America's Bravest (21 page)

“Repeat, Rescue 7 firefighters check in with
me
now
.”

“I’m okay, Lieutenant.” Another female voice
came over the radio. Rookie Sydney Sands sounded hoarse but
alive.

Felicia barked, “Everybody else?”

“Ramirez here. I’m good. What about O’Malley
and Hutch?” Jim Hutchinson was the sub in for Gabe Malvaso
today.

Coughing over the lines, then Hutch managed
to say, “I’m alive. My arm hurts like a bitch, though.”

“O’Malley can tend to you. O’Malley, report
in.”

No response. “Brody, answer me. Are you
hurt?”

Nothing. “Anyone who can move, start looking
around.” Which would be harder for her because the light on her
helmet had gone off when she hit the ground, though the smoke was
abating. Had the Quint guys ventilated? “Anybody got light?”

“I do,” Sands responded.

Blinking, Felicia could see outlines. Rows of
shelves had toppled over scattering hundreds of books everywhere.
She began to crawl, feeling in front and to the side of her.
Thankfully, gloves protected her from the junk, some of which was
jagged.

“Can’t find anything, Licia.” Sands’ now
anxious voice broke the silence.

“
Nada
.” This from Ramirez.

Felicia dragged herself closer to the pile of
debris and managed to stand. She was still light-headed and
disoriented. Smoke vanished by the minute, though, and her vision
was better. She scanned the rubble before her. A few feet away, her
gaze landed on an arm sticking out from under a fallen shelf and a
pile of books.

She’d found O’Malley.

oOo

No use in panicking. Been here, done
this
.

Despite what he told himself, Ryan O’Malley’s
pulse was triple timing and his throat had gone dry. Not even an
hour ago, he’d gotten a weird sense of foreboding and then a
shooting pain through his back so he knew immediately his twin
brother was in trouble. Ten minutes later Mitch Malvaso called
saying that Brody had been hurt. A second update reported that his
twin was at Hidden Cove Hospital. On his way over, Ryan phoned Emma
Walsh, the woman Brody was head over heels for, and told her to
meet him here. As he strode through the ER doors, he prayed Brody
was okay. Anything else was unthinkable. He found the Rescue 7 crew
hovering at the door to the treatment area. Ramirez approached him
first and clapped him on the shoulder. “We don’t know anything,
Rye. He wasn’t conscious when the ambulance took him from the
site.”

Ryan spotted Felicia White heading toward
him. Tall and lithe, her long stride was purposeful. Her expression
was soft in a way he hadn’t seen before, maybe because her brown
hair was down around her smudged face. “I’m sorry, Ryan, we’re
still waiting. We didn’t get here much sooner than you.” Their
clothes and the dirt that clung to them confirmed they’d come right
from the scene of the fire. Its stink gave the hospital smell
competition.

Swallowing hard, Ryan nodded. Usually he gave
the woman a hard time, but he couldn’t think about anything but his
brother. “What happened?”

Felicia looked over his shoulder. “Here’s
Emma. I’ll tell you together.”

Brody’s woman walked quickly over to them,
her face pale but her chin up. She was tough in ways you’d never
guess from her girlish freckles, short hair cut and slim build. “Is
he all right?”

“We don’t know any more than I told Ryan on
the phone, Emma.” This from Felicia. “I was about to fill him in on
what happened. Let’s sit.”

Ryan shook his head and slid his arm around
Emma. “No, I wanna know how he got hurt right now.”

Felicia gave them a brief rundown. “It
happens like that a lot. You get hurt when you never expect it.”
Not too long ago, Ryan had been the victim of gunshot wound from
gang members free basing in the cellar of a building which caught
on fire.

Emma leaned on him. “We have to have faith
he’ll be fine. Maybe we
should
sit.”

The two of them broke off from the others,
crossed the room and dropped down onto a double seater. Emma said,
“We were here for you last fall.”

Six months ago. “I know. Bad karma.”

“Brody and I talked a lot about safety since
then. How firefighters do everything they can to protect
themselves. He promised me no more heroics.”

“I’m glad. This was probably a freak
accident.” He took her hand. “It’ll be okay, Emmy. I feel it.”

An hour later, a doctor came out; Ryan knew
Laura Spencer from police work he’d done here. She headed toward
him and Emma. “Hi, Ryan. He’s okay. Nothing broken. A concussion,
bruised back, other lacerations. But he’ll be fine.”

