Daring Devotion

He closed his eyes and thanked God for another miracle, the latest in a long line. His mind went to Andrea. He desperately needed to see her, to hold her, to know that she was real because that would mean that he was real. That he was still alive in all the ways that mattered.

Chapter 3

“Cal.” Andrea scooted up on her knees to use her full strength to rock the man beside her as he thrashed about wildly on the bed. “Cal!” She ducked, barely missing a swinging arm. “Cal! Wake up!” She pushed hard against his tense form. “Wake up!”

Large eyes opened in bewilderment. “What?” Cold brown eyes turned to her and the lack of recognition sent a chill down her spine.

“It was a nightmare.” She rubbed her hand along his jawbone. “You were having another nightmare.”

He looked in every direction seemingly surprised to find himself in her bed. Finally his troubled eyes settled on her again just before he ran his large hand over his face.

It had been almost a month since the fire in the Hadley building, and something deep inside of Cal had changed. Andrea sensed it and saw it in his behavior. In the past few days, Andrea had seen something she thought she would never see. Her fearless man had become hesitant.

Andrea had met Cal over a year ago, although she remembered it like yesterday. He’d come to visit Marty in the hospital where she was recovering from smoke inhalation. From the moment Andrea saw him, Cal had exuded a kind of larger-than-life confidence, and being the self-doubting person that she was, Andrea had been drawn to that self-assuredness. She’d known instinctively that he was everything she’d never known she needed, water to her parched soul.

Over the past year, they’d struggled to find their way through the complex maze of contemporary relationships and had seemingly come to the inevitable conclusion that they belonged together.

When Cal had proposed almost six months ago, her instant answer had been yes. And on that day something strange had happened to Andrea. Something that she was finding harder and harder to deal with. For the first time, she began to contemplate what it meant to be the wife of a firefighter. What she’d discovered was not good.

The never-ending sense of dread. The empty feeling that settled in the pit of her stomach every time he began a seventy-two-hour rotation. The feeling would not go away until he returned to her after a call, safe and sound. And the apprehension had not stopped there. It followed her to work where, as a nurse in the emergency ward, she became more aware of the number of firefighters that came through the E.R.

And on one horrible day, less than a month ago, she’d had her worst fears confirmed when she looked down at the gurney and saw that Cal was the patient. But something strange and wonderful had come out of the experience, something Andrea could not share with anyone, not even Cal. Something she was ashamed to admit gave her such pleasure. Cal had lost his sense of invincibility.

She could remember any number of times she’d been in the firehouse when the emergency call came in and Cal would take off with a sexy grin and the wink of an eye, excited and pumped for the challenge. It was all she could do to wait for him to leave before she dropped to her knees and began to pray. Cal absolutely loved fighting fire.

It was the greatest obstacle in their path and the one thing Andrea thought was unchangeable.

But since the Hadley building fire, that wickedly playful gleam had left his eyes. He’d doubled the drills for his team. He’d become careful, and Andrea knew there was nothing as dangerous as an overly cautious firefighter. Which meant…he’d have to give it up. Now, all she had to do was wait for him to realize it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked quietly, already knowing the answer before he shook his head and rolled over.

Almost every night he’d spent with her since the accident had been the same. She’d wake him in the middle of a nightmare, and he’d shrug it off as nothing, roll over and go back to sleep.

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

“About what?” he mumbled into the pillow.

“About the fire. About what really happened.”

“I told you a thousand times, baby, nothing happened.”

“Is this…” She hesitated. More than once he’d snapped at her when she attempted to ask questions regarding exactly what happened. “Because of Marco?”

Marco had recently been released from the hospital. He’d had to stay longer than Cal to have a skin graft covering a six-inch patch of burnt skin on his arm. But given what could’ve happened, Andrea thought, the boy had been incredibly blessed.

Of course, Cal had taken full responsibility for that, as well. “You saved his life, Cal, the skin graft was a small price compared to—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Andrea! You weren’t there—you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

A cold silence settled over the dark room.

