Page 20 of The Fire Captain's Unexpected Baby
The guys look at me with new appreciation when I return. In my rescue attempt, they made great progress at putting out the flames. With a little more concerted effort, we get the fire down to a smolder.
“We just need to watch it,” Levi says. “It could fan back into flame. But someone needs to take those puppies to get checked out by a professional.”
As if on cue, they start to whine in the back of the truck.
“I think you should be the one to take them in,” Levi suggests, a bit more warmth in his voice than usual. He’s never been unfriendly, but I feel like there’s something I’m missing now.
“The guys?—”
“Will be fine with me,” he finishes. “I’m the superintendent, remember?”
Feeling the dismissal, I scoop up the puppies with one arm. Samson throws me the keys to the SUV that he drove alongside the truck in case we needed another set of wheels.
Remember to thank him later, I tell myself as I back out and head toward the shelter.
The puppies are quieter now, with fresh air from the air conditioning and open windows pumping into the car.
“Just a little further,” I promise them. “We’re almost there.”
* * *
Paige
“How fast can you get here?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It’s a pretty slow day here, but Lisa might not be able to handle it on her own. Let me see what I can do.”
Megan has never called me at the hospital before, especially not for animal shelter business. But her panicked voice made it clear that the two puppies the firefighters brought in today are in rough shape. It takes far too much to rattle her calm and composed exterior.
Lisa sits at the nurse’s station, sipping an old cup of what is likely lukewarm coffee from the break room. She has a chart open in front of her, but her eyes are closed as she takes a rare moment of relaxation.
When I explain to her what Megan needs, she gives me a look that can only be described as mischievous. “Does this sudden desire to help puppies have anything to do with a certain firefighter?”
“You know I would do this no matter what.” I roll my eyes, but my smile surfaces unbidden at the memory of Aaron last night.
“Go,” she sighs. “We don’t need two charge nurses on a day where the worst thing I’ve seen is an allergic reaction to peanuts.”
Thanking her, I grab my coat from the back of the chair and dart out of the hospital before she can change her mind.
The shelter is alive with activity when I get there. In addition to the usual hustle and bustle of adoptions, a team of veterinarians is surrounding a table where two small shapes are wriggling.
Megan makes a beeline for me and fills me in on their condition. “We don’t usually ask you to keep medically fragile pups in your home, but there’s really nobody else I can ask. Noah would love them, and I trust him not to make things worse.”
“You never have to apologize for asking me to help.” I reach out and wrap an arm around her shoulders.
She sinks into the embrace. She has to be exhausted from the stress of keeping this place humming today.
The team breaks away from the puppies, allowing me my first good look at them. They must be four or five months old, big enough to live without their mom and siblings. Their big eyes are liquid amber, drawing me close to them.
Upon closer inspection, their noses are bone dry as they press them into my open palms. Their fur is covered in charred wood and soot, but that will wash away with a good bath.
In the back of my mind, I make a running list of what I need to take: old towels, the special shampoo for sensitive skin, and a few soft blankets for them to sleep with.
“You two have really been through it today, haven’t you?” I murmur to the puppies.
“They’re not the only ones.”
I turn at the sound of that low voice, which most definitely doesn’t belong to Megan.
