Men In Uniform: Burning For The Fireman. Barbara McMahon

to the downpour.

      The baby gurgled and patted Cristiano’s cheek. He felt a tightening in his chest.

      “His entire life is before him. What do you think he’ll do when he grows up?” he asked softly as Dante settled against him to watch the rain.

      “He can be anything he wants. I want him happy and healthy. And when he’s older I’ll tell him all I remember of his mother,” she said, leaning against his left side. Cristiano put his arm around her shoulder. For long moments the three of them looked at the storm.

      “And his father? What will you tell him about that man?” Cristiano asked.

      “Ariana said he had vanished from their life. And the affair had been a mistake. But that, I would never tell their son. I’ll just have to say he’s gone.”

      “Do you think he’s dead?”

      “I have no idea. I had hoped I’d find something on this trip. People could have forgotten even if Ariana had been through here. Lots of tourists visit this area.”

      “Hmm.”

      “I hope it doesn’t rain Friday,” she said. “Cemeteries are sad enough without the heavens weeping as well.”

      “Well said. It rained on the day of Stephano’s funeral. I think Heaven was weeping,” Cristiano said slowly. He had never thought about it that way. He would have been weeping had he been at the church.

      “Stephano was your friend?”

      “My best friend.”

      “I’m sorry he died.”

      “He was killed in the bombing. We were on our third rescue foray when the second bomb went off. The roof of the tunnel completely collapsed, killing everyone still beneath it.”

      Cristiano wanted to step out into the rain, feel the cleansing of the water, feel the coolness, see the sky above him, know he was alive. But he held the baby, so remained sheltered in the doorway. The trust from Dante touched him. The baby knew the adults around him would care for him.

      She reached around his waist, hugging him. “How horrible.”

      “The entire event was horrible.”

      “But you saved seven lives. If not for you, they would have perished in the second bombing.”

      “It wasn’t enough. There were so many still trapped.”

      “It’s amazing, that’s what it is. How can you say it wasn’t enough? It was more than anyone expected.”

      “I should have made sure Stephano was right behind me, not lagging behind—that he had not been in the tunnel when it collapsed. We lost seven men from our station.” The anguish penetrated to his core. His duty was to save lives. His chosen way was to fight disasters and rescue people. He hadn’t even been able to rescue his best friend.

      She offered support the only way possible, her body warmth to chase the chill of torment. If only she could truly heal his sorrow. If only anyone could.