Grant looked at him and then at Gavin. “First one to take him to the ice gets a free beer next time we hit Kincaid’s.”
He snorted. “You recognize the irony in that, right? Since it’s his family’s bar?”
“Just makes it all the sweeter.”
“You’re on.”
Chapter Sixteen
Cait wasn’t accustomed to having company for her first cup of coffee in the morning, since she got up earlier than her mom and her brother, but on Friday Carter had a meeting with his guidance counselor before school started. He was bleary-eyed and clearly unhappy to be awake, but he still managed a quick smile when he saw her.
“I can’t believe you get up this early every day.”
“Do well in school and go to college, and maybe you can get some fancy office job with bankers’ hours.”
“Ha ha.” He grabbed a soda from the fridge and popped the tab while Cait winced. The only thing worse than liquid sugar in the morning was carbonated liquid sugar. “Hey, there was a fire on the news when I walked by the TV.”
Frowning, she took her coffee and went to sit on the couch. She set her mug down to pick up the remote control since she always turned the volume down to a murmur in the morning.
“Crews are still battling an early-morning fire at this hour,” the news anchor announced, before they cut back to the live scene.
It was a massive fire, and it looked like it had originated in one triple-decker before jumping to the one next door. The middle of the night and early-morning hours were the worst time for residential fires, she thought sadly. Most families were sound asleep when they started.
“Do you think Gavin’s there?” Carter asked, startling her. She hadn’t realized he was standing behind the couch, and she turned sideways so she could see both him and the television screen.
“He’s there.” She didn’t need to seek out the information or try to see the numbers on the apparatus on the screen. She knew he was on shift, she knew the building’s location and she could see the scope of the response. Engine 59 and Ladder 37 would be on scene.
“It looks dangerous.”
She heard the underlying tension in his voice and it pretty much matched the tension she herself was feeling. She probably would have changed the channel if she was alone in an attempt to fool herself into thinking she’d stop worrying, but Carter’s gaze was so glued to the screen, she wasn’t even sure he’d blinked.
“I know it looks like chaos,” she said, “but it’s actually very organized. There’s a guy in the command area who has a magnet board where all the trucks and firefighters are accounted for. And they’re all very well trained.”
“But things go wrong.”
Cait didn’t want to talk about that. Just the thought of something going sideways twisted her stomach into knots and made her throat ache. But just the fact Carter was so intent on the screen and the conversation—phone forgotten next to him—told her how much he cared and she didn’t want to discount that.
“Sometimes, but not often. You hear more about the few times it turns ugly than you do the thousands of times it doesn’t. There’s a lot of experience and training on that scene. And if they think it’s unsafe, they’ll pull everybody out.”
Carter only nodded, and then Cait watched him tilt his head, craning his neck as if he could see around the news anchor to identify the firefighters in the background. It was sweet and she found herself smiling at the back of her brother’s head.
She’d done enough fire standbys so she could make sense of what she was seeing, but she had to admit this time was different. The worry she usually felt for the first responders—many of whom she knew on at least a passing basis—was amped up and, like her brother, she couldn’t stop herself from trying to pick Gavin out of the crowd.
Then a new camera view picked up Ladder 37. She didn’t need a close-up to know it was Gavin at the top of the ladder. She just knew.
A woman and a little girl were in the window, screaming as the flames closed in on them. The ladder was moving and she could see Gavin yelling to them and see his body language. She didn’t need audio to know he was telling her it was okay. That he’d get them.
The woman shifted the girl in her arms and Cait knew she was going to throw the child to Gavin.
“Jesus,” she whispered as her stomach knotted.
The camera cut away, going back to the front of the scene. Cait didn’t move—she couldn’t move—as she realized the emotional toll it would take on Gavin if the mother threw the little girl and he didn’t catch her.
“Cait?”
“You need to get to school,” she said, more sharply than she intended.
“Are you okay?”
