surprising if you’re in pain.” She heard a siren in the distance. “You ready for a trip to see your doctor?”
“No. He’ll just give me more pills. I don’t want to take any more pills.”
“I’ll make a note of that for him,” Frankie assured her and tried to keep her calm until the ambulance arrived. “Now I’m going to call Abby and let her know what’s going on. No argument,” Frankie said when the EMTs wheeled in the gurney.
“Can I go with her?” Myra asked. “I don’t want her to be alone.”
“Yes, please,” Alice whispered, looking far more uneasy than Frankie was comfortable with.
Frankie had planned to go herself, but it was clear both Myra and Alice needed this. “Of course.” She pulled one of the EMTs aside and filled them in on Alice’s medical situation, including her list of medications, and Myra’s going with her.
As they loaded Alice into the ambulance, all of her fellow Cocoon Club members stood on the front porch, the strained silence hurting Frankie’s heart. “She’s going to be okay,” Frankie told them as the ambulance took off down the street, siren blaring once more.
“We should have paid better attention,” Marty muttered. “Dang night pills knock me out. I didn’t hear a thing, and I was right next door.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” Frankie told them and, with Ezzie’s help, ushered them back into the house. “None of you can. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened—”
“We should all be with her,” Delilah said as Ezzie retrieved the tea tray from the kitchen to bring into the living room. “We made a promise to each other. That none of us would be alone.”
“She’s not alone, she has Myra,” Ezzie told them.
“Who are you?” Oscar demanded in a tone that belied his frustration at Alice’s situation.
“Esmeralda Salazar. But call me Ezzie. I believe you know my son.” She draped a blanket over Eloise’s lap and pressed a warm cup of tea into her hand. “There you go. Drink up. You’ll feel better when you do.”
“You’re Roman’s mother?” Oscar asked for confirmation.
“Guilty as charged.”
Having Ezzie occupy Alice’s roommates, Frankie promptly called Abby to let her know what was going on with her grandmother. The gratitude and fear she heard in Abby’s voice had Frankie wishing she’d gone with Alice after all. But she’d only be in the way. The doctors needed to evaluate Alice without Frankie sticking her nose in.
Once she ended the call with Abby, she checked in with Ozzy before returning to the living room.
“Ezzie? I need to get back to the station.”
Ezzie looked around the sullen group, who seemed to be holding vigil for their friend. Ezzie patted Delilah’s leg before she got up and followed Frankie onto the porch. “If it’s all right, I’d like to stay for a bit. See if I can keep their spirits up. Make sure they eat something and are okay.”
“Oh.” Frankie nodded. “That’s great. Thank you. I’m sure they’d appreciate that. I’ll let you know what I hear from the hospital.”
“Excellent. They just seem a bit lost right now, don’t they? It doesn’t matter how old someone gets, it seems life is always too short. Things like this are a reminder of that.”
“Alice is family,” Frankie told her as something shifted inside her. “They’re all family. Call me when you need a ride back.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. You go on back to work. I’m sure it’ll be a bit easier on all of you without me prattling around over there.”
Frankie’s lips twitched.
“You think I don’t know I’m driving you all to distraction?” Ezzie squeezed her arm. “Go on now. We’ll be fine. I’ll call if there are any problems.”
“ANY WORD ON ALICE?” Roman asked Frankie as soon as she returned to the station house. The normal, optimistic shine on her face had been replaced with one of serious concern. She looked tired.
“Nothing yet. But she’s only just now gone to the hospital.” Frankie took a long drink of water from a bottle she pulled out of the fridge and then leaned on the counter to work out the kinks in her back. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a bruised rib. I hope that’s all it is. Your mom stayed back at the house. Hope that’s okay?”
“It’s fine.” And a load off his mind, considering he had run out of ways to entertain her. “How about you?” He hobbled closer, mentally counting down the days until he could get off these crutches.
“How about me what?”
“Alice is a friend. You care about her. You must be worried.”
“I am.” She looked up at him but didn’t say a word for the longest time. “Ozzy or Jasper around?”
“They’re finishing sorting through all those boxes I had them stash at the other house. Why? Oh. Okay.”
He released one crutch as Frankie stood and walked over to him. She slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. He could feel her face tighten as she squeezed her eyes shut and a shudder went through her. “Frankie,” he murmured, and pressed his lips against the top of her head. “What is it?”
“Something your mother said. About life being so short. Alice has had a good life. And I know people die. It’s just the circle of things, isn’t it?”
Thinking of his father, he nodded. “Sometimes the circle is smaller than we’d like.”
