We need to go, Mrs. Sands.” Rachel O’Malley stopped the
elderly lady from turning toward her living room and
instead steered her toward the front door and the waiting
Red Cross volunteer. Shutters rattled and a misty rain
blew in the open door, dampening the hallway. The Des
Plaines River was surging through the levee; and getting
people to safety was the priority. It was Tuesday, March
13, and rains across Chicago had triggered rapid flooding
along six miles of the river.
“I need my pictures.”
“Yes, ma’am. But I’m afraid there isn’t time.” Rachel
shifted the birdcage and medicine bag she carried to help
Mrs. Sands with her raincoat. “This wind is strong, so let
Nora and the officer help you.”
With twenty minutes warning to leave their homes,
residents were able to grab a few clothes and personal
items but that was it. Nora took Mrs. Sands’s arm and
helped her walk to the waiting rescue vehicle. Rachel
handed her personal items to the officer.
In the twilight, torchlights bobbed like fireflies along
the block as three police officers and two other Red Cross
workers took part in the evacuation search. Rachel worked
disasters for a living, but she would never get used to
floods. Little could be done once the flooding took
ground. Rachel placed a red fluorescent square on the
garage door of 58 Governor Street to mark it as confirmed
empty. Cold, muddy water swirled over her boots and
reached to her jeans as she waded into the water to cut
across the yard.
The next house was set back from the road, with sloping,
landscaped grounds. Located closer to the river, the house
was suffering the most damage of any so far as water
poured in through the backyard and rushed around the house
to flow down Governor Street. Rachel fought against the
water to walk up the driveway. It took her feet out from
under her. She instinctively threw her arms up to protect
her head as she was swept downhill toward the street. It
was her second dunking of the day.
She slammed up against fire boots.
“Got you.” The reassuring words came moments before hands
slid around her jacket and hauled her to her feet. Captain
Cole Parker stood in the rushing water with his feet
braced apart and let the current break around him. He’d
been buttoning his fire coat.
“Thanks, Cole.” Everything on her was wet. She leaned
forward and dried her face on his shirt. It was rough blue
denim and she could see the white T-shirt beneath it. He
had planned for the reality of this weather better than
she had, with layers to fight the chill. The breadth of
muscles on the man stretched the fabric taut.
“My pleasure, Rae.” His hands pushed back her dripping
hair as he laughed. “You are really wet. The water bang
you up any?”
“I’m okay.” She was embarrassed and annoyed that he’d seen
her fall, but she couldn’t do much about any of it. Her
short haircut was new, and when it was wet it lost any
definition and simply became straggles of hair. She
blinked water out of her eyes and sniffed, then reached
for his hand and dried her eyes on the back of his cuff.
“I wish I’d brought at least a hand towel.”
She tilted her head to dislodge the water in her
ear. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I’d love to have a camera right now,” Cole confirmed, his
smile widening. He put his hands on her shoulders and
helped her turn against the rushing waters. “Go with Jack.
I’ll check the last house.”
Her brother was crossing the street toward her. He was a
lieutenant in the same fire company where Cole was a
captain. Cole said his premature gray hair was at least
partially Jack’s fault. Jack was a careful, safety-
conscious firefighter but invariably led his men in a
firefight from the front lines, especially when there was
someone at risk. Jack was here, and Cole, so Company 81
must have been dispatched to the scene. “I didn’t know
firemen fought floods.”
Cole tugged straight the now sopping Red Cross jacket from
being bunched around her back. “It looks like we’re going
to learn how. The Corps of Engineers guys are stretched
thin. The bridge is ours to defend.”
She raised startled eyes to meet his. “Whose blacklist are
you on?”
Cole laughed. “I hope it only looks impossible. Jack said
it sounds like fun. You have a change of clothes at the
shelter?”
“If I don’t it’s going to be a miserable couple hours
drying out.” The water was inching up around them. She
glanced at the house that had been her original
destination. “You’d better go check the house while you
can still get to it. But please, be careful.”
“Always,” Cole promised. “Can you get me a head count at
the emergency shelter and ask around about pets? I’ll be
pulling my guys back from this street in about twenty
minutes.”
“Will do.” Rachel grabbed Jack’s hand to keep her balance
in the fast-moving waters and headed up the street toward
the truck, which was on higher ground. Cole was defending
the bridge. She smiled. Well at least she knew where to
find him in the foreseeable future. The idea of working at
the nearby shelter suddenly had more appeal.