Sometimes Andrea felt as if she was trying to cuddle up to a wounded bear. She sighed in defeat and turned back over to her side of the bed and snuggled under the covers.

She stared at the wall seeing right through the darkness. She studied the outline of the soft pink watercolor painting of a vase of peonies. Once again, her mind was swirling with conflicting emotions, many of which she knew she shouldn’t feel. Even in the midst of Cal’s crisis some part of her was blossoming with hope. There was no way he could go back to being a firefighter, not in his current state of mind.

And as much as Andrea hurt for him, as much as it pained her to see him in such turmoil, some part of her still preferred it to the who-gives-a-damn way of looking at the world he had before. That attitude was dangerous, reckless, and…ultimately fatal.

After several minutes, Cal turned over to spoon her. His large hand came over her hipbone and settled in the crook of her body. Although Andrea sensed the movement wasn’t meant to be arousing, she had no control over the tinkling sensation that started in her toes and worked its way up her body. It had been that way from the beginning. The most casual skim of his hand, an accidental brush of bodies and she was wired for action.

Cal was the first man she’d ever known who had that kind of effect on her senses, and in her heart she knew he would always be the only one who could.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in the dark. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.”

She sighed. “No, it’s my own fault. As many times as you’ve told me to leave it alone, you think I’d give up.”

He snuggled in closer, wrapping his large body around hers. “Don’t ever give up on me, baby. No matter how much like a jackass I behave.” He squeezed her against him so quickly and so tight Andrea could barely breath, and just as quickly he released his viselike hold. “Don’t ever give up on me.”

Andrea said nothing. His words were too close to her fretful contemplations.

Cal propped himself up on one elbow. “Look, what happened to me is nothing new, it comes with the job. The bad dreams—all that will stop eventually. It’s just that it is still fresh in my mind. I’ll be fine.”

She turned to face him. “So, it has nothing to do with feeling like you failed Marco?”

“Maybe a little. But I’ll get over that, too. I just need some time and your understanding.”

The patient look in his soft brown eyes and his gently spoken words made her brave, and Andrea decided to voice her one hope. “Cal, maybe you should give up firefigh—”

He quickly covered her lips with two fingers. “Shh, don’t even think it.” He chuckled. “Really, I’m going to be okay. Like I said before, it’s just part of the job.”

“But, Cal, if you can’t—”

Suddenly, he reached up and pulled her head down to his, covering her mouth with his own. He quickly kissed her once, just a soft peck as if exploring for her response, and it came quickly when she returned the kiss, but with more conviction.

Looking into her eyes, his full lips spread in a slow smile before his eyes closed and he kissed her again, this time with all the precision and finesse that Andrea had come to expect. Slowly, he shifted their bodies, bearing her back down into the bedding.

Andrea felt his warm, calloused hands on each of her thighs as he worked his way beneath the thin silk teddy she wore. She gave a sharp gasp, feeling his rising bulge against her thigh.

She moaned softly, feeling his hot breath on her neck and then his warm tongue as he nibbled and licked his way down her neck headed straight for her exposed cleavage.

Unable to hold back any longer, Andrea reached out, taking his head between her hands, needing to kiss him again. She needed the familiar taste of his tongue in her mouth and of their own will, her legs fell open.

Cal knew an invitation when one was extended. He lifted himself up to remove his pajama pants and Andrea immediately sat up to help work them down his hips. He chuckled at her anxiousness, and placed his hands over her trembling ones. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear.

“If you don’t slow down, this is going to be over before it begins.”

Ignoring his words, Andrea pressed her hungry mouth against his rock hard midsection, working her way up his warm, muscular chest and continued pushing the offensive pants down his legs. She desperately needed to get them off of him.

Lifting her arms, she waited impatiently for him to unsnap the teddy and pull it over her head. And then her hands were all over him again.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whined, feeling the ripple of muscles under almost every inch of skin she touched.

