Colorado Fireman
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“Hey, your ugly mug will be all over the paper tomorrow,” Ken said. “Human interest, you know.”
“Or porcine …” Will said with a grin.
“Go away. Both of you,” Adam said. “And take her with you.”
“Come on, Lou. I’m sure we can find someone who appreciates your affectionate advances.”
Adam watched as Louella trotted off behind Will, her bright red boots contrasting with the snow. She paused and glanced back at him. “Don’t even think about it!”
Louella snorted and turned to follow Will.
“Darling!”
It was his mom again. Adam sighed. “Spare me from women,” he begged skyward.
“You don’t like women?” the mother with too many kids asked. She was holding one of her kids—the toddler he’d rescued. He was perched on her hip, but looked way too heavy for someone as small as her to be carrying around.
“He comes from a family of brothers,” his mother said, completely ignoring the fact that Adam was about to answer for himself. “Unfortunately, he doesn’t relate to the opposite sex very well.” She offered her hand to the woman. “I’m Sarah O’Malley, by the way.”
Adam wasn’t about to tell her he related perfectly well to women. Just not to bossy ones. Like his mom. And Lucy. And now this nosy woman with black spit all over her sneakers.
“Carly Spencer,” the woman said, giving her own hand to his mom to shake.
“So nice to meet you, dear, in spite of the circumstances,” Sarah said. “Of course I blame his father,” she continued. “The male decides the sex of the baby. After five boys I said enough!”
Lucy had returned to check on Molly, since the vet hadn’t arrived yet, and chuckled at his mom’s remark. Adam saw Carly Spencer’s mouth turn up in a smile. She’d be even prettier if she smiled more often. Still, she didn’t have much to be happy about, since her home had just gone up in flames.
“Ouch!” he yelped as Lucy reached over and prodded him.
“She’s only trying to help, darling,” his mother pointed out. “If you can’t be more civil, you’ll never find anyone to marry you.”
“Sometimes your conversation defies logic, Mom,” he muttered through the mask. He pulled it away from his face so she couldn’t mistake his words. “And I’m not looking for a wife,” he said, hoping she’d go away. And take the Carly woman with her.
“Oh, my God, you’re gay!” his mom said, as if this was a revelation that explained everything—his unmarried state, his aversion to moving back to his hometown, possibly even the cause of global warming.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course,” she added quickly.
“I’m not gay.”
“You’ve never had a relationship.”
“Trust me, Mom, I’ve had relationships.”
“With women?”
“Of course with women! Mom, seriously, you’re acting weird.”
“I just want to ensure the continuation of the O’Malley line.”
“Last count, you had seven grandkids. The O’Malley line is safe.”
“But …”
Adam forced himself to sit up. “Once and for all, Mom. I am not gay!”
Everything seemed to freeze—the chattering of bystanders, the whine of emergency vehicles, even the sound of water gushing from the fire hoses.
Heads swiveled in Adam’s direction. His colleagues, several of whom had stood down now the blaze was under control, turned toward him and stared. Louella snorted.
The television crews zeroed in on a developing human interest story. The Carly woman shifted her kid to the other hip and smiled.
Adam groaned.
His mom looked as if she wanted to argue further. Adam lay back down, replaced the oxygen mask over his face and closed his eyes.
Moments later, he heard his mother huff and go off in search of someone else to pester.
“Your mom seems concerned about you.”
“She’s concerned about everyone. Unfortunately, she’s insanely overprotective of me.” He wanted to assure her he wasn’t gay, but what was she to him? No one important. Just the mom of a kid he’d rescued. He’d never see her again after today. What did it matter what she thought about his sexuality? What did it matter what anyone thought? Even his mom.
“You’re the youngest?”
He opened an eye. “How’d you guess?” He felt he had to at least try to be polite, since this woman had just lost her home. In reality, he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. Especially anyone of the female sex. Between his mom’s nagging, this woman’s nosiness, Lucy’s brutal treatment, Molly the dog and Louella the pig slobbering on him, he’d had his fill of females for the day. What he really wanted was to take a long shower, have a beer and maybe watch a hockey game on TV with his dad. His dad rarely talked, never nagged. Mac O’Malley, patriarch of the O’Malley clan, was probably his best friend in the world. Pity Adam would never be able to talk about the night Rory Bennett died, even with Mac.
