First Class Rescue (First Class Novels) Page 3

  Beth Collins was an editor for a small publishing house. Her parents desperately wanted her to return to England, but she loved her job and she loved New York City. She would never consider herself American, but she did consider New York her home now and she planned on staying much to the chagrin of her family.

  Her older brother Rupert had offered to come and help her move back after her younger sister, Emma, had told him about the fire.

  “I’m not leaving!” she’d stated for the umpteenth time. “This is my home and I’m happy here.”

  Her family had expected her to return to the family estate after she’d ended her engagement to Edward three years ago. He had been her English Literature professor at Columbia. After the semester had ended, they began seeing each other, initially drawn together by the nature of them both being English, both coming from wealthy families with a long and notable genealogy. They’d gotten engaged a couple of years later and that had thrilled her parents. In their eyes, he was quite a catch. Edward thought he was quite a catch too and continued trying to impress his students long after he’d proposed to Beth. She’d found him having sex with one of his all-too-willing students in his office and was secretly relieved.

  Edward was her parents’ idea of her ideal mate, and on paper, he was hers too. But it never really clicked…on any level. They had different political opinions, they hadn’t been able to agree on having children – Beth wanted them, Edward didn’t, or said he wasn’t “sure.” Beth loved trying the ethnic restaurants that made Manhattan as diverse as it was. Edward liked roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and Beth did too. She just liked to try other things, new things, as well.

  He was a slob and that grated on her nerves like fingernails down a chalk board. Just like Beth, he’d grown up with staff that took care of the house and the children. He’d never picked up his dirty underwear until he stayed over at Beth’s apartment a few times. She refused to do it and they sat there for seven days before he finally got the hint.

  “Why don’t you get a housekeeper?” he’d sneered when he finally sacrificed his pride and picked up his briefs.

  “Because I don’t need one!” she’d replied.

  And then there was their physical relationship. He was a selfish lover. If she had managed to orgasm before he did, she doubted he would have minded, but he wasn’t willing to wait for her and he didn’t go out of his way to “help” her, so she had been left unsatisfied…for years.

  Yes. Beth was relieved to find him with his trousers around his ankles shagging a blonde nineteen year old. It made it a whole lot easier to leave the engagement ring on his desk and walk out, leaving the door wide open for every passersby to have a good look, and telling her parents he was a cheating bastard meant they couldn’t blame her for ending the engagement. She was actually grateful he couldn’t keep it in his pants. She was much happier without him.

  But she didn’t go home. She didn’t pack up and head back to the Collins’ sprawling estate southwest of London. She didn’t go back to the smothering of her mother and her father who just wanted her to “find a good chap”. She stayed in New York and was promoted to an Editor. She loved her job and she wasn’t leaving it. She settled into the corner of the sofa, a new manuscript in hand, and began reading.

  3.

  A couple of weeks had passed since Beth Collins had visited the firehouse. Tim had had a hard time getting her scent out of his nose and her voice out of his dreams. He remembered Janie saying how much she liked the James Bond movies. When Tim and his brothers agreed they were fantastic, she had clarified it was because of 007’s voice that she watched the films with Matt. Apparently she preferred listening to the movies over watching them.

  Beth Collins’ voice reverberated through his brain all day long and all through his dreams and even though she was easy to look at, it was her voice that kept him awake or woke him up with a massive hard-on. He hadn’t understood Janie’s comment until now.

  He’d been working the 7pm to 9am shift for the past week and amazingly, they’d only had one call out the previous evening. He’d slept seven hours and felt refreshed as he got ready to head home. He closed his locker and stopped by the desk in his office to check his email once more. As he clicked the mouse on the browser icon, the alarm sounded, followed by a code that immediately sent his heart racing. Big fire! Several units responding! Not going home! He ran to the pole, dropped to the lower level, dressed in his response gear and jumped on the truck, praying that it wasn’t going to be as serious as it sounded.