Cal gently pushed her back down onto the bed. “No, baby, you are the beautiful one.” Coming over her, Cal braced himself on his elbows, as his penis sought her entrance. He struggled to control his breathing, to slow himself down, but it was hard when her warm, wet opening was reaching for him, trying desperately to draw him inside her body.

Andrea felt her heart beating like crazy when the tip of his penis entered her. She parted her legs as wide as possible, wanting nothing more than for him to drive deep inside of her…when the telephone rang making both of them jump in surprise.

Ignoring it, she reached up and grabbed his hips, trying to pull him inside her before it was too late. She had a pretty good idea of who was calling. Whenever his cell phone was turned off, they called her house. Just one more reason to despise the Detroit Fire Department.

“Hurry, baby, I need you so bad,” she cried, feeling Cal hesitate.

He looked down into her needy eyes, farther down to where their bodies were almost joined, his erection standing at full tilt, then, cursing under his breath, he rolled away from her to answer the phone.

Andrea reacted without thought, slamming her fist against the pillow. “But you’re off duty!” She knew she sounded like a spoiled child, but she couldn’t help it.

“I’m the chief now, Andrea. I have to be available at all times.” He picked up the cordless phone from its base. “Hello?”

His eyes widened and his head swung around to Andrea. Sensing something was terribly wrong, Andrea sat up in the bed as Cal continued the conversation.

“Hello, Mrs. Chenault. Uh, yes, she’s here. Um, just one moment.” He covered the mouthpiece on the receiver. “I’m sorry, baby. What the hell is your mother doing calling here at two in the morning?” he whispered nervously.

Andrea subconsciously glanced at the clock as if to mentally confirm the time. There was only one reason her mother would be calling at that hour.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she accepted the phone. “Hi, Mom.”

“Andrea, I’m down at Detroit Receiving Hospital.” Margaret Chenault’s naturally soft voice was fainter than usual, and Andrea struggled to hear her. “I’m sorry to bother you like this, but do you think you can come get me?”

She was already scooting to the edge of the bed. There was no reason to ask why her mother was in the emergency room at two o’clock in the morning, she already knew.

“I’ll be right there.” A few seconds later, she hung up the phone and studiously avoided Cal’s eyes. She went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

Cal sat on the side of the bed watching her in silence. The amorous mood had completely dissipated.

Finally, when it became obvious Andrea was not going to volunteer any information, he asked the question, already knowing the answer. “He hit her again, didn’t he?”

Andrea was fully dressed and slipping her feet into a pair of sandals. “Yes.” She spoke barely above a whisper.

Instantly Cal was behind her protectively wrapping her in his arms, as if he could physically shield her from the pain. He asked another question that he already knew the answer to. “Can I come with you?”

Andrea dropped her head, and whispered, “No.”

“Why won’t you let me take care of him? Trust me, after I got through with him, he wouldn’t be hitting anybody.” He spoke with complete conviction, and Andrea believed him, which was why she refused his help.

“He’s still my father, Cal.”

Cal rested his chin on the top of her head. “Why you feel any loyalty to him is beyond me. But just so we understand each other, Andrea. If he ever lays a finger on you…all bets are off.”

She reached up and covered the strong arms that circled her body, savoring the feeling of warmth and love she knew she would need to get through the night. “Like I told you before, he’s never hit me. Just her…always her.”

“Why won’t she leave him?” he whispered in frustration.

Andrea’s mind was racing with images from her childhood and well into her adult years. So many memories, most of them not good. “When I have an answer to that question, I’ll tell you.”

Chapter 4

Three women filed into the spa for their monthly standing reservation. Even in the blue funk that Andrea had been experiencing lately, she couldn’t help but get excited about Spa Day.

As soon as they were through the door, the young lady at the counter smiled and greeted them. “Hello, ladies, your suite is ready. Just go on in and Zack will be right with you.”

Andrea followed Marty, who followed Dina through the frosted glass doors and into the long corridor that led to the client’s suites, ignoring the menacing stares of the walk-in clients who’d been waiting hours to get an appointment with the best masseur in Detroit.