“Yeah.” She inhaled and looked up at him. “How about dinner tonight? Thanks to my new schedule, I’ve got a few hours off. Ozzy can cover the station.”
“Are you asking me out, Captain Bettencourt?”
“I am.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. But it was enough. “You up for it?”
Because he couldn’t resist her, he brushed his lips against hers. “Only if we can take a walk and look at the Christmas lights after dinner.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You and your Christmas. Fine. I’ll make a reservation at the Flutterby. Six thirty, okay?”
“I love a woman who takes charge.” He gave her a quick squeeze before she stepped away and headed back to her desk. He didn’t have time to miss her before his phone rang. The unfamiliar number on the screen had him frowning. Why did he know that area code? “Chief Salazar.”
“Chief, this is Constance Schumer with the federal fire investigators office. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
Roman’s heartbeat doubled against his ribs. “No, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
“It’s about the investigative agent position you applied for earlier this year. Our first choice for the position had some irregularities in his résumé we’ve only now become aware of. We’ve since rescinded our offer of employment to him. As you were next on the list, we’d like to offer you the position in our Seattle field office.”
“Oh. Really? Okay.” Was there something else he was supposed to say? There must have been something he was supposed to say. There must have been something he was supposed to feel other than panic. “Thank you so much. I’d love to say yes, but I’ve just started a six-month contract with the Butterfly Harbor department. I can’t break it.”
“You won’t have to. The next round of training doesn’t begin until mid-May. That gives you plenty of time to fulfill your current contract. Can I take that to mean you are interested in the position?”
“I, uh, yes, of course I’m interested. I just need to...” He leaned on his crutches and tried to catch his breath. “How long do I have before I need to give you a final answer?”
“Given this is last minute, I can give you until the twenty-sixth. The paperwork and background checks take a while. If you can’t accept by then, we’ll need to move down the list.”
“Fair enough. Can I reach you at this number?”
“Yes, you can. If you’d like, I can send you the details on the position and training requirements. Is this the correct email address?” She rattled off his personal one, and he confirmed before disconnecting.
“Everything okay, Roman?” Frankie wheeled her chair over to the doorway and turned bright eyes on him. Every cell in his body zinged at that smile of hers, at the way her lips quirked when she looked at him. As if she was keeping a secret he couldn’t wait to uncover.
“Fine,” he lied as a torrent of uncertainty rushed through him. She nodded and wheeled back out of sight. “Everything’s fine.”
Except it wasn’t, was it? Finally, finally he’d done it. The job was his. Excitement bubbled inside him like a champagne bottle ready to pop, only to then see the liquid fizzle as Frankie’s laughter drifted toward him.
Frankie.
The career, the future, everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d worked for, was within reach.
All he had to do to claim it was walk away from her.
“IT WAS NICE to have a reason to celebrate.” Frankie surprised herself—and Roman, it seemed—when she slipped her hand over his as they exited the Flutterby and walked down the twinkling wonderland that was Monarch Lane. It wasn’t the most romantic stroll she’d ever taken; crutches really did put a damper on things. But she’d faced tougher challenges before. “I’ve never seen Abby look so relieved.”
“Who knew bruised ribs could be a good thing.” He glanced down at their linked hands. “Telling Alice about the baby probably helped, too.”
“Abby did say that put the color back in her grandmother’s face. Did you call your mom to let her know?”
“I did.” Roman nodded. “They have a spare room that isn’t being used, so she’s going to stay there for the night. She’s fixing dinner for them.”
Frankie sighed, shook her head. “Took us a while, but we found a distraction for her.” She grinned at him, but not for the first time that evening, he seemed to be the distracted one. “Roman?” She tugged him to a stop in front of the old town saloon that had been, until recently, the mayor’s temporary office. She saw lights in the second story and resisted the urge to go in and give Gil a piece of her mind about his plans to close the station house.
But she wouldn’t. Not tonight. Not when she’d finally given herself permission to take a chance on Roman. On them. “Hey.” She squeezed his hand. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been kind of out of it all night. And you didn’t say anything about the fact this is the first time you’ve seen me in a dress.” Their date had given her the opportunity she’d been waiting for to wear the snug turquoise wraparound that had been burning a hole in her closet since she’d bought it. That, along with the strappy sandals and her loose hair should have knocked him off his feet. Instead, he’d simply smiled and nodded.
“Probably because you’ve robbed me of words tonight.”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “Try again. What’s going on?” she prodded. “This isn’t the Roman I expected to be with tonight so close to Christmas. Speaking of which, you do know your mother’s planning to host that whole Feast of the Seven Fishes at the station house tomorrow night, right?”
“She told me. Can we sit?” He motioned across the street. “Maybe just look at the lights for a bit?”