“Mothers have a special place in their hearts for the baby of the family.”
Did this woman ever shut up? Adam wondered. He was so sick of being called the baby of the family.
“Ma’am?” Adam was thankful when his captain’s voice intruded. He wanted to sleep instead of being surrounded by chattering people. Most of them women. “Your kids have all been cleared by the paramedics. You’re good to go.”
“Thank you. Thank you for everything,” she said. Then her lip quivered.
Oh, no, here come the tears, Adam thought.
Sure enough, the woman started to cry.
“Hey, there,” Lucy said, patting her back. “Your children are fine.” She pulled out her cell. “Who can I call for you? Do you have family nearby or friends you can stay with?”
The woman shook her head and staggered away.
Adam had never seen anyone look so desolate in his life. And he’d seen a lot of sorrow during his years in this job.
“Oh, my goodness.” His mom appeared out of nowhere and went to comfort the woman. She glared at Adam over her shoulder, as if he was the cause of her misery.
Adam strained to hear what they said to each other, then gave up. Lucy had given him the all clear, and Martin had released him from duty for the rest of his shift. It was time to head home and hit the shower. He sat up and glanced around. There were even more spectators than when he’d brought the dog down the ladder.
He could see his brother Matt conferring with the television crew. Matt was nodding his head. He turned in Adam’s direction and waved. Then he smiled. Matt rarely smiled.
As a youngster, Adam had held out for praise and encouragement from his big brother. He’d come to learn that exuberance wasn’t Matt’s way. A wave and smile would be all the compliment Adam could expect.
He stood too quickly and stumbled, but was caught by Matt’s strong arms before he hit the ground. “Hey, easy there, kid,” he said. “Sit down for a bit.”
Exhausted, Adam could only shake his head. “Need to get out of here. Take a shower.”
Molly was still lying on her back playing dead—except her tail was wagging. Matt bent down and rubbed her tummy. She rewarded him with a squirm of pleasure.
“The television people want to interview you.” Matt indicated the crew he’d been speaking to behind the police cordon.
“What for?” Adam looked away from their prying cameras. “I was just doing my job.”
He felt Matt’s hand on his shoulder and welcomed its warmth. “You’re a hero, little brother.”
He hated that word. He was no hero. “Like I said, I was just doing my job. Do you do interviews every time you arrest some bad guy?”
“You saved the life of a child and a dog. You know how this town loves dogs.”
“Then tell ‘em to donate generously to the pound.” Adam was fed up with talking. “Where’s your vehicle?” he asked. “Can you drive me home?”
Matt crossed his arms in a gesture that said he wasn’t pleased. “Since you live at home, why don’t you have Mom take you?”
“Because I want peace and quiet, not Mom alternating between singing my praises and getting hysterical about how risky my job is.”
“Mom is never hysterical.”
“You didn’t see her earlier.”
“Darling!”
“Speak of the devil,” Adam muttered as their mother returned.
“Could you drive Adam home?” she said to Matt. “Carly and her children don’t have anyone to stay with, so I’ve offered them the apartment over the stables for as long as they need it. Molly’s coming, too.”
What am I? Chopped liver? Adam felt like asking. Instead, he said, “In case you’ve forgotten, Mom, I’m living in the apartment over the stables.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that, darling, but I’m moving you into the house so Carly and her little brood can have some privacy. You don’t mind, do you?” Without waiting for his answer, she turned away and directed the Carly woman and her children toward her SUV.
Adam stared after her. “Is this the same person who, last week when I returned home, practically kissed the ground I walked on?”
“The very same,” Matt said. “You know Mom can’t resist a waif, and now she’s got five of them to care for. Correction—six.” Matt indicated Molly being lifted from her stretcher by one of the firefighters and carried to his mom’s vehicle.
“Can I stay at your place?” Adam begged. Matt and his wife, Beth, lived in a large home their brother Jack had built them in a picturesque valley outside town. Adam would love to live in that same valley one day. Someday. After he’d confronted his demons.
“Sure. I did tell you Sarah’s teething, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t. Now that you mention it, maybe I would be better off at home,” Adam said, and followed Matt to his vehicle. Although where he’d sleep, Adam had no idea, since one of his three nieces was occupying his old bedroom.