By Friday the rushing waters were a roar in the night that
grew louder the closer Cole got to the Des Plaines River.
One of the residents of Governor Street forced out by the
floodwaters had raised an American flag to fly over the
sandbag levee that workers had named “the Alamo line.” The
flag waved in the night breeze, backlit by the emergency
lights that enabled workers to keep an eye on the bridge,
which was now cut off and surrounded by water. It was a
defiant symbol. It fit the attitude of those dealing with
the disaster over the last three days.
Today had been rough. When he hadn’t been hauling sandbags
or fixing pump equipment, he’d been working with the guys
who were doing the dangerous job of breaking up and
hauling out debris that had gotten stuck and piled up
beneath the bridge. As he made his evening rounds, Cole
felt a bit like a general inspecting the state of his
troops. Fighting water was far from his specialty—he led
the arson group—but his men had met the challenge. They’d
fought the river to a draw today, and it felt great.
Cole kept a lookout for Rachel as he walked. She’d been
supplying them with hot coffee and sports scores. Her
caramel-colored hair had dried with a flyaway curl to it,
and when he happened to catch her during the rare moments
she had her reading glasses on, Rae reminded him of a
studious college student, years younger than her real age.
She was thirty-five if her brother Jack was to be
believed, and given the intensity of Rachel’s job working
disaster scenes nationwide, Cole wasn’t surprised her hair
had begun to show signs of gray. She was aging elegantly.
If he couldn’t have the pleasure of her company on a date
tonight, he’d settle for a few minutes to talk with her
and enjoy that smile that lingered in his memory.
Cole didn’t see her and hoped that meant she was finally
tucked away somewhere getting a few hour’s sleep. She had
been staying at the emergency shelter rather than
returning to her home a few miles south, her sleeping bag
and duffel bag well used. She carried odd things in that
duffel bag she considered her emergency kit. He’d seen
fingernail polish and stickers and all kinds of colorful
hair ribbons alongside aspirin and envelopes and postage
stamps. He had slipped in a funny Hallmark card he’d
picked up at one of the few businesses in the area
determined to stay open. He wanted her thinking about him
with a smile and a laugh tonight.
Spotting the yellow smiley face on the back of Jack
O’Malley’s fire coat, Cole changed directions and headed
toward the blue pump engine. The engine had been retired
and replaced by more modern equipment years ago, but in a
fight like this one, anything that could pump water had
been called out.
Jack was working on the top of the levee, pushing thirty-
pound bags around. Beside him a six-inch-main fire hose
was taut, stretched up and over the wall of sandbags,
dumping water into the river as fast as the pumps could
throw it back. Cole stopped by the front bumper of the
pump engine, curious as to what was going on, cracking
open another peanut while he waited for Jack to finish
what he was doing. His pocketful of peanuts was turning
out to be dinner tonight.
His friend hauled the hose into the new cradle he had
made. The shoot of water became a water fountain with
spotlights illuminating the flood area. Jack reached down
and lifted a flat cardboard box onto the sandbags. Moments
later a yellow rubber duck with black sunglasses dropped
into the shooting water and reappeared in the middle of
the river.
Jack was playing.
The swift-moving water carried the yellow duck downriver
and under the bridge, where it disappeared.
“Nice shot.”
Jack turned on his perch. “We’ve got ten thousand of them.
I figure they won’t miss a couple dozen.” He dropped
another one and the water shot it into the river where it
bobbed upside down, righted itself, and got slaughtered by
a tree branch it slammed into.
The local chamber of commerce had been planning a duck
race as its opening event in a charity fund-raising drive.
They had ten thousand ducks stored in the fire
department’s maintenance garage. It looked like they would
be stuck with them for a good long time—the event had been
canceled.
“Hold on to a box for Adam tomorrow. He’ll love them,”
Cole said.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
The boy’s home was visible through the trees during the
day, the water now up to the middle of the living room
windows, the mailbox at the roadside underwater. Adam was
down here every day, helping them. He had to watch the
river destroy his home. They were all trying to make the
situation a little easier on him.
“Does the river look like it’s picking up speed?”
Jack reached for his inside pocket and pulled out a
stopwatch. He timed the next duck as it raced between two
poles they’d marked with red flags. “Eight-point-two
seconds. It’s really moving now.”
“The crest should hit in another forty-eight hours.”
“I saw what looked like a small propane tank go by that
was rolling like a cork. Someone’s backyard grill probably
got ripped apart.”