“Thank God.” Emma sagged in to Ryan’s
arms.

“Two of you can go together,” Laura told
them.

Ryan looked to the crew, who’d gathered
around the doctor. “Emma and me first, okay?”

“Of course.” Felicia had stepped back and her
face was blank. Must be her reserve returned now that the crisis
was over.

Giving them a weak smile, Emma said, “I’ll
come out soon so one of you can go in.”

Ryan scowled. “I’m not leaving his side.”

A flicker of irritation crossed the
lieutenant’s face but she said nothing.

Ramirez clapped him on the back. “We know you
gotta stay with him, Rye.”

Sands nodded and took a seat. Gabe Malvaso
was missing, but Ryan didn’t take the time to ask about him.
Instead, he grabbed Emma’s hand and they hurried back to the
treatment area.

They found Brody half-lying, half-sitting on
a bed in a curtained-off area. Someone had made a cursory attempt
to clean him up and his face was blotched with bruises. A stark
white bandage slanted over one temple and another covered his hand.
His eyes lit when he saw Emma come into the room. “I’m good,
honey,” he said even before she reached him.

With a phony smile pasted on her lips, she
crossed to one side of the bed, Ryan to the other. Emma grasped
Brody’s un-bandaged hand. “I know. The doctor told us.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, either.”

She swiped at his hair, still sprinkled with
soot. “I know, love. You got knocked down by Proust and Albee and
Shakespeare.”

He laughed. Ryan did not. Adrenaline fading,
he was still shaky and in no mood for jokes.

Glancing at him, Brody shook his head. “Shit,
Emmy’s doing better than you.”

For once, Ryan didn’t have a rejoinder. He
took a breath and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Immediately Brody covered it, catching on to
Ryan’s state of mind. “Hey, buddy, I’m all right. Get rid of the
grim look.”

Emma looked askance. “This from the guy who
cried in my arms when Ryan got hurt.”

“He was worse off than me.” Brody’s eyes
darkened. “Wasn’t he?”

Finally, Ryan found his voice. “Yeah. You
know me…with, um, you.”

Brody gave him their twin smile, the one of
understanding that often passed between them. “Sit, Rye.”

Both he and Emma took chairs. Brody continued
to hold Emma’s hand and Ryan found himself jealous. Not because he
was envious of their closeness—he wanted the best for his brother.
And he never believed he’d feel this way, but lately, Ryan wished
for the same kind of relationship Brody had with a woman of his own
woman.

It was a longing he hadn’t gotten used to
yet.

And, truth be told, didn’t like too much.

oOo

Cool and collected, Felicia entered Brody’s
hospital room with a smile on her face. Emma had come out to fetch
for coffee for her and Ryan and she’d told Felicia to go in for a
while. Emma would make a good firefighter’s wife, as she seemed to
accept Brody’s closeness to his brother and sister smoke
eaters.

Felicia stopped in the doorway. Brody lay in
bed, bruised but not too badly. He and Ryan looked more alike than
usual. Heads bend, she could see Ryan’s hair was a little darker,
his features sharper. Brody had turned toward his twin and they
were holding hands and speaking quietly to each other. The scene
was touching, and she felt an unwanted spurt of sympathy for Ryan.
“Am I interrupting a private moment?” she asked wryly.

Ryan looked up with blue eyes lighter than
Brody’s. His cop’s uniform heightened their color. He was a
sergeant on the force, so he could wear a suit to work, but Brody
said he preferred department blues. He trained new officers in
field work and also took on special projects for the police.

Brody said, “Hey, Licia.” Smoke had made him
sound like a two-pack-a-dayer.

Smiling, she walked toward him and dropped
down in the empty chair. “I imagine you feel like shit.”

“Like a ton of
books
fell on me.” He
frowned. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. We’d gotten halfway across the
classics’ room when an explosion went off somewhere near us. The
shelving and books toppled, along with some of the ceiling. It took
us a few minutes to find you.” Felicia shivered with remembered
fear.

“Everybody else okay?”

“All our guys are fine. But Hutch broke his
arm.”

“Shit, and he was doing Gabe a favor when he
agreed to sub at the last minute so Gabe could go with Rachel to
her parents’ party.”