  Pulling up to the fire, the adrenaline pumped through Tim’s body. It was a huge fire, and fire engines and trucks continued to arrive well after Tim and his team had received their orders and began positioning the ladder to get to the upper floors of the building.

  Hysterical crying and wailing was all around him as the tenants were being led away from the smoke and firemen began exiting the building with bodies over their shoulders. Tim knew they must get into the building fast. The fire was spreading quickly, despite the best efforts of the fire department, and if there were people still inside, they didn’t have much longer before it would be a recovery effort rather than a rescue.

  Tim and Jeff were the first ones to enter through the window on the sixth floor. It was the highest they could go. There was fire beneath them and fire above them, so they knew they needed to move quickly. The smoke, however, was thick and black and the men had to move slowly and carefully, feeling their way through the darkness.

  They called out, hoping that if there was anyone trapped inside they’d be heard and could yell for help, but the fire fighters’ calls went unanswered. Radio communication informed them that the firefighters above them were being called out…it was too dangerous on the upper floors. After several minutes, Tim radioed to the Captain that they had not located anyone and that the fire was now spreading through the floor. They were retreating.

  Climbing back out onto the ladder, Tim knew that the building in all likelihood could not be saved. As he backed his way down the ladder, he watched as some of the hoses were being directed to the adjacent buildings, attempting to keep the fire from destroying any other structures. He felt helpless and frustrated that more couldn’t be done. He heard the call over the radio. All personnel were to exit the building. They would fight the fire from outside; hoses on the ground and hoses from the bucket ladders at the rear of the building where the fire had apparently started. As Tim ran to Engine 24, the hoses snaked and crisscrossed in front of him, trying to shoot water from every angle. For minutes he watched as his brothers from many firehouses worked together to save the fifteen story apartment building until they discovered the unthinkable. There were two firefighters missing. They’d gone into the building but hadn’t exited.

  Tim’s job at this point was to support Engine 24; run hose, adjust valves. Engine 57 sent two men in to assess the first floor. If it was safe they would venture up one floor. If it wasn’t safe, they would retreat immediately. All communication over the radio went silent as they waited for word of the condition of the ground floor. Seconds turned to minutes and the men tried to focus on their current assignment. No word was neither good nor bad, and Tim’s heart beat faster as the minutes continued to drag.

  Movement to his left caught his eye, and as he turned his head the two firemen came back out of the building. The word on the radio was that they couldn’t get up to the next level as the stairwell was blocked with burning debris at the exit to the second floor. Tim’s heart dropped to his stomach and the wave of nausea rose through his body. Somehow over the years, he’d learned to squash the feeling and focus on his job and this was no different. As he pulled on another hose a voice came over the radio.

  “Fourth floor, west side.”

  The fire department flew into action. It would take too long to get the ladder truck in position, so Tim ran to help position ladders against the brick exterior. Engine 57 had their men ready to climb in a second and they were up and on their way.
Breaking a window, the first firefighter climbed inside and in a few moments radioed that he had the two missing men in his grasp. One was conscious, the other not.

  Over the next several minutes the rescue of the two men became the number one priority. Using ropes and pulleys they lowered the unconscious firefighter out of the window and to the ground, where the waiting EMS had him on a gurney and rushing him to the ambulance. Then, carefully, the firefighters climbed out of the window and down the ladder to the safety of the ground to the cheers of all who looked on.

  A beam had dropped on them and had knocked them out, one only temporarily. As soon as he had come to, he’d managed to pull his partner from under the massive piece of wood and radioed for help. Unfortunately, it was one of the many real hazards of the job, but the relief was short-lived as the word spread that the unconscious firefighter, Daniel, was in critical condition. The sirens began and the ambulance left for the nearest trauma center.

  The firemen continued to battle the blaze in mostly silence.