As it turned out, his tomboy of a niece Daisy was only too happy to give up her room to her “hero” uncle. So Adam slept among her animal posters and woke up during the night with a lump under the mattress that turned out to be a stirrup. He pulled it out, tossed it on the floor, coughed up more black goop and went back to sleep.
Chapter Two
Awakened the next morning by pandemonium from the kitchen, Adam recognized the deep pitch of several of his brothers’ voices and an occasional “Shh!” from his mom.
He stumbled out of bed, washed his face but didn’t bother shaving and went downstairs, hungry enough to eat one of their prize black Angus steers all by himself. He’d missed dinner since he’d taken the much-wanted shower and fallen into bed, exhausted, and slept through the night.
Sunday mornings, the family usually gathered at Two Elk Ranch for breakfast. However, today was Saturday, Adam noted as he strode into the kitchen, a huge room that accommodated the family dining table. Today it was packed to overflowing with all his brothers.
“Here he is!” Celeste, his youngest niece, cried and ran to him, her arms outstretched.
Adam bent to lift Celeste the way he’d done a hundred times before, but as he did, a muscle twitched with pain. He grunted and nearly dropped her.
His reaction had most of the occupants of the kitchen rushing forward to help him. He held out a hand to restrain them and ruffled Celeste’s hair. “Next time, kiddo,” he said. “I must’ve put out something in my back.”
He rubbed at the spot, but couldn’t quite reach it.
“Then it’s lucky Carly is a massage therapist,” his brother Will said. He came around the table to clap Adam on the back, making him wince. “And in case I didn’t say it yesterday, well done, little brother. Anyone who saves a dog is good people in my book.”
Speaking of the dog, he wondered where she was. Adam tried not to groan as Will slapped him again.
“You should have Carly look at that,” his mom said.
“I’d be happy to.”
Adam glanced around and found the woman with too many children, with the littlest one perched on her hip. She seemed slightly less vulnerable than she had the last time he’d seen her. The toddler’s face was covered with goo that might or might not have been oatmeal. He smiled and waved at Adam. Adam forced himself to smile back. He smiled at the mom, too—but not an overly friendly smile, since she and her kids were responsible for getting him booted out of the apartment above the stables.
He wished he could disappear. He wasn’t comfortable with crowds, even if he was related to most of the people there. How he missed the seclusion of that apartment.
Then his eyes fell on the newspaper spread across the table and his stomach lurched. The headline, Hometown Hero, glared up at Adam, along with a photo of him carrying the child out of the burning apartment building. A smaller one showed him and Molly lying on their stretchers side by side. Unfortunately, it also featured Louella kissing him. The caption beneath read Mayor’s Pet Pig Thanks Heroic Firefighter Adam O’Malley.
Adam hated seeing the word hero associated with his name. He was no hero. Heroes didn’t let their friend take the rap for a fatal car accident.
His dad came forward and clapped him on the back. Like his two oldest sons, Luke and Matt, Mac O’Malley was a man of few words. Adam figured his mom more than made up for it. He didn’t expect his dad to say anything, so when Adam saw tears brimming in his eyes, he nodded and let his dad pass by him and leave the kitchen.
His brother Jack came over and was about to clap him on the back, too, but Adam held up his hand and Jack dropped his. “Sore, eh, buddy?” Jack asked, and Adam nodded.
“I’m so proud of you,” Jack said. Then tears welled in his eyes, as well.
Oh, jeez, this was what he didn’t need, an outpouring of emotion from the O’Malley men. Although he and Jack were separated in age by only eleven months, they were pretty much opposite in temperament. Jack wore his heart on his sleeve; Adam wasn’t sure if he even had a heart.
Coming back to town had been a bad idea. He shouldn’t have accepted that one-month posting to Spruce Lake to cover an absence in the department. He should’ve gone somewhere else in Colorado. Anywhere else! But his mom had pressured him to take the posting, saying he was missing out on seeing his nieces and nephews growing up.
Adam had enough guilt to deal with, so he’d agreed to the job, telling himself it was only for a month. He could survive a month without having to get too close to anyone or having to care too much. And then he could return to Boulder, where no one knew anything about his past and no one ever pried into his private business.