“Sure.” The anticipation that had been building throughout their dinner at the Flutterby faded, replaced by an unease she couldn’t quite explain. They took a seat on the stone wall separating the beach from the road. The cold stone made her shiver, and she drew her sweater tighter around her, scooted closer to him for warmth as he set his crutches aside. “How bad is it?” She tried to focus her attention on the myriad of lights outlining the shop windows, twinkling and sparkling against the shimmering red-and-white candy canes hoisted onto the lampposts that were wrapped with greenery.
“How bad is what?” he asked.
“Whatever’s on your mind.” She brushed the hair back from his eyes. “What’s got you so down? Is it Alice? Your mom? I know you’re missing your dad—”
“I got the job.” He cringed as he said it, as if he’d just swallowed a vial of poison. “The federal investigator’s job. Their first choice fell through, so they offered it to me.”
Frankie’s stomach dropped. “Oh.” Her throat tightened. “Well, that’s great, isn’t it?” She pulled her hands into her lap, twisting them together so hard her fingers went numb. “That’s what you want. And even sooner than the six months.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”
“Why not?” She pushed the question free despite wanting to stay silent. “Roman, this is what you’ve wanted. It’s what you’ve worked for. It’s right there for the taking. Of course you’re going to take it.”
He frowned, finally looking at her, but not with the expression she expected. “There’s no of course, Frankie. What about this? What about us?”
She shrugged. “What about us? We’ve had one dinner, Roman. And okay, yeah, there’s definite chemistry between us, but we haven’t taken any vows. You need to do this.” That was all there was to it. He needed to take the job. He needed to leave. Even though everything inside her wanted to scream at him to stay.
“Frankie, we need to talk about this. Without the sarcasm, if you don’t mind. We need to be honest with each other.”
“I am being honest.” She swallowed hard. Or as hard as her tightened throat would allow. “You’ve been given a chance at your dream. I’m not going to stand in your way.”
“What if I want you to stand in my way? What if I want you to tell me not to take it?” He turned and held her hands. “Tell me not to go, Frankie.”
She couldn’t stop the tears from forming in her eyes. But she could stop them from falling.
“I won’t do that, Roman. I can’t. No more than you’d tell me to come with you. Because you know I can’t. This is my home. And I will not be the reason you turned your back on what you’ve worked for or the promise you made to your father. It might not happen right away, but at some point you’d resent me for it, maybe despise me for it. And I’d hate myself for making you choose. You have to be the one to choose. It’s your life. Hey.” She brushed a finger across his cheek at the shock in his eyes. “It’s okay. We caught it in time. It’s not like either one of us is in love, right? We can walk away without being hurt.”
Oh, but she did hurt. A hurt so deep she could feel it in her bones. But that would be her secret. For as long as she needed to keep it.
“You know what?” She pulled away and stood up. “I’m going to head home. Better yet? I’m going to take a long walk on the beach. Alone,” she added when he struggled for his crutches. She leaned down and slipped off her sandals, dangling them from her fingers as she backed away. “I’ll see you at the station tomorrow, all right? Thank you for dinner.” Because she couldn’t resist, because she needed to touch him one more time, she leaned in and kissed him. “Goodbye, Roman.”
She was halfway down the beach before she let the tears fall.
CHRISTMAS EVE BROUGHT with it the familiar selection of seasonal music drifting quietly through the station house. In prepping for this evening’s Feast of the Seven Fishes, his mother had thought of everything, right down to the musical ambience.
Closing the door to his room and hobbling into the kitchen, Roman recalled how she’d arrived at the station that morning with even more of a spring in her step than usual, and a twinkle in her eye that would have rivaled the North Star.
Ozzy and Jasper were now helping her with the final touches for the evening by setting up two banquet tables she’d conned out of Jake at the youth center. Near as he could tell, she was expecting more than a dozen people for the first feast she’d hosted in five years.
“Are you going to wear that to dinner?” Ezzie halted next to him and stared. Their guests were due to arrive at any moment. Guests. At the station house. “Honestly, Roman. It’s Christmas Eve and you aren’t on call. Put on a tie, please.” She gave him “the look.”
He returned to his room and sorted through his meager selection of clothes that fortunately included a navy suit and tie. The same suit he’d worn for his interview with the feds. He changed and returned to find his mother steaming vegetables. “You look nice,” he told her. “Is that a new dress?”
“It is. I bought it for a cruise then didn’t wear it.” She spun, and the flare of the skirt had it lifting slightly. The dark green complimented her features, and the circle of embroidered poinsettias along the hem gave it that extra-festive touch. “There’s this darling retro shop back in Boston. It’s like being transported to the 1950s.” She touched the sharp-edged collar at her throat. “Oh, how your father would have loved to have seen you here in this kitchen.”