“The cemetery off Rosecrans Road flooded this evening.
That ground was as much loose sand as dirt. I bet this
river current is eating it up like mulch,” Cole said.
“You know about the most ugly things.”
“I work at it.” Cole didn’t mention that Jack’s sister
Lisa had stopped by to drop off two body bags. Lisa’s
boss, the medical examiner, remembered the last time he’d
received a body pulled from the river. It was wrapped in a
curtain for want of a better covering. He’d sent out his
central staff today to make sure rescue crews were
prepared. It was inevitable that someone would attempt to
drive across a flooded street, try to reach a flooded
home, or otherwise act before they thought. The river
would have no mercy.
Cole gestured toward the pump engine. “How’s it holding
up?”
“Beautifully. This baby could pump the whole river if we
asked her to.”
Jack was wet and tired. The hyperbole was getting a bit
thick, but he had cause. He’d been keeping the old pump
engine in top shape through scraped knuckles and
frustrating part replacements. This was her moment to
shine. And so far she was holding her own against the
heavy seepage.
The sandbags were slowing down the river and forcing it to
soak rather than slam through the levee. The pumps still
had to keep up with the fact that unless the water working
its way through was repelled, the river would flood the
city sewers.
“I’m laying a new line of bags around the bank just in
case. It’s going to rise at least another six inches
before the crest. Anything you need?” Cole asked.
“Coffee. Dry socks. Cassie.”
“Interesting order you put those in. I won’t tell Cassie
you made her third.” Cassie Ellis and Jack had been dating
since last fall, and Cole was looking forward to seeing
them married someday. A former firefighter, Cassie had
been badly burned in a nursing-home fire. Cole admired the
way she’d dealt with that tragedy and rebuilt her life.
“Coffee and socks are not a problem. I’ve got Cassie
supervising the hauling out of the library historical
documents. If it can’t be replaced, there’s no use taking
chances.” Cole glanced at the ducks. “But I’ll send her
down later if you want to put her name on one of those.”
He dug out a black waterproof marker from his coat pocket
and tossed it to Jack. “She’ll get a kick out of it.”
“Thanks, boss.”
“Don’t fall in.”
Jack laughed and picked up a duck to start his artwork.
Cole moved on to check the rest of the guys working the
front line.
Rachel’s legs were numb and her left arm ached. She would
not have moved for the world. Nathan Noles was finally
asleep, hiccup-sob-sighs still occasionally shaking his
small frame. Tear-drenched lashes covered his big, brown,
break-her-heart eyes. Life was rough when you were three
and your favorite blanket was missing, swallowed up in the
fast moving waters that had swirled into his home on
Governor Street.
Rachel rubbed her thumb in small circles on his back. They
were buddies. The teddy bear she had offered him to take
the place of his blanket was now muddy in spots and still
clutched under one arm. Nathan had latched on to it and
refused to let go.
She didn’t have a family of her own, but she had her
dreams. A lump rose in her throat as she looked at the
sleeping child. She wanted a son like him. She kissed his
forehead and smoothed out the wrinkles in the warm pajama
top, then tucked the blanket around his shoulders.
Nathan’s family had arrived at the emergency shelter while
Rachel was setting up tables for the Red Cross help desk.
She found her duffel bag, which she had tossed in a
corner, and pushed aside her blue sweatshirt to retrieve
the bear tucked in the corner. “This is Joseph. He’s old
and kind of beat up, but would you like him, Nathan? He’s
a friendly bear.”
The boy’s eyes glanced from her to the bear. Nathan
sniffed and reached out to wrap his hand around the bear’s
arm. He tucked Joseph close and sighed, then leaned his
head back down against his mom’s shoulder.
A shared smile with Nathan’s mom and Rachel had made her
first friend of this tragedy. Ann Noles was a single mom
who worked emergency dispatch for the 911 center. She was
staying optimistic that something in her house could be
salvaged. Rachel found in Ann a kindred spirit.
Nathan’s brother Adam was asleep now, his sleeping bag
spread on top of one of the gym mats. Rachel reached over
and picked up the paperback he’d been reading with the
help of a small flashlight, marked the page he was on, and
slid it in his backpack. A teddy bear had helped Nathan;
she was still working on something for Adam. The flooding
had destroyed a four-year collection of comic books he had
mowed yards and run errands to be able to buy.
Ann would be moving her family from the shelter to stay
with friends tomorrow, for it would be some time before
they could get back into their home to start the cleanup.
