most of the old wood of the step came with it. Holding the kid and the hose took some finesse as he turned around so he could stand. Trouble was he was facing going up instead of going down and the soul of his foot hurt. His mood was going to hell in a hurry.
He backed down a few steps until he passed the solid wall and reached the banisters. At the next step, the board broke, forcing him onto the step he’d just vacated. The stairway was weakening. He kicked the banister free with his good foot and jumped to the floor with the kid, hoping like hell the fire hadn’t deteriorated the floor. The last thing he needed was for them to end up in the basement.
The floorboards cracked when his boots hit, splintered, broke and through the dust of a century or more of life. Boyd and the child he held close to his chest fell to the top of the washer and dryer in the basement. The jagged edges of the old lumber tore off part of his face gear. Pain shot through Boyd’s head, back and that damn step still clung to his boot. Fuck!
He rolled off the dented appliances and, limping, searched for an outside door. On the other side of the basement, concrete steps lead to locked double doors. Laying the kid aside, he checked his pulse and respiratory rate. Both were fair. Boyd snatched his ax from his utility belt and hacked his way out of the wooden portal. Once he had a hole big enough to pass Dustin through, he gave his position and handed the boy off to another firefighter. He made the hole bigger and pushed himself and his step buddy nailed to the bottom of his boot through the ragged hole he’d made.
Once he’d hobbled his way to the ambulance, he could hear Dustin’s mother giving the kid holy hell. Boyd stood beside her. “Ma’am, I know you’re upset because your son risked his life and is lucky to have survived. But your husband put him in charge of something.” He tipped his head toward the glove Dustin clutched to his chest. “He took the lessons of being responsible you’ve probably been drilling into him and knew he had to get that glove for his dad. Kids think differently than adults. They haven’t mentally matured the capacity to reason things through, they just react.”
She nodded and started to cry. “Yes, I know.”
“You’ve got a fine son, ma’am. He’s one to be proud of. He truly is.”
He hobbled away to the other ambulance and asked someone to remove the board from his boot. It was all he could do to keep from yelling a string of cuss words when the EMT pulled out the nail for it had gone through his boot into his foot.
“Take your boot off. Let me look at that hole. You up to date on your tetanus shots?” The older, barrel chested man gave him the stink eye which galled him even more.
“Aren’t we all? It’s a company requirement.” He removed his boot and blood ran out. “Put some antiseptic on it, a patch and wrap it up. Looks like we’ve got hours of work left here today.”
“If you think I’m letting you…”
Boyd grasped the old man’s shirt. “You have no freaking idea the day I’ve had already. Don’t give me a bunch of bullshit. Fix my foot so I can do my damn job.”
The old man yelled for the captain who took one look at Boyd’s foot and pointed to the ambulance where the boy was being cared for. They rode to the hospital together, an ice pack on Boyd’s face where the wood had ripped away part of his protective mask.
A shower, a salad and a glass of wine and Graci-Ella had unwound enough from her day at work to watch the news she always recorded on the TV. Tonight, local news topped national. A fire destroyed one house and did serious damage to two others. One fireman rescued a boy from a burning building, falling through the steps and floor to the basement in the process. The boy sustained minor injuries and was released. The fireman was hospitalized.
The camera panned on the kid who talked in a hoarse voice about this giant of a man who kept him safe as they fell through floors and then carried him out of the building. “He was like Superman, but with bigger muscles, and he kept telling me I was going to be okay. Sometimes he called me by my real name and sometimes he’d call me Matty. I think maybe he got hit on the head and was confused.”
She sat straight in her comfy chair. Matty? The man the kid boasted about had to be Boyd. How badly was he hurt? She thumbed through her cell phone numbers until she found Noah Steele, Station thirty-two. A press of her thumb to call, and he answered on the second ring.
“Captain Steele here.”
“This is Graci-Ella. I just heard about the fire today on the news. I record it every day so I don’t miss it.” Stop rambling. I sound moronic.
His smile almost filtered across the phone lines like a handful of glitter. “And you want to know if it was Tiny who was hurt and how bad his injuries were and what room he was assigned at Bay Care Health System?”
Lord have mercy. Is this man a mind reader?
She twirled a strand of damp hair around her finger. “Well…ah…I knew he had a rough day with his son. I was hoping it wasn’t him. I do have his number, but I didn’t know if he’d have his cell or be in any shape to talk.”
A slow chuckle crackled over the line. “I’m an old army dawg, honey. I don’t mince words, especially when I see an instant attraction between two people I like. He’s in room three-ten. Take him some snicker doodles from Westside Bakery. Remember, room three-ten.” He ended the call and she flew to her bedroom to put on some clothes.
She called the bakery to see if they were still open and did they have snicker doodles. Did they also have chocolate chip pecan cookies and coconut macaroons? She ordered a dozen of the kind Boyd liked and a dozen mixed for herself. A change from her pajamas to red shorts, a white tank top over a red bra and red sneakers, as well as a quick make-up job, a spritz of perfume and she was out the door.
The hospital elevator stopped on the third floor and she made a turn, following the corridor toward Boyd’s room. Was she chasing after this guy like some needy female? He talked as if he was really into her, but was he? After all, they’d only met a few days ago. She glanced at the bag of boxed cookies. My God, she’d even gone out of her way to bring him his favorites. But, what if Captain Steele was teasing her, trying to make a fool of her? What if Boyd absolutely hated their cookies? She chewed her bottom lip; better to take them to work tomorrow and set the cookies out in the lunch room. Except, few of her co-workers would appreciate them. That was the thing.
She leaned against the edge of the open door to three-ten, working up the courage to peek in. If he was asleep, she’d just leave the cookies and run. Slowly she leaned around the doorjamb and peered in. His eyes were closed. His face was patched on one side. As quietly as she could, she set the bag on his nightstand and turned to leave. A wrist snaked out and grabbed her forearm.
Her head whipped around and gray eyes bore into hers. The heat of a blush traveled up her neck and across her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to waken you.”
“You didn’t.” His hand released hers and slid around her waist, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. “Your perfume did. Why did you wait so long to come in?” His gray gaze slid over her face. “I didn’t think women blushed anymore.” His perusal continued downward until it landed on her red lace bra under her tank top. “Why is it everything about you turns me on in a heartbeat?” He cleared his throat and exhaled a deep sigh.
“Please don’t tell me that pink and green bag is from Westside Bakery and has snicker doodles in it.” He entwined his fingers with hers and drew her to the bed next to his chest and she sat.
Quietly.