“Only if you were here with us.” He missed those days, walking in on his parents while they cooked for the holidays. The way they’d feign embarrassment over being caught kissing over the simmering sauce or dancing to the music drifting through the house. He wanted that. With Frankie. Those spur-of-the-moment bursts of happiness and joy, wrapped up in each other, spinning about the kitchen. He’d been hoping he might have had that with her. Until she made it clear they wouldn’t.
“Whatever’s been eating at you, either spit it out or chew it up,” Ezzie ordered. “Tonight’s a night for celebrating new life, a new year. The joy of the season. Not Ebenezer Scrooge’s worst qualities.”
He managed a smile at that. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, and Roman?” Ezzie touched her hair. “Whatever screwed things up between you and Frankie? Please fix it. I’m not losing that girl now that I’ve found her.”
Roman couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”
He hadn’t anticipated that a little over an hour later, he’d find that his mother—with Ozzy’s and Jasper’s help—had transformed the station house into a winter wonderland of lights and color. Frankie had done a job all on her own, but his mother just took it to the next level, including wrapped presents under the tree and a long, cloth-covered table beautifully set for eighteen.
Frankie was darting around the kitchen, following his mother’s instructions as Roman straightened his tie. He froze when he saw her, laughing and teasing his mother as they worked together, arranging platters of fish and pasta. She didn’t get the lecture about the evening’s dress code since she was on duty, but he entertained himself with thoughts of what she might have worn had circumstances, and work shifts, been different. The entire station house smelled like they’d been dropped into the middle of an Italian village, and there, on the back counter, sat a lasagna ready for tomorrow’s dinner.
The clattering of canes and a distinctive walker alerted him that the entire Cocoon Club was on the premises. He spotted them in the open bay door, arms loaded with plastic containers of food, including some crooked cupcakes with candy-cane frosting and sugar cubes with thin laces of frosting to replicate ribbon. The entire group—from Penny, wearing what had to be an actual sequined-tree shirt, to Delilah in all her floral finery, Eloise, Elliot, Harold and Marty followed closely by Myra—looked ready to celebrate.
“Sorry we’re late!” Myra announced. “We had to pick Alice up at the hospital. Look at her new wheels!” She stepped aside as Marty and Harold fought for steering power over Alice’s wheelchair.
“Alice.” Roman ignored doctor’s orders and set aside his crutches, leaning down to look her in the face. “You gave everyone quite a scare, young lady. How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thank you.” Alice beamed. “Everyone’s been treating me like a queen. Including your mother. Merry Christmas, Roman.” She covered his hand with hers. “I’m spending tomorrow with Abby and her family, but I wanted to spend tonight with this special one of mine.”
“We’re thrilled you could come,” Frankie said, avoiding Roman’s eyes as she swept past with a platter of fried calamari. “Come take your seats, everyone. Dinner’s just about ready. Oh, here, let me take those.” She plucked up containers and carried them into the kitchen.
When his mother emerged and gave him the stink eye, Roman nodded and Ezzie went to entertain their guests.
He closed the kitchen door behind him. “Frankie, we need to talk.”
Frankie froze, just for a moment, but didn’t look back at him.
“No, we really don’t. People leave. And you’re just the next one. I don’t know why I thought it would be any different.”
“Because I am different. We’re different. Frankie. Frankie, stop.” He caught her hand as she passed. “Please. I want to make this decision with you, not in spite of you.”
“There’s nothing to decide. You’re going to get everything you’ve ever wanted, Roman. I envy you that, but I’m not going to stand in your way.”
“But I’m not getting everything I want. I want you, Frankie. I love you.”
She tugged her hand free, eyes sparkling like emeralds. “You do not. You can’t. We don’t know each other well enough—”
“I knew the second you spilled coffee down your shirt the day we met.” It was true, he realized, and as he accepted it, he felt a calm descend. One that he embraced with his entire being. “What good are my wishes coming true if I can’t share them with you?”
“Don’t do that. Just...don’t.”
“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? Frankie, why is this so hard for you? Why can’t you admit you have feelings for me?”
“Because you aren’t safe!” She slapped a hand over her mouth as if wishing she could take the words back. “Because you walk into the fire.” Her voice broke. “And one day you aren’t going to come out.”
“Oh, Frankie.” There it was. The fear of losing him, so visible in her eyes he hurt for her. “Frankie, none of us are guaranteed another day. Look what happened with my father. He was a firefighter for years, but that isn’t what killed him. You can’t predict anyone’s future. Not mine. Not your own. I love you, Frankie Bettencourt. And I’m confident enough to say you love me, too.”