Adam wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going back to school
on Monday. The guys working on the levees had made him
welcome. It was much more exciting than school.
Rachel leaned her head against Nathan’s, closed her eyes,
and sought a few moments of rest. Her days began before
dawn. Floods were harder to work than tornadoes because
they first exhausted people with a fight against the water
and then presented them with nothing but devastation. The
tragedy would strike home anew when people could see the
loss—chairs punched through ceilings, furniture smashed
and piled up by the water, plaster collapsed, appliances
destroyed. Exhaustion and dashed hopes would overwhelm
people.
Rachel had built her life around helping hurting people,
but she just wasn’t as young as she used to be, and the
pace wore at her. Being a trauma psychologist for the Red
Cross was a young person’s profession. Not everyone was
able to remain as optimistic as Ann, and keeping other
people’s spirits up inevitably drained her own.
How is Jennifer doing?
Whenever Rachel paused in the midst of her day, her
thoughts returned to her sister. Jennifer’s cancer had
gone through a brief remission, then came back more
aggressive than before. It was around her spine and had
moved into her liver. This return stay at Johns Hopkins
was lasting longer than her first admission a year ago.
The news wasn’t good. Rachel had to get back to Baltimore
to see her.
Having a close family was one of those dreams that had
come true with the O’Malleys, and the idea of losing her
sister to this cancer… The thought was enough to make
tears return. Jennifer was the most precious friend she
had.
“He’s in love.”
Rachel opened her eyes and blinked away the moisture
before turning her head and offering a smile. She hadn’t
heard Cole come into the gym. “So am I.”
He sat down on the mat to her left. Mud had stained the
shirt he put on this morning. She was tempted to reach
over and try to brush some of it off. It would dry stiff
and be uncomfortable, but she knew he wasn’t done for the
evening. He’d be walking the sandbag levee several times
through the night.
He opened the duffel bag he’d left near hers and found dry
socks. “Did you get some dinner?”
“They brought in chicken tonight.”
“I’ll buy you a real dinner when this is over.”
“It’s a deal.”
He paused to look over. “Really?”
She chuckled at his reaction. “How many times have I
pleaded work as an excuse lately?”
He smiled at her. “Three, but who’s counting?”
She’d spent enough time with Cole since Christmas to know
that she more than just enjoyed his company. She was
looking at a guy she could spend the rest of her life
with. And as hopeful and joyous as that idea was, as much
as she wanted to explore what their relationship might
become, she just didn’t have much time or energy to offer
at the moment.
She knew the other O’Malleys would catch wind of their
relationship soon. She had done her best not to mention
Cole too often around them to avoid the speculation. But
in trying to save herself and Cole from some of that
family attention, she’d probably been more cautious with
him than warranted. “Let’s not do Mexican.”
“How about Chinese?”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” His gaze shifted to the boy she
held. He reached over and tucked Nathan’s teddy bear
closer. “He looks comfortable.”
“I like kids.”
“Me too.”
She smiled and rested her head against Nathan, choosing to
let the comment pass.
“Ann is just finishing up at dispatch,” Cole
mentioned. “Are you okay with the boys for another twenty
minutes?”
“Yes.”
Cole leaned his head back against the wall, folded his
arms across his chest, and closed his eyes. “Wake me when
she gets back.”
Rachel hesitated for a moment, doubt creeping in just for
an instant that she was reading Cole’s interest in Ann
correctly. “Sure.”
He didn’t open his eyes but he did smile. “She’s a friend,
Rae. I like her boys. But it’s your brother who has his
eyes on their mom.”
“Stephen?” She had only one brother not involved in a
serious relationship at the moment. Her surprise woke
Nathan.
“Hmm. Only reason I can think of for why a paramedic hangs
around dispatch on a Friday night.”
She could think of another, but still… “He offered to help
them move to her friend’s tomorrow.”
“I heard that too.”
Ann had mentioned that she’d met Stephen, but she hadn’t
asked anything beyond a couple of general questions.
Rachel thought about it as she rocked Nathan back to
sleep. “Stephen?”
Cole chuckled and reached over to pat her
shoulder. “You’ve been busy.”
Rachel saw a sliver of light appear as the door to the gym
opened and the person entering the room paused to let her
eyes adjust to the dim light inside. Ann crossed the room
with care and eased down on the air mattress beside her.