Felicia stiffened. Not everybody accepted the
romance between their captain and Rachel Wellington, who was forced
to transfer to another group when the two of them fell in love.
Most of the women in the department were concerned that the
match-up would taint the reputation of females as serious and equal
firefighters. Felicia told Rachel she herself agreed that hooking
up with her officer was a foolish move. Rachel brusquely commented
that Felicia must not ever have been in love if she could be so
narrowed minded about what had happened. The encounter had been
unpleasant and they’d been only civil to each other when forced to
be together.

Ryan’s phone rang. He let it go.

“Might as well get it now,” Brody teased with
a smile. “They’ll just keep calling.”

The cop rolled his eyes.

“Who?” Felicia asked.

“One of the many women after him. Let’s see,
I bet Buffy. Or maybe Mitzy.”

Felicia snorted. “They sound like
teenagers.”

Ryan had no comment. Hell, the guy must be
really was worried. Finally, he answered the nagging tones. “Hi.
No, we’re not on tonight. My brother got hurt. I’ll call you
tomorrow.” And he clicked off.

“Brody ruin your date?” Felicia always felt
the urge to needle this guy and now they knew Brody was okay, she
could do it. She didn’t like him for a lot of reasons, one being
his Rule of Six philosophy, which she thought demeaned women. No
date went over six hours, six days was a limit for girls he only
wanted screw, six weeks for somebody he liked and no one after six
months. Brody had been joking about it to Tony Ramirez and she
overheard the conversation.

“No big.” He looked at his brother. “You
comfortable? Can I get you another pillow?”

“You can get me out of here.”

“No, he can’t.” The same doctor who’d come
out to the foyer was standing in the doorway. “You have to stay
overnight, Brody.”

Brody began to whine.

“Shut up,” Ryan said harshly. Felicia rarely
heard cross words between the two of them. “You need observation!
You have a concussion!”

Brody and Felicia, who talked a lot,
exchanged glances.

“Okay, Rye.” Brody squeezed his brother’s
arm. “Get a grip, though.”

The doctor checked Brody’s chart. “We’re
putting you in a room because the ER’s unusually busy.”

“I’ll sleep all night in the chair.”

Brody didn’t argue with his brother this
time. Neither did Dr. Laura. She obviously knew the two of
them.

And again, Felicia didn’t tease Ryan. The guy
was obviously overwrought about his twin’s accident. It made her
look at him differently.

When she got up to leave a few minutes later
so someone else on their squad could come in, she was bemused. She
couldn’t think of another person in the world she felt as strongly
about as these twins did for each other. And she had a brother,
Garth, but rarely saw him.

The notion made her oddly sad.

Brody was put in a room around nine, three
hours after the fire broke out. His group had gone back to the
firehouse to shower, then returned to the hospital and came up
together, visited and finally, on Brody’s orders, left to go home.
Of course Emma stayed behind.

Darkness had fallen and they’d put the lights
low but Ryan could see his brother brush his fingers down Emma’s
cheek. “You should go home, too, sweetheart.”

Lines had etched around Emma’s mouth. “I took
tomorrow off so I’m fine.”

“You’re exhausted.” He cupped her jaw.
“Please, get some rest.”

Feeling like an interloper, Ryan stood. “I’m
going to get something to eat. How much time alone do you two want
alone?”

Brody shrugged. “A half hour would be
good.”

Giving them a sham frown, he snorted. “No
hanky-panky in here.”

“He’s not up for that,” Emma said
innocently.

Both men chuckled.

Ryan commented, “I won’t even go there.”

Once in the hallway, he saw that the hospital
corridor had quieted down and only the low murmur of the nurses and
some custodians filled the silence. The place still smelled like
antiseptic, but the muted atmosphere was soothing. Noting the signs
for the cafeteria—he hadn’t left Brody’s side all day and suddenly
was starved—Ryan headed down to get some chow. Adrenaline had long
since drained from his body and he knew the effects of the plummet.
His shoulders ached and his head started to hurt. He needed
food.

After he bought a BLT, French fries and coke
from the serving line, Ryan looked for a table. He scanned the
eating area, empty except for a few scattered medical personnel. As
he headed for a spot, he noticed a woman at a table in the corner,
working on her laptop. Huh, Felicia White. Why the hell was she
still here? Then he remembered—she’d waited with Brody when Ryan
was hurt. He crossed to her.