  *****

  Eight hours of trying to outsmart the fire finally paid off and the flames were out. New York City’s bravest had saved the surrounding buildings, but the one where it had started was all but gone. It would be condemned and what was left standing would be torn down. It was always difficult when they lost a battle, but that’s not what was on their minds. As Ladder 5 reversed into its parked position in the garage, the worst news possible came to the station. Daniel hadn’t made it.

  Tim and Daniel Welch had gone through training together. They’d had a drink together after work on several occasions. Daniel was a little older than Tim and was married. He had two sons and his wife was pregnant with a daughter, due to be born in three weeks. As the news sunk in, Tim became nauseated. Once off the truck and out of his boots and jacket, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called his parents. The news would report that a firefighter had died and he made sure his parents would know it wasn’t him.

  They weren’t home so he left a brief message and replaced his phone in his pocket. His team all worked in silence. They hauled the miles of wet hoses to the drying racks and put dry ones on the fire engine. They cleaned and tidied the inside of the ladder truck and hooked up the exhaust hoses and the engine warmers. Everyone did their jobs without speaking, and barely made eye contact. When there wasn’t any other reason for them to stay downstairs, one by one they went up to the family room of the firehouse.

  Tim headed straight for the shower and washed the soot and grime away. He watched the shampoo suds circle around the drain and eventually disappearing into the floor. The hot water continued to fall and he leaned against the white tiled wall while the water cascaded over his head, flattening his hair to his scalp. He didn’t have the energy or the desire to move. His body was exhausted and his emotions were too raw to deal with right then. Eventually, he turned off the water and dried himself with a fluffy white towel. Wrapping it around his hips he stepped from the stall and brushed his teeth and his hair. He needed to get it together. As an officer he was in charge of his team. Several of them had been called in to help battle the blaze, and it was his responsibility to make sure everyone was dealing with the loss of their brother. This is when he needed to stand tall and be a leader. This is what separated the leaders from the men. He dressed in khakis and a FDNY t-shirt and gathered his team.

  *****

  He had a few hours before he had to be back at work to start his shift, so Tim called his older brother Paul and his wife Nic and invited himself over for dinner. They were only too happy to have him.

  “We saw it on the news,” Nic frowned. “It looked terrible.”

  “It was,” Tim agreed, putting down his knife and fork.

  “I’m so sorry,” Paul said. “I understand what you are going through.”

  Tim nodded. “I know you do. Thanks.”

  Paul had served his country honorably as a Navy Seal for eleven years before finding his soul mate in Nic and leaving the military and settling down in marital bliss. They were expecting their first baby in just a few weeks.

  “I knew him…pretty well…but I hadn’t seen him in a couple of years. But even so, it’s really hard.” Tim picked up his glass and took a drink of his ice water.

  “Of course it is,” Nic sighed. “I’m glad you called. You know you can come here anytime.”

  “Thanks,” he managed a weak smile. “I guess I’m not really hungry. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Paul smiled as he took the half eaten piece of rib-eye steak from Tim’s plate. “We’re eating for two you know.”

  Tim chuckled. “You’re eating for two?”

  “Yes he is!” Nic laughed. “And every morning he complains that he has to run an extra couple of miles because he’s gained a pound…or two.” She stood and gathered up hers and Tim’s plates and took them into the kitchen.

  Paul grinned at his wife’s back as she left the room. “Love her!” he grinned.

  Tim smiled at his brother and was pleased he had found Nic. She was a wonderful addition to the Lathem family. Now all of the brothers except him and Ben were attached. David’s wedding to Lindsey was two weeks away and the family loved her, too. Tim heard his coworkers talk about the woes of in-laws and Tim couldn’t understand what they were going on about. He had one brother-in-law, and three, almost four sisters-in-law and he adored every one of them. It had been a good idea to spend a couple of hours with Paul and Nic. He was emotionally buoyed and ready to deal with the members of his team again, but it was going to be a hard few weeks.