“Nathan woke and realized you were gone,” Rachel
whispered. She waited until Ann was settled, then eased
Nathan onto his mom’s lap, immediately missing the weight
and comfort of holding him. Rachel tugged a tissue from
her jean’s pocket and wiped away a tear trace from the
boy’s cheek. “How was work?”
“Hectic.” Ann lowered her head against her son’s and
closed her eyes. “I’m so tired the air mattress will feel
like a featherbed tonight.”
“I put your ice pack in the freezer. Want to use it for
twenty minutes before you crash?” Ann had waded into the
flooding to help a neighbor and had unfortunately taken a
hard shot from a floating tree limb.
Ann nodded. “I could use it. Thanks.”
Rachel went to get the ice pack. She snagged two tapioca
pudding cups and spoons on the way back. It was nice
having a friend to share the quiet moments with at the
shelter. Pausing inside the doorway, she searched among
the three-by-five cards on the corkboard with her
penlight. She found five messages for Ann and took them
with her across the gym. Ann was cuddling with Nathan.
“A few messages were left for you today. And Cole said he
needed to talk to you.” The man slept so soundly he hadn’t
stirred at their quiet conversation. After three days of
fighting the river, his exhaustion had to be complete.
Every time Rachel had seen him he was in the middle of the
work.
“Let him sleep. He was passing on a message from my
cousin, and I got it just before I left work.” Ann leaned
around Nathan and settled the ice on her knee. She sucked
in a breath at the cold.
Rachel winced in sympathy. “You need to see a doctor.”
“It’s just bruised. I should have gotten up and walked
more today. Sitting just made it stiffen.” Ann relaxed and
opened the pudding cup.
Rachel offered the Hallmark card Cole had left for her.
Ann laughed as she read it, glancing at the sleeping Cole,
then back at Rachel. “He’s sweet on you.” She handed back
the card.
“I hope so.” Rachel tucked it in her bag to make sure it
got home with her. “I’m thinking about being gone for a
couple days,” she said, testing out the idea.
“Going out East to see your sister?”
“Trying to figure out the logistics of making it happen.”
“You should go.”
The kids needed her. Her sister Jennifer needed her.
Rachel was stuck with the reality that she couldn’t be two
places at once. “I’ll be back before the water recedes.”
Ann smiled. “Trust me, the water will still be here.” She
laid Nathan down and stretched out beside him. “I heard a
rumor today.”
“What’s that?”
Ann reached over and rubbed Adam’s back. “Jack was behind
my son’s desire to toss a ship in a bottle into the river.”
Rachel licked the lid of her pudding cup. “My brother is a
kid at a heart.”
“I noticed that. Adam talks about him all the time. Jack’s
a good man.”
“All my brothers are. Stephen is the responsible one.”
Rachel bunched her pillow behind her head and stretched
out on her own sleeping bag.
“I’ve noticed. He brought me flowers tonight.”
“Did he?”
“Hmm,” Ann murmured.
Rachel hesitated, wondering if Ann would say more. “If
you’d like to go out, I’ll baby-sit for you.”
“He didn’t ask me.”
Rachel pushed herself up on her elbow. “Why not?”
“Good question. Will you ask him for me?”
Rachel reached for her jacket and her phone.
Ann stayed her hand as she smiled. “Tomorrow is soon
enough.”
“You’re ruining my fun.”
Ann chuckled. “Thanks, Rae.”
“For what?”
“Telling Stephen to bring me flowers.”
She’d been found out. “You’re welcome. I kind of figured
you needed something to brighten your day.”
“Don’t apologize. A nice guy bringing me flowers and
flirting fits the bill beautifully.”
“I didn’t tell him to flirt.”
Ann smiled. “Exactly. It was nice for morale. I’ll take
you up on the baby-sitting. Tell Stephen I like a good
steak and salad.”
“Done.” Rachel had never met a crisis that flowers
couldn’t help. It sounded like sending Stephen on that
errand had turned out to be a good move. Rachel tucked her
arm under her head and closed her eyes. It was after
eleven, and in six hours she would be starting another
long day.
Rachel woke to the sensation of someone tickling her
wrist. She moved her hand, smiling. “Cole, that—” she
murmured, opening her eyes. No one was there. Her pager
was going off. She had clipped it to a sweatband on her
wrist to ensure that she would wake if it went off. She
tugged it free and looked at the number. Her heart broke
at the special number, suspecting what the page meant. She
slipped from the sleeping bag, left the gym, and returned
the page in the quiet hall.
“Rachel, he didn’t come tonight.”