“Do not.” She lifted her chin.
He grinned. “Yeah, you do.”
“Doesn’t change anything. You have to take that job, Roman.”
“Why? Because it makes things easier for you? Because it’s simpler for you to give up rather than fight? I hate to tell you this, Frankie, but if it comes to choosing between that job and you...”
The station alarm blared.
“Fire reported, 1434 Monarch Lane. Two-story structure. Please respond.”
Frankie swore, ripped open the kitchen door and dived for the desk...that wasn’t there. “Where’s the radio?”
“Here!” Ozzy yelled, already responding. “BH engine one responding. ETA two minutes. Requesting backup from engine companies—” He rattled off the other towns. “Frankie?”
“Paging the team now.” She sent out the mass text. “I’m sorry, Ezzie.” She hurried past them. “Have dinner without us. What are you doing?” she demanded of Roman as he whipped off his jacket and undid his tie.
“Coming with you,” Roman said.
“Absolutely not. You’ll be in the way.” She shoved past him and into her gear in record time. She, Ozzy and Jasper were sprinting to the engine.
Roman stood in the bay, watching them load into the engine. He barked out last-minute instructions as they pulled out onto the street. They hit the siren and were gone.
Leaving Roman standing there. Alone.
“WHAT HAPPENED?” FRANKIE demanded of Luke once she got the engine parked in front of the onetime pub and mayor’s office. The sheriff, along with his deputies, Matt and Fletcher, held the growing crowd back, shop owners and residents drawn to the spot by the sound of the sirens.
“Not sure. Esther Rosenblat called it in. She saw flames in the window about fifteen minutes ago. Frankie,” Luke said, his gaze shifting to where Ozzy and Jasper were yanking the hose free. “It’s bad. The gas lines, the age of the structure—this place is a tinder box.”
“I know.” She’d been at the town meetings where a committee had been pleading to either tear the building down or refurbish it. Both requests had been dismissed as too costly. Which was part of the reason Gil had chosen it as his temporary office—to prove them wrong.
“We’ve got engines coming in to help.” She looked over as Kendall screeched the department SUV to a halt behind the engine, Sebastian, Kurt and Calliope’s husband, Xander Costas, spilling out, each of them suited up.
“Hook up the hoses!” she ordered, pointing to hoses on the truck then the hydrant. “Luke, keep doing what you’re doing, but we need to keep these people back. As far as you can get them. If a gas line’s involved...”
“Way ahead of you. Matt found the gas line and turned it off. But there’s no telling how much is in the building already.”
“Great. Good. I need Fletcher,” she yelled over her shoulder as she raced back to her team.
“Understood. Fletcher! Suit up! Kyle!” Luke yelled to the teen standing in the crowd. “Hop to, you’re with us. We want everyone back at least two blocks. Go!”
“On it.” Kyle sprang forward and ducked under the tape Luke had stretched to keep the people away and began pushing the growing crowd farther from the fire.
Another SUV pulled up behind Dwayne. Anger zipped through Frankie, knowing instantly who it was. “What are you doing here, Roman? I don’t have time—”
“No, you don’t. I’m not useless, Frankie. I can coordinate from out here. Give me a helmet and radio. And get me someone who knows this building. Xander! I could use your help.”
Frankie looked at the building and the flames licking behind the windows. “This is bad.”
“I know.” His nod was short, but she saw the concern in his eyes. Concern that proved why firefighters shouldn’t get involved with one another. Any objectivity had disappeared.
“Frankie!” A woman across the street called and waved to her. “Frankie!”
“Hoses are up and running,” Kendall called, taking the lead with Sebastian while Fletcher, now wearing protective gear, along with Kurt, circled around the other side of the building. Flames crackled into the night. Smoke drifted up and over the town, blocking out the moon and stars.
Frankie eyed who had called to her and rushed to the woman. It was Katie Enderlin, the mayor’s assistant. “Katie, what is it?”
“I think Gil’s in there. He was getting the last of the files. Wanted everything out before tomorrow. I left around six, and he was on his way over. I’ve tried to get him on his cell, but he isn’t answering.”
“Okay, thanks.” Frankie cursed. The last thing she expected was for someone to be inside. She grabbed her facemask, shoved on her helmet. “Roman? We might have someone inside.”
“Who?” Xander asked.
“Gil Hamilton.”
“The fire’s spreading fast,” Kendall said into her intercom. “It’s running hot, too.”
Time slowed. Frankie looked up at Roman and, through the plastic between them, saw he understood. “I have to go in.”