  *****

  Back at the firehouse, his team of seven arrived ready to start their ten-hour shift. They had all spent the evening with family and a somber mood enveloped the station.

  It had been almost a year since they lost an FDNY brother, and he had died of a heart attack, not in a burning building. Not that it made it easier or harder…it was just different.

  “A fund has started for the family,” Tim informed the men. “As you know, Daniel has two boys and his wife is pregnant. It’s gonna be hard for them, so anything you can do is appreciated.” He threw a couple of water bottles from the fridge to waiting hands, and as he unscrewed the top of his bottle he thought that he should talk to Matt. His company would donate to the fund, of that he was sure, and Matt’s donation could make an enormous difference in Daniel’s family’s financial security. He would call him tomorrow.

  A couple of the guys started reminiscing about Daniel when he was a Probie. Being on probation the first few months could be difficult. The teasing, and mostly good-natured torture, could get to you after a while though, but Daniel had been a bit older and a little more mature and had taken it like a man. For the last few years he had taken it upon himself to take the Probies under his wing and act as an unofficial mentor and somewhat of a guardian. He was widely respected among the FDNY and the department had lost a great man.

  The reminiscing was interrupted by a call. The men sprang into action and within just a couple of minutes were responding just a few blocks away. A mother had called 911 hysterical that her daughter had locked herself in the bathroom and was unable to get out. Calmly, Tim assessed the situation, and within just a couple of minutes he and Jeff had removed the hinges of the door and reunited the mother with her five year old daughter, Madelyn. With smiles and gratitude, the woman said goodbye to the firemen and put her sleepy and unaffected daughter back to bed.

  It was exactly the kind of call that was needed for his team. Something simple with a happy child rescued and a grateful mother who had complete confidence in them. Hopefully they would start to heal from their loss and with each call out that ended happily, they took one step closer.

  4.

  Beth’s routine was pretty much the same week after week. She went in to the office a couple of times a week to drop off read manuscripts and pick up new ones. She had a fulltime assistant that she communicated with by phone and email. She was grateful that she was able to
work mostly from home. Since the majority of her work load was reading, it was much more comfortable to do it in the confines of her apartment and of course, there was Cleo. Beth hated leaving her alone for long periods of time. If truth be told, Cleo was probably fine with it…it was Beth that suffered from separation anxiety.

  Right after she’d broken off her engagement with Edward, she’d had a client, a writer, who had decided that in order to write the best-seller he knew was inside him just waiting to be written he needed to go to Africa, the land of his ancestors. He begged her to help him find a home for his six month old puppy, Cleopatra. Beth had been less than eager to become a dog broker, but once she’d met Cleopatra, she knew she’d found her best friend. Her client had told her it was meant to be and gladly handed over her leash and half a bag of dog food to Beth and booked a flight to Johannesburg to begin his ‘self-discovery’ tour.

  Cleopatra soon became Cleo and they had bonded immediately. Growing up in England, her family had Corgis and Beagles, her mother had said they were the dogs of the upper class. Beth loved the dogs and spent hours playing fetch and running the fields with them. Living in New York with a German Shepherd was quite different but they were making it work.

  Beth ran with Cleo several times a week and her neighbors across the hall loved to borrow Cleo for their walks. Jerry and Vince said it made them feel safer having Cleo with them and she knew Cleo loved the attention they lavished on her and the box of treats they kept on top of the fridge especially for her. They lived in a safe neighborhood, but Beth understood that Jerry and Vince, now in their sixties, hadn’t always enjoyed the tolerance and acceptance most gay couples now had. So loaning Cleo to them was perfectly fine with her, in fact, she knew Cleo loved them as much as they loved her. But they’d been in Miami for the past couple of weeks. They left after the fire seeing as though they couldn’t get back into their apartment anyway. They’d suffered more water damage than Beth and it had taken a few more days for them to be able to return. They’d gotten back the night before so when there was a knock on the door, Beth smiled to herself knowing they were back and ready to see their girl.