he was more than a little aware of her hovering over him. She stood close behind him, her knees pressing against his back and her hands settled on his shoulders. Obviously, she had no qualms about getting familiar with strangers. Boone had to force himself not to physically shake her off. He did have qualms about getting familiar with strangers. And not just ones with huge, haunting blue eyes, either.
But now that the immediacy and danger of the situation had passed, he was able to consider her a little more fully. Still holding the mask over the cat’s muzzle, he turned around to look at her.
Man, she was a mess. Soot-covered, water-damaged, shivering from the cold and damp, she was bedraggled enough to qualify for urchin status. In spite of her appearance, however, there was something compelling about her. Boone wasn’t sure what, but something in her struck him as being just as spirited, just as much a survivor as her cat was. Had he not gone in after the animal, he was quite certain she would have done so herself, barefoot and unprotected as she was. Even at the risk of killing herself, she would have gone back to retrieve that cat.
He wasn’t sure he could say the same thing about himself. He was a loner, and he couldn’t imagine caring so much for someone that he would place that someone’s well-being above his own. Sure, part of what he did for a living was save lives. But hey, that was his job.
He was still thinking about that when the animal beneath his fingers began to twitch again. Then the cat began to thrash. Then it began to scratch. Before he could stop it from happening, the big black beast bared its claws again and tore a thin red line down the entire length of Boone’s thumb.
“Ow, dammit,” he growled.
Now he remembered why he hated cats. One of the reasons, anyway. He stuck his thumb into his mouth and sucked hard before pulling it out again to inspect the damage. While he was contemplating his wound, the cat disappeared from his grasp.
“Mack!” the woman behind him cried, bending over Boone so quickly and powerfully that she nearly knocked him sprawling to the ground. She yanked the cat up into her arms and buried her face in its fur, then started making kissy noises against its neck and ears. She glanced down at Boone, her expression concerned. “Is it okay to take the mask off now?”
He nodded, still sucking on the side of his thumb. Bastard cat, he thought.
The woman carefully removed the oxygen mask and held her pet aloft. “Oh, Mack,” she said, lowering the cat again to rub her nose playfully against his, the kissy noises becoming more pronounced.
Boone tried not to gag.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she went on, cuddling the animal in her arms exactly the way one would a newborn baby. She turned to gaze anxiously at Boone again. “He is going to be okay, isn’t he?”
At his nod, she expelled a shaky breath, her eyes filling with tears again. “You’re sure?” she asked anxiously. “I mean, he’s not going to have brain damage or anything, is he?”
“He’ll be fine,” Boone assured the woman, inspecting the damage to his hand again, wondering if he could say the same about himself. He hoped the beast’s shots were all up-to-date.
The woman dropped to her knees beside Boone and threw her free arm around him, to hug him close. Her next word was muffled against his neck, but it seemed to be, “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.”
Boone peeled her arm from around his neck, more than a little uncomfortable with her gesture. He wasn’t a hugger and never had been. He didn’t like huggers and never would. Hugs were just so...so... An involuntary shudder wound through him. He just wasn’t into that touchy-feely stuff. As quickly and discreetly as he could, he pushed himself away from the hug and moved out of range of any further public displays of affection.
Seemingly oblivious to his rebuff, the woman stood and began to nuzzle and hug the cat again as if it were a child. And oddly, the cat seemed to tolerate her gestures with no problem at all. Boone could only shake his head in wonder at them both. In spite of the cool morning, he was wringing wet with perspiration, thanks to the heat from the flames and the heaviness of his protective gear. So he unsnapped his helmet and removed it for a moment, to wipe the sweat off his face and out of his eyes before returning to fight the fire.
He was still running his hands briskly through his damp, dark blond curls when he heard the woman say, “Everything’s going to be okay, Mack. Just you wait and see.”
Boone was about to replace his helmet on his head when, as if cued by her comment, what was left of the house behind them came crashing in on top of itself. They spun around in shock and surprise to find flames thoroughly consuming her home. Boone eyed the woman warily, uncertain how she was going to take this new development.
Although she’d cried freely when she’d thought her cat was dead, her eyes were dry as she watched her house burn, her expression completely impassive. It was almost as if she didn’t care, he thought, wondering why not. Almost as if—
Her legs buckled beneath her then, and she fell hard onto her bottom beside Boone. She snuggled the cat close to her chest, nuzzling his head with her cheek. Then, still staring at her burning house, and almost as if she wasn’t even thinking about what she was doing, she felt around on the grass with her free hand until she located the teddy bear she’d been carrying with her. And she clutched that to her heart, too.
All Boone could think was that he hoped she had some heavy-duty fire insurance. Because the only thing she was going to have left in the world was the truck parked in her driveway and literally the clothes on her back.
And a recalcitrant tomcat.
And a ragged teddy bear.
“Sorry, lady,” he said softly. “But it looks like you’ve lost everything.”
She shook her head, squeezing the cat and the teddy bear close to her heart. “No, I haven’t,” she told him with a sad smile. “Everything I need, everything that matters most, is right here with me. Thanks to you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said with a negligent shake of his head. “Just doing my job.”
“You have no idea what you just did.”
Her words were cryptic, but he decided that was a result of her shock at seeing her possessions go up in smoke. He shrugged off the comment and replaced his helmet, ready to rejoin the battle. Of course, he conceded, the battle now was essentially lost—her house was toast. There was nothing more he or his colleagues could do except make sure the fire was confined to the one building until they finally extinguished it.
“What’s your name?” he heard the woman ask as he turned to leave her.
“Boone,” he replied automatically. “Boone Cagney.”
“I owe you, Boone Cagney,” she told him. “I owe you big. And I always pay my debts. Always.”
He turned to look at her and shook his head, shoving his hand into a heavy glove. “You don’t owe me jack, lady. Like I said. Just doing my job.”
“Lucy,” she murmured softly.
He turned to look at her and nearly lost himself in those spectacular blue eyes. “What?”
She was still holding the cat and the bear, and for some reason, Boone was overcome by a massive wave