He nodded, his jaw tense. “Kendall, wet down that door. Xander? Ozzy? Frankie’s going in. I want you two on RIC. You wait here and go in if she needs you.”
Xander glanced at Ozzy, and they nodded in understanding.
“Frankie?” Roman grabbed her arm. “Stay safe.”
She grinned behind the mask. “Always.”
Frankie hurried to the front door and stood in front of the hose for a good few seconds before she busted the door open and stepped inside.
Heat blasted up and around her, gobbling up every bit of oxygen she had. Staying low, Frankie walked through the first story, kicking in doors to check for Gil.
Debris and ash rained down as the roof caught. Chunks of wood and ceiling hit the floor. Convinced the main level was clear, Frankie ran for the stairs, noting the stream of water hitting the back of the structure from where Ozzy and Sebastian were.
She knew, as her foot hit the second-story landing, that the building would be a complete loss. They’d keep the fire contained, and thankfully there was enough space around the structure that the flames shouldn’t spread. That there was no wind on this Christmas Eve seemed a particular blessing. Controlling her breathing, staying low, Frankie checked each room she passed, feeling the seconds tick away the closer she got to Gil’s office.
As she reached his doorway, thick plumes of smoke erupted. She couldn’t see anything. Her eyes watered, but she focused on taking slow, even breaths despite the hammering of her heart.
“Gil!” she screamed, scooting into the room and waiting. She heard a faint sound. There! Behind the desk. Near the open windows. Smoke billowed, and a figure sagged. “Gil!” Frankie was at his side in seconds. He collapsed onto the floor, his face covered in soot. He blinked at her, tried to open his eyes. She could see a gash on his head, blood trickling down the side of his face. A chunk of the ceiling had fallen on him. “Can you walk?” she yelled.
He nodded.
“Anyone else inside?”
“N-no.” He choked.
“Okay. Lean on me!” She ducked down, slipped his arm over her shoulders and half dragged him to the door.
The fire had gotten stronger. She could feel the heat under her, surrounding her. Gil coughed a cough that sounded as close to a death rattle as she ever wanted to hear. He clung to her, and she hoisted her arm around his waist to keep him upright.
“Frankie, where are you?” She could hear Kendall’s voice in her ear. Then Roman’s. The front of the building was engulfed. She’d have to find another way out. Down the stairs. One, two at a time. Gil sagged, and she felt him losing consciousness.
“Hang on, Gil. Don’t you dare do this to me. You and I have our fight to finish.”
Ten steps left. Nine. Eight. The wood beneath her creaked. Cracked. Broke apart. She dived forward. The second her feet lifted, the stairs disintegrated. The roof crumbled. Her head went light as the fire screeched closer.
Roman was right, Frankie realized in a flash. Anyone at any time, in any way, could lose their life. Firefighter, accountant, pharmacist. Roman, Ozzy...or her.
But it was too late. Too late to fix what she’d turned her back on. Too late to tell Roman what he’d dared her to say. That she loved him.
She didn’t remember landing before the world went dark.
“FRANKIE!” ROMAN YELLED into his intercom. “Frankie, answer me! Kendall? Sebastian? You see or hear anything?”
No one heard any response from Frankie.
Roman’s heart tried to beat itself free of his chest. “I can’t go in.” Frankie knew it and so did he now. He was a liability anywhere near that fire.
“I’ll go.” Ozzy appeared, helmet and mask covered in soot and ash. “I know the building. I can get in through the cellar.”
“Ozzy!” Luke grabbed his arm, held him back. “No. Let—”
“Let who? Sebastian? Fletcher?” Ozzy demanded. “They’ve got families, kids. I won’t stand back again. Not like when Charlie was in trouble. I can do this, Luke.” Ozzy locked his hand around his boss’s. “Trust me. Let me do this.”
“Frankie trained him,” Roman said, putting all his hopes for the future on the junior deputy while he managed the fire from here. “He can do it.”
Luke released his hold and gave a sharp nod. “Go get them.”
FRANKIE AWOKE CHOKING, dragging in air that had her nearly hyperventilating. Her head ached, and judging by the chunk of ceiling that had clipped her helmet, she wasn’t surprised. The partial collapse of the building had put out some of the flames. Enough so she could see better than before. She dragged herself up, pulled her feet in under her and crouched, reaching out for Gil, who had gone frighteningly still. She hauled him to her, hefted him and ducked, getting him over her shoulder before she stumbled forward.
“Frankie!”
She was afraid she was hearing things, but there, coming toward her, stomping through the debris and ash, she saw the yellow jacket and helmet. It wasn’t until he drew closer that she saw who it was. “Ozzy?”