The three were settled quickly into their suite by the spa staff. Their clothes had been traded for incredible soft terry robes. Each pair of tired, aching feet was luxuriating in a small whirlpool tub. They sat sipping on the fruity flavored protein drinks they’d been given to pass the time.

Although they had an appointment, they already knew they would be forced to wait, as well, but it was by choice. The spa employed eight masseurs, but unfortunately there was only one Zack, and everyone wanted him.

Spa Day usually took up all of Andrea’s monthly splurge money, but by the time Zack got through kneading and pounding her overworked muscles, somehow she just didn’t care.

Once they were well relaxed, and halfway through their protein shakes, they picked up the conversation that had started in the car.

“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous, Andrea,” Marty said. “You are about to get married—that’s a huge commitment.”

Andrea shook her head in confusion. “It’s more than just that.”

Marty just quirked an eyebrow at her friend. “You love him, right? Nothing else should matter.”

“You don’t understand, Marty,” Dina said. “You’re one of them—when the bell rings you’re on the truck, adrenaline pumping and ready for action. But those of us left behind just waiting and praying, it’s different for us. I bet Cavanaugh understands.”

“Cavanaugh is completely supportive of my career,” she lied, and the other two women just stared at her. Marty stared back, but was unable to keep a straight face. Soon all three women were laughing so loudly the receptionist in the lobby turned her head at the curious noise.

“Okay, okay, maybe he’s not completely supportive, but he understands this is something I have to do.” She pointed a thin finger at Andrea. “And this is something Cal has to do. If you love him, you have to support him.”

Andrea had only recently expressed her concerns to her girlfriends, so torn as to what course of action she should take, she felt she could use some unbiased advice. The problem was that neither of her two closest friends was unbiased.

Marty, who was herself a firefighter, saw things only from the point of view of a firefighter, and Dina, Dwight’s wife of eight years, a seasoned firefighter’s spouse, had nothing but dire warnings regarding the years ahead and often came just short of saying get-out-while-you-can.

It may all be a moot point anyway, Andrea thought, but kept her mouth sealed. These women were like the sisters she never had, but she couldn’t even confide in them about the nightmares Cal had been having. She knew if Cal found out she was spreading his business around, he would see it as nothing less than a betrayal. And of course, he would find out, considering Dina couldn’t keep a secret if you gave it to her under lock and key.

“I don’t know. It’s just some days, I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a fireman’s wife.”

“So, what are you saying? You’re going to call off the wedding?”

Andrea toyed with her ring. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Well, you better be sure before you go breaking Cal’s heart!” Marty snapped defensively.

“Marty!” Dina scowled. “It’s not like the girl don’t have enough guilt without your two cents. Look, Andrea, I understand what you are going through. I went through something similar back when Dwight and I first got married.”

“How did you get through it?”

“What are you talking about—get through? I’m still going through!” Dina half chuckled. “And I will be until he retires.” Dina reached across and touched Andrea’s hand. “Andrea…any sane woman is going to have doubts about marrying a man who wants to run into burning buildings. But despite all my fears and woes, I understood then and now that there is no one I want to grow old with more than Dwight.”

Andrea turned and looked at her. “And what if you never get a chance to grow old together?”

“That is the chance you take. If you can’t handle that you need to let him go now.”

“Look, you could marry a businessman and he gets hit crossing the street one day. Nothing in life is guaranteed.” Marty leaned forward to stress her point. “Andrea, I don’t think you realize that what we do is not just a job, it’s a calling. Honestly, I don’t know if I could do anything else, and I think I can say the same for Cal. This is in our blood—it’s a part of who we are. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, this is why I haven’t asked him to give it up for me.” Andrea, could not resist the urge to offer up a bread crumb of information, to feel them out about the fire that Cal wouldn’t talk about. “But what if…there were circumstances beyond his control? Something that forced him to give it up?”

Dina and Marty gave each other a knowing glance. “Are we talking about what happened in the Hadley building downtown about a month ago?” Dina asked.

Andrea struggled to close her mouth which had fallen open at how quickly they’d figured out her small clue.