“Thank you for saving Molly, mister.”
Adam looked down into the pale blue eyes of the Carly woman’s daughter. Sheesh! Her eyes were brimming, too.
He patted her on the head. “You’re welcome, kid.” And then to deflect the gratitude of the rest of the children who were moving in his direction, he asked, “So where’s Molly?”
“She’s right here, Uncle Adam.” He heard Luke’s middle daughter Daisy’s voice from somewhere behind the crowd in the kitchen. He walked toward it and found her seated on the floor, the dog’s head in her lap. Daisy had always had a way with animals.
As much as it was possible for a basset to look anything but deeply saddened by life, the dog had an expression of bliss on her face as Daisy stroked her ears.
Molly was lying on a blanket. A blanket Adam recognized from his childhood. A blanket he was very fond of.
“That’s my blanket,” he couldn’t help saying, and turned accusingly to his mother.
She flapped the spatula at him and said, “You haven’t used that in years. So I’ve given it to Molly. She needs it more than you.”
“I might have wanted to use it,” he muttered. It was the principle of the thing. He mightn’t have used the blanket for more than twenty years, but it was a well-worn and much-loved childhood companion, and for some stupid reason he felt a sense of possessiveness about it. It sure as hell didn’t deserve to be used as a dog blanket.
“It’s Molly’s now,” Daisy piped up.
His oldest brother, Luke, who ran the family ranch, pressed him down into one of the vacated chairs at the table that occupied the huge country-style kitchen. The table easily sat ten, twelve at a pinch, and today people were rotating chairs as they finished breakfast and made way for the next shift.
He took his seat—beside Carly—and studied the occupants of the kitchen. Although heavily pregnant, Luke’s wife, Megan, was helping his mom prepare and serve. Luke’s oldest daughter, Sasha, was talking to Will’s stepson, Nick, while Celeste, Luke’s youngest, was chatting animatedly with the little girl who’d thanked him before. The two boys who belonged to Carly were bolting down second helpings of oatmeal like they hadn’t been fed in a week. Maybe they hadn’t, Adam decided. Their apartment wasn’t exactly in the town’s high-rent district.
And where was their father? he wanted to ask, not for the first time. Shouldn’t he be taking care of his family?
“Where’s your husband?” Adam blurted, before he could stop himself.
Silence descended on the kitchen and Adam wished the floor would open up.
She looked back at him with a frankness that was daunting and said, “He’s dead.”
CARLY SPENCER TOOK GRIM satisfaction in watching Adam O’Malley’s discomfort as he swallowed her answer and half hoped he’d choke on it. She’d already told Adam’s family that her husband, Michael, was a firefighter who’d perished in a warehouse fire in San Diego. She’d been seven months pregnant with Charlie at the time.
And now she felt bad about her bald statement. She, of all people, having been married to a firefighter, should’ve been more circumspect. But something perverse had made her answer his question as rudely as it had been asked.
What was it with this guy? He had the nicest, most welcoming family, but he was so emotionally distant, it was almost scary.
He’d done the bravest thing yesterday, not only rescuing her son Charlie but defying his battalion chief’s orders and saving Molly. Yet when she’d tried to thank him, he’d been so offhand it bordered on arrogant.
She’d wanted to call him on his behavior, but there was something in Adam O’Malley’s dark brown eyes that spoke of a hurt far greater than Carly suspected he ever revealed to others. So instead of challenging him further, she asked, “Would you like some bacon?” and passed the plate to him without waiting for his answer.
His mother came up behind him and scooped scrambled eggs onto his plate, kissing the top of his head as she did.
Carly didn’t miss the deep blush beneath his tan. That was interesting, the relationship between him and his mom. She got the feeling Sarah irritated him at times. Like now. She was bent over him from behind, hugging him.
“Mom. Please?” he murmured.
“I’m just so happy to have you home. And alive,” his mom said, and kissed the top of his head again before releasing him. The guy was clearly embarrassed by his mother’s display of affection. Sarah, however, seemed to revel in exasperating—if that was the right word—her youngest son, as if she was deliberately trying to provoke a reaction.
She returned with the coffeepot and poured Adam a cup, then went to put cream in it. He took the jug from her hand and murmured, “I can do it myself, Mom.”