“I’ve got a way out. Want me to take him?”
“He’s solid. For now.” Every muscle in her body ached. Ozzy grabbed her shoulder, pushing her in front of him and guiding her through the smoke-filled rooms and down into the cellar. When they cleared the building, Frankie dropped to her knees, unloading Gil onto the damp, cold grass. She’d never been so glad to touch solid ground.
She retched, coughed, and clawed at her mask and helmet until she got them off, sucking in fresh air by the mouthfuls.
“I’ve got them,” Ozzy was saying. “Bring the ambulance. Frankie’s conscious, but Gil’s not.”
“We’re on our way!”
“Is that Roman?” She gasped, gesturing for Ozzy to give her his mask. “My intercom’s gone.”
“Yeah, figured. Here. Just remember—”
“Roman?” She didn’t recognize her own voice. “You hear me?”
There was an extra beat before anyone spoke. “I hear you, Frankie.” The relief in his voice wrapped around her heart and squeezed.
“I love you. You hear that? I love you, Splatman.”
Another moment of silence. “I think everyone on this frequency heard you. But that means I have witnesses.”
His voice was getting louder. Frankie shoved off her tanks, dropped to the grass and on her back, drew her knees to her chest as she blinked up at the Christmas Eve sky. “I am so over regulations. I love you.” She laughed, and soon, she couldn’t stop. Not even when Roman bent down beside her and held her in his arms. “Where are we going? Where’s this new job of yours?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter.” He kissed her, tender and quick. “We aren’t leaving.”
“But...” No. No, no, no. She couldn’t let him give up. Couldn’t let him walk away. “I’ll go with you. You don’t even have to ask.”
“I don’t want to ask. My dad told me I’d know when I found my place. That my heart would know. I know now. My place is here, Frankie. In Butterfly Harbor. As your boss.” His grin was instant and had her laughing again as the last of the flames turned to smoke. “If you can handle that.”
Happiness swelled around the pain ricocheting through her body. “I’d like to try.”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE I have to spend Christmas in the hospital.” Frankie’s grumbling put a smile on Roman’s face. That she sounded a bit like a five-year-old who had been disappointed by Santa meant that all was right with the world. She coughed again, that feel-it-in-your-bones, all-the-way-to-your-feet kind of cough that came with smoke inhalation. She had her own room, and one of those gowns that didn’t close completely in the back. She looked exhausted, smoke-kissed and irritated. But she was alive. And she loved him.
That was all that mattered.
Roman propped his injured leg on her bed and ate the Jell-O she’d been given but rejected for breakfast. His stomach hadn’t stopped growling since last night, but he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight. Not for at least forty or fifty years.
He’d left her side only once since she’d been admitted, long enough to call Dr. Selena Collins and confirm that the black kitten was ready for his new home as soon as Frankie was back on her feet. It was a gift he was eager to give her; almost as eager as the other one he had planned.
“Mom’s on her way with real food,” Roman told her. And, trying to keep his voice somewhat calm, he added, “Said she had some kind of announcement or proclamation for us. Who knows.”
“About that job with the feds—”
Roman closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Frankie, one more word about that and I’m going to make sure they keep you here through New Year’s.”
“I just want you to be sure. I mean, you might not get another chance, and I don’t want you stuck in town—” He silenced her the only way he could think of. He stood up and kissed her.
“I’m not stuck in this town,” he murmured against her lips. “I’m home.”
She looked at him then, a smile forming slowly on her lips. “Right. I guess you are. Oh, hey, Gil.” She cleared her throat, which triggered another coughing bout. “Nice wheelchair.”
Gil wheeled himself into her room. He looked as if he’d gone ten rounds with the afterlife, and the slightly dazed look on his face proved it. “I wanted to thank you.” His raspy voice was barely audible.
“Just doing my job,” Frankie said with that gleam in her eye that told Roman she was implying a lot more. “Good thing the team was just a few minutes away from the fire. Any delay—”
“Any delay and I wouldn’t be here. Yeah. I get it.” And it looked as if he truly did. “We won’t be closing the station. And I’ll be approving your request for additional personnel. Enough for two full-timers, at least. The rest we’ll address as we go on.”
“I—we appreciate it,” Roman said, already certain who he wanted to hire first and permanently—Ozzy.
“I’ve called the mayor of Durante,” Gil continued. “Asked if they could spare a few firefighters while the two of you recoup. They should already be at the station. Ozzy’ll help them settle in.”
“Great.” Roman couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to Gil’s visit than this welcomed update.