What Andrea had not realized yet was that the members of Firehouse Fifteen were as close as a real family. And like any loving family, they tended to stay in each other’s business.

Everyone had noticed the subtle changes in Cal since the fall. It had been the talk in every home over the past few weeks. Primarily, because it was the closest that their team had come to losing one of their own in almost twenty years.

“No, no, nothing specific.” She shuddered nervously and Dina and Marty exchanged another glance.

“I was just saying, if there was some—oh, never mind!” Andrea slammed her head back against the leather chair and let out a large frustrated breath.

Marty studied her troubled face. She’d met Andrea the previous year when she’d been brought in for smoke inhalation and placed on Andrea’s ward. She’d liked the nurse right off and as they became friends, Marty soon discovered Andrea was not only kind and fun to be with, she was a lousy liar. In Marty’s estimation, those were all the traits of a good friend.

“By the way, I forgot to mention this earlier,” Dina started in an attempt to change the subject. “Did you ladies know that Dwight is supposedly planning a surprise bachelor party for Cal?”

Marty quirked an eyebrow. “So what?”

Dina’s eyes widened in amazement. “So what? Do you know what they do at those parties? Bring in a bunch of booty-shaking hoochies and get all liquored up!”

Marty settled back in her chair. “Come on, Dina, lighten up. It’s just the last hurrah before he gives up the bachelor life forever. Cut the guys some slack.” She glanced at Andrea. “Unless, you have a problem with it?”

Andrea, who’d been lost in thought, realized they were both staring at her. “What? Oh, doesn’t make me any difference,” she said with the shrug of her shoulders.

“Fine, suit yourself.” Dina twisted her mouth, realizing she would get no support for her moral outrage. “I’m just glad Dwight didn’t feel the need for such low, debasing entertainment.”

Marty snickered. “At least, none that he let you know about.”

“What are you saying—Dwight had a bachelor party without my knowledge?”

Before Marty could respond, an energetic man bounced into the room. “Hello, ladies!”

Andrea smiled in greeting, remembering the first time she’d seen Zack Aquinas, one of the most sought-after men in Detroit. Spa Day had originally been Dina’s idea, and from the way she had described the masseur, Andrea had expected him to look like something off the cover of a romance novel: tall, lean and beyond-belief gorgeous, when in truth he was a small, round man with a cherubic face. Not physically unpleasant, but certainly nothing worth throwing your panties at.

Andrea had almost laughed out loud at the comical image, until she stretched out on his table and experienced the magic for herself. The man’s hand were like living silk, and as if guided by some inner knowledge he had worked her taut shoulders and lower back until she felt like a ball of pliable rubber. After that first session, Andrea slept better than she had in years. It only took one more session to turn her into a Zack groupie.

As they followed him to the tables, Andrea found that she was relieved that Zack had arrived when he did. She was starting to regret consulting her opinionated friends; with their conflicting opinions, they’d only left her more confused than she already was. Not that any of it mattered anyway. In the end the decision would have to be hers.

Across town at the firehouse, Cal was finishing up his daily sixty-minute workout by adding another twenty-pound weight to each end of the pole and securing it in place with the locks. He glanced back at the doorway beside one of the gym equipment cabinets.

“Something on your mind, Jeff?” he asked, before shaking the light sprinkling of dust from his hands and positioning himself on the bench to lift the one hundred and fifty pounds over his chest.

Jeff Collins froze in his hiding place behind the large metal cabinet. He glanced at the opposite wall, noticing for the first time the large mirror that revealed his presence. He’d assumed Cal was too involved in his workout routine to notice anything.

Assuming what he hoped was a casual posture, he stepped out into the open. “No, not really.”

Cal shrugged and lifted the bar. Pushing up with fairly little exertion, he completed ten repetitions before replacing the bar. Cal glanced at his friend. “Hey, man, I know that the promotion thing—I mean, I don’t want there to be any hard feelings.”

Jeff stood over the bench. “No hard feelings.”