She frowned. At a paid fire station each fire fighter was assigned a specific job and rarely stepped into any other specialty. If a man was a driver and pump operator on an engine, he always remained in that position. It sounded as though she would be a “gopher,” doing the myriad jobs that were demanded of a fire fighter at a scene, but having no one specialty. Though she didn’t feel comfortable with Gil’s comment, she said nothing as she followed him back to the next pumper.
“This is Molly, our aerial ladder. We’ve got some three- to five-story buildings around here and occasionally we need her services. The last one here is Lizzy and she’s our squad truck. We take her out on extrication runs, medical emergencies, and other miscellaneous duties.” Gil halted, resting his tall frame against the squad truck, and looked at her for a long moment.
“I understand that you specialized in auto extrication down at the academy.”
“Yes, I loved it. I joined a volunteer fire department while I was down at Reynoldsburg and the extrication officer, Harry Billings, sort of took me under his wing and showed me the ropes.”
Gil looked impressed. “Harry’s one of the best,” he agreed, his voice taking on a new tone of respect. “I did all my training under him down at the academy years ago. Did you make any runs?”
“Five,” she admitted, deliberately trying not to recall those scenes. She hadn’t been ready for the blood, the screams of the people trapped inside the wrecked cars. No one had prepared her for the emotional side of the work. She had been sick more than once after the victims had been extricated and were on their way to a hospital in an ambulance. Harry had stoically waited until she was done and then they collected the gear. His only words were: “You’ll get used to it after a while, Leah.” And her returning comment had been: “I doubt it.”
“Blood bother you?” Gil asked, interrupting her thoughts.
How should she answer? If she was honest, it did. But if she owned up to it, he would think her weak and incapable. “No,” she lied.
He reacted as if he’d expected no other answer. “Depending on how you work out here, Leah, I need someone besides myself who can run the extrication equipment. I get called in every time we have that sort of job.” He smiled, and his face lost its momentary seriousness. “I have other things to do during my days off, so maybe we can eventually work out some sort of a system.”
“You get that many calls?” she asked, a little surprised.
Gil nodded. “Yeah, we’re right off a turnpike and a major interstate. And because northeast Ohio is so heavily industrialized, we have more spills of hazardous materials here than in any other part of the state.”
Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “How many fire calls do you get a year?”
“About three hundred fire runs and two hundred miscellaneous ones, including mutual aid with four other volunteer departments that surround our town’s border. We keep pretty busy. You like to fight fires?”
She considered it a silly question. “Of course,” she answered, stung. “I didn’t put myself through the academy for a lark.”
Gil held up both hands. “Easy, I was only wondering.”
She felt a rapport with him and decided to take a chance. “Lieutenant, why aren’t you treating me like the plague? Most fire fighters would.”
He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, shifting his weight to one leg. “A couple of reasons, I guess. One, I’m not from Baybridge originally. Two, I’d like to consider myself open-minded about a woman doing this job.” He frowned. “If you prove to be able to handle the runs, I’ll be a hundred and ten percent behind you. But if you don’t cut it, I’ll be the first to recommend your dismissal,” he warned.
She compressed her lips. He was like all the rest. She would have to be twice as good as any male rookie and make half as many mistakes as any other man who might hold the same job. Well, it was too late to turn back and slink into her old way of life. When she had divorced Jack she had said goodbye to the suffocating lifestyle that she had led for six years.
“Are you saying that the rest of the fire fighters are locals?”
He ran his strong-looking fingers through his hair, pushing a stray strand off his forehead. “They are. As two outsiders, we might even call them clannish and backward,” he admitted ruefully. “This town is an agricultural area for the most part, with a few coal mines and coal trucks thrown in.”
Leah stepped away from him. She was drawn too easily to his quiet magnetism. He was handsome in an interesting way, a way that attracted her and at the same time frightened her. “Why are you being so helpful?” she demanded.
“Until you give me cause to treat you differently, I won’t discriminate on the basis of your sex.”
She eyed him distrustfully. She had run into two types of fire fighter thus far. One type disdained her completely and treated her with angry silence. The other type tried to seduce her, seemingly turned on by the thought of a woman doing a dangerous job. Gil Gerard seemed to be the latter…but she wasn’t sure.
She touched her brow, managing a fleeting smile of apology. “I’m sorry. I’m sure I sound like I’ve got a chip on my shoulder. It’s just that I’ve endured a hell of a lot of chauvinism.”
“Yeah, you got a little chip on your shoulder,” he commented, a slow grin pulling at his mouth. His eyes were dark and sparkled with mirth. “And I do have to admit, I did fight fires with a woman before I joined here, so I have a little more experience in the matter than the rest of the fellas.”
Leah’s eyes widened. “You did?”
Gil shrugged. “I was a volunteer fireman before I joined a paid department.”
“For how long?”
“Five years.”
“And how long have you been paid?”
“Three.”
She stared at him. “And you’ve made officer already?” There was a newfound respect in her voice. Being a fire officer wasn’t some cushy job gotten through political pull. No, the man or woman selected had to have a lot of intelligence and experience to be sending a fire team into unknown and many times dangerous situations.
“I’m good at taking tests,” he said, trying to minimize his credentials, as he led her around to the opposite wall where the turn-out gear was neatly hung.
“You have to be more than a good test taker to get the rank,” she observed seriously, stopping at his shoulder.
“Hmm, I suppose. Let’s try and find some gear that will fit you.” He emphasized the word fit. For the next half hour Leah tried on every coat and every pair of boots and bunker pants in the station. Nothing fit. It was all too large. Especially the boots. She sat on the chair, sliding off the last pair.
“We’ll have to order you an outfit,” Gil acknowledged as he hung the last coat back up on its hook. “Probably take a couple of weeks, if I know our dispatcher.”
Leah looked up at him sharply. “I’m not about to sit out fire calls for that period of time!”
“I wouldn’t let you anyway. For now, let’s get the closest fit, and tomorrow when we’re off duty I’ll take you up to Cleveland and we’ll get you some decent gear. Deal?”
Either he was an angel or he had an angle, Leah decided, mulling over the tempting invitation. She had just rented an apartment and most of her articles were still packed. It wouldn’t be much fun spending the day there alone. Furthermore, she was unacquainted with the area and knew it would be better if he were along. Still…she didn’t want to socialize with anyone here at the station. She had read enough articles