Gil looked between the two of them, confirming Roman’s suspicion. “I’m also planning on presenting an amendment to how the department is structured.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and having co-chiefs, of equal rank and experience, makes the most sense. You know.” He shrugged. “In case you want to stay within regulations when it comes to fraternizing.”
“Co-chiefs?” Frankie angled a suspicious look at him. “Meaning you’re giving me the promotion after all? Because I saved your life or because I earned it?”
Gil smiled. “Always ready with a challenge, Frankie. Listen, can’t it be both? And maybe it’s time we called a truce. A real one. Surely, after last night, we can find a way to work together.”
Frankie nodded. “I’m good with that. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Chief.”
“Chief?” Monty’s voice blasted through the door before he stepped inside, Ezzie right on his heels. “Did I hear that right?”
“You did,” Frankie replied proudly.
“Has a familiar ring to it.” Monty sat next to his sister and set a giftwrapped box in her lap. “Brought what you asked me to.” He hugged her close, and Roman could see the last of the worry drop away from her brother’s face.
“Thank you,” Frankie whispered as Gil wheeled himself out. “Ezzie. What did you bring? The entire kitchen?”
“Well, I figured if I’m feeding you, I may as well feed the people who have to work today. I’ve got my assistants handing out plates of food. Oscar and Myra are putting his walker to good use.”
“Your assistants?” Roman cringed. “Mom? What’s going on?”
Ezzie sat at the end of Frankie’s bed and looked at him. “I’ve decided to make some changes in my life. I’ve got myself a new job.”
“A job where?” Roman asked.
“Here. In Butterfly Harbor. I’m moving into the senior center. I’m their new care adviser and events director. Paige said she could give me some training on the medical issues, including Alice’s special care needs. They have a spare room I’m going to fix up, and I’m going to buy a van. A nice big van we can use so they don’t have to call you all any more for rides. I’m going to be useful again,” she declared. “And it feels wonderful.”
“You’re moving here?” Roman gulped. “Maybe I should rethink that Seattle job after all.” He turned a panic-stricken look at Frankie, who was laughing.
“It’s a wonderful idea,” Frankie croaked. “It’s the perfect fit for all of you. And speaking of a perfect fit.” She held the package out to Roman.
“For me?”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” his mother chided. “Growing up, you always lived for Christmas. Never could get enough presents,” she added with a wink at Frankie. “He made up wish ornaments months ahead.”
“Noted for future reference,” Frankie said, smiling. “Go on. Open it.”
Monty slipped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. The look brother and sister exchanged had his nerves doing a bit of a jig. “Now I’m definitely curious,” he said.
He took his time, drawing out every moment of frustration he could as he tugged the paper off the box. He lifted the lid. “Frankie.” His throat tightened with emotion. “Frankie, what are you—”
“Try it on.” She scooted closer and handed him her father’s BHFD chief’s cap. “Try it on, Roman.”
He put it on, watched the love rise in her gaze as she reached for him. “It’s a perfect fit. My dad would have been proud for you to wear it.”
“But you’re chief, too, now. You should keep it.”
She shook her head, covering his hands with hers when he tried to pull it off. “It’s exactly where it belongs.” She kissed him again.
“Speaking of belonging.” Ezzie retrieved the box she’d brought with her. “Roman, you asked me to bring this hideous thing with me?” She handed him the humidor when he let go of Frankie.
“Right.” Roman opened the lid and withdrew a small velvet box that he handed to his mom. “The humidor wasn’t where Dad kept his cigars, Mom. It’s where he hid your gifts.”
“Oh!” Ezzie’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh, that silly, silly man.” She accepted the small box.
“I’m guessing he hadn’t gotten around to wrapping it, but there’s a card inside.” He snagged Frankie’s hand, and when she wrapped her fingers through his, his world settled.
“Merry Christmas. Love, your Tony.” Ezzie sniffed, then gasped when she looked at the brooch. “It’s a butterfly.” She plucked it free, and the orange and black stones glimmered against the lights of the hospital room. “It’s just beautiful.” She pinned it to her shirt.
“Just one more thing.” Roman withdrew the sprig of mistletoe his father had kept all these years. “In all your decorating, you neglected to include one thing,” he told Frankie.
“I didn’t think it was appropriate for the workplace,” she joked, her gaze softening as he held it over her head and leaned in for a kiss. “You gonna kiss me under the mistletoe, Splatman?” She grabbed hold of him and drew him close.
“Every year. For the rest of our lives.”
For more great
Butterfly Harbor romances from
Anna J. Stewart,
be sure to check out
www.Harlequin.com today!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Her Triplets’ Mistletoe Dad by Patricia Johns.