“Of course you can, darling,” she said, totally unfazed, “but you’re a hero, and I intend to make you feel like one.”
Carly noticed that her own sons, sitting across the table from them, were transfixed by the exchange. To diffuse their interest, she said, “I don’t believe you’ve been properly introduced to my children. The one who caused you so much trouble yesterday is Alex and the one beside him who’s eating as if he hasn’t been fed in a week is Jake. My daughter is Madeleine. And this little guy,” she said, indicating her youngest, sitting on her lap, “is Charlie.”
Charlie, far from being grateful to his savior, chose that moment to flick a spoonful of oatmeal at Adam. Then he laughed.
TO HIS CREDIT, ADAM didn’t leap from his seat or demand an apology. Instead, he wiped the oatmeal from his cheek with his finger, then wiped his finger on his napkin. “It’s gratifying to be reminded of what the public thinks of we who serve them,” he said, and dug into his eggs.
Will patted him gently on the back. “That’s the spirit, buddy. Nothing like some creative criticism to bring you back to earth. Can’t have you walking around the ranch with a head bigger than a black Angus bull.”
Luke laughed from where he stood beside the kitchen range and raised his coffee mug in agreement.
Carly liked the oldest of the O’Malley brothers. Hey, she liked them all. She was trying to like Adam, too, but he wasn’t exactly making it easy for her. What’s his problem? she wondered.
He was eating in silence. Probably trying to ignore her. Well, that was fine because she didn’t want to make conversation with him, either.
She sipped her coffee, savoring the richness of the blend—a far cry from the budget brand she usually drank. Various conversations flowed around the kitchen and she caught snippets of them and smiled. Maddy and Celeste seemed to have hit it off. They were both in first grade but in different classes and hadn’t met each other before. Carly liked Celeste. She was an angelic-looking child with a sweet temperament and outgoing personality. Maddy was more withdrawn, but Celeste seemed to have struck a chord with her as they shared a love of drawing. The pair were presently giggling over pictures they’d drawn of Adam.
Carly wanted to see how he’d react to them and asked, “What have you got there, Maddy?”
Her daughter held up the picture. She’d given Adam curly, dark brown hair and a smiley face. Carly glanced at Adam. His hair was indeed dark brown, but cut so short, it was hard to determine if there was any curl in it.
Then Celeste held up her picture. She’d given Adam even curlier and longer hair. The child apparently knew her uncle well enough to have done that. However, instead of a smiley face, Adam’s expression was angry.
“Why did you draw your uncle looking so annoyed?” she asked Celeste.
“He’s not. He’s thinking,” the child corrected her. “He frowns when he thinks. Like he is now.” Celeste indicated her uncle with a flick of her head, bit into a bagel her father had smeared with cream cheese and honey and went back to her drawing.
An odd combination, Carly thought as Celeste wolfed it down. She turned to Adam. Sure enough, he was frowning. But he was miles away and not part of the conversation, nor had he seemed to notice the girls’ drawings of him.
“A penny for them,” she ventured, wanting to make friends with the man who’d saved her son’s life.
“What?” he said, coming out of his reverie.
“You were deep in thought,” she said. “If your back is bothering you, I’d be happy to give you a massage. It’s the least I can do.”
He put down his coffee cup and looked at her. “Thank you, but no.” He stood. “I have to be going. There’ll be a disciplinary meeting because I ignored my chief’s orders,” he said to the room’s occupants.
“And saved Molly,” Carly finished for him, knowing he’d never say the words himself. “I hope you don’t get into too much trouble. If there’s anything I can say to whoever you have to answer to, I will. I’ll testify that Alex would have run into that building to get her if you hadn’t.”
“I doubt a kid would be any match for a firefighter,” he said, his voice sardonic, then abruptly left the kitchen.
The rest of the adults had taken their seats at the table and were looking at her.
“I … I’m sorry, I don’t know what I said to make him leave like that.”
Sarah leaned over and touched her hand. “Don’t pay any attention to him, dear.”
She didn’t go on to excuse his behavior or explain it, so Carly busied herself with clearing the table. “I wanted to thank you again … for welcoming my children and me into your home.” Carly could feel her voice breaking, but she continued, hoping to find the strength she needed.