Free Too Near the Fire by Lindsay McKenna Page B

fairly danced with satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach.
    “Man, that was outstanding.”
    Duke shot a black look in his direction. “Anything’s better than your cooking,” he growled.
    Leah’s stomach began to knot and she lowered her gaze, feeling the tension returning once again.
    “You’re like a damn garbage dump, Saxon,” Apache reported. “I don’t think you taste the food you gulp down.”
    Wilson snickered. “That’s why he’s growing a pot belly. If you didn’t like the cookin’, Duke, why’d you make such a pig of yourself?”
    “Aw, cram it,” he growled as he got to his feet, his chair scraping noisily against the linoleum floor.
    “Duke, didn’t you have the next lowest card?” Gil asked.
    “Yeah.”
    “You get to clean up, then.”
    Belligerently, Saxon placed his hands on his hips. “I ain’t cleaning up after any woman.”
    Gil met his angry gaze coolly. “You will this one,” he answered.
    Apache grinned, slapping Saxon on the shoulder as he walked toward the television. “What’s the matter, gotta eat humble pie?”
    Gil rose. “You can help him too, Apache.”
    The Italian turned, a startled look on his face. “Aw, come on, dammit, I was only teasing!”
    “Fine, put your money where your mouth is, then,” Gil ordered.
    Leah excused herself, unable to take the bickering any longer. She forced herself to maintain an unreadable expression as she disappeared up to the quiet of the second floor.
    Sitting dejectedly on the edge of her assigned bunk, she exhaled a loud sigh, staring down at the highly polished wooden floor. There wasn’t anything she could do that would end up permanently mending the broken peace. On one hand she was indebted to Gil for his fairness in the situation. But on the other, his staunch defense of her was only going to fan the flames of dissension. She couldn’t win and it was placing Gil in a difficult position with Saxon. She got up and paced the length of the room, unable to contain the feeling of helplessness within her.
    If she had been a man, no one would have raised an eyebrow, much less a stink. Her green eyes darkened with pain and confusion. Was the gulf between sexes too great to bridge? She recognized that Gil was doing all he could to help her. But she worried that the situation would create a rift between Gil and his fire fighters. Might they all lash out at Gil, making the pressure on him so great that he would quit? She had seen one of her instructors down at the academy unmercifully teased because he took her under his wing and defended her. Time, she told herself desperately, time would heal the wounds that she had ripped into the fabric of the department simply by being there.
    * * *
    Leah was anxious to leave the station the next morning. The floors had been swept and mopped, the engines polished, and all the gear cleaned. It had been a busy night. They were called out twice, once for a smoke investigation, and the other time for a car fire. Chief Anders finally dismissed them.
    “Don’t forget,” Gil reminded all of them, “we’ll be off duty for the picnic that’s scheduled for August 28th. Have your wives bring a casserole or a dessert.”
    “How about some of my spaghetti and meatballs?” Apache piped up, grinning broadly.
    “Let your wife do the cooking,” Wilson begged, raising his hand in farewell.
    Leah slipped out the side door and walked to her car. It was already warming up even though it was only eight in the morning. Hearing someone come up behind her, she turned. It was Gil.
    “Is the offer still good?” he called, slowing up as he approached her.
    She tilted her head, mystified. “On what?”
    He ran his strong fingers through his dark hair. “Either you’re sending me a message to forget it or you’ve got your mind on something else,” he commented.
    She stared up at him, lips parted as she searched her mind for what he was referring to. “Oh!” she gasped. Touching her