Marissa was crying.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Rachel walked outside and sat
down on the steps, hearing the hurt and wishing Mr.
Collins could see past his own grief to understand what he
was doing to his daughter. Marissa was a junior in high
school, and her music competition had been tonight, the
top awards included scholarships to college. Tonight had
mattered.
“I got your message. Mom said I should call you back in
the morning.”
“I asked you to call,” Rachel said. “Trust me, friends
don’t care about the time. How did you do?”
“Second.”
“I’m proud of you, Marissa.”
“Linda took first. Her solo was wonderful.”
“There’s always next year.”
“I wanted Dad to be there.”
“I know, honey. He gave his word. He should have been
there.” Marissa had lost her leg in a car accident two
years ago. Traumatic enough for a young girl, but her dad
had been driving and he’d never been able to get past his
own grief. He had walked out last year. Broken promises
hurt when you’re an adult, but when you’re a child and
it’s done by family— Rachel had been there, and even
decades later the hurt didn’t entirely fade. The only
thing she could do at this point was be a friend and
listen.
“Mom took me out to eat afterward. I was too nervous
before then.”
“What did you have?”
“She talked me into trying the scampi. It was pretty
good.” The girl’s tears were fading. “I just thought he
might come.”
“Love always hopes,” Rachel said softly. “He’s still
hurting over the fact that he was driving.”
“Yeah.”
Marissa had fought for two years to get her life back. But
family wounds hurt so much deeper than physical ones.
“Am I doing something wrong?” Marissa whispered.
Rachel closed her eyes. “No. Your dad always wanted to
protect you. Now he feels a need to protect you from
himself. It will eventually get better, Marissa. Remember
when we talked about how time changes people? Keep giving
him opportunities into your life. There will be a day when
he’ll feel able to come. When he does, just start with ‘I
love you.’”
Silence lingered. “Thanks.”
“Time, M. It will help.”
Rachel leaned over to pick up two jacks a child had
missed.
“Greg Sanford asked me to the prom.”
“Did he?” Rachel was pleased to hear the news, for she
knew how much Marissa had hoped to be invited. “I’ve got
to meet this gentleman. I already like him. What did you
say?”
“I said yes, as long as he wouldn’t ask me to dance. We’d
just go.”
“Greg has been there for you this last year. Trust me,
you’ll have a wonderful time.”
“I wish he didn’t graduate and leave in four months. I’m
going to miss him.”
“Did he receive his acceptance papers yet?” Rachel asked,
feeling out the changes coming for her friend.
“From the Air Force academy. He wants to become a pilot
like his dad.” Marissa hesitated. “Do you think we could
maybe have a soda next time you’re in town?”
“I’m nearby,” Rachel said. “I can meet you tomorrow, or we
can do something next week when I get back from visiting
Jennifer.”
“After school next week would be nice.”
“It’s a date.” Rachel wrote a note on the palm of her hand
until she could update her day planner for the month of
March. This kind of fatigue shot holes in her
memory. “Anything you need or want me to tell your mom?”
“Everything there is okay.”
“Anything you’re not telling me that I should know?”
Marissa paused to think about it. “I’m okay there too.”
“Then I’ll see you next week. If you want to talk before
then, promise to call me?”
“Yes. Thanks, Rae.”
“Honey, I’m proud of you.” Her pager went off again. “I’ll
call your mom tomorrow to confirm arrangements for next
week,” Rachel said as she got to her feet. It was a page
from Jack, and that meant trouble at the levee.
“Cole.” Rachel shook him gently, wishing she didn’t have
to wake him. He’d fallen asleep sitting against the wall
with his chin tucked against his chest, arms folded. She
admired his ability to close his eyes and drop off. If he
worried about things, she’d never been able to figure out
when. They certainly didn’t affect his sleep.
Cole opened his eyes, blinked, and focused on her.
“Jack paged. They need you at the levee.”
He took a deep breath and sighed. “Okay, I’m awake.”
“It’s 1 a.m.”
“I didn’t ask.”
She let her hand settle on his forearm as she smiled back
at him. “I know, but your watch stopped. It’s blinking
this strange pattern of red and white numbers. Nathan
thought it was your night-light.”
“Water and watches do not mix. It’s never going to dry
out.”
She stepped back as Cole rose to his feet.
“What’s going on?”
“Jack said something about too much mud in the water—it’s
clogging the pumps.”
Cole reached forward and rested his hand on her
shoulder. “You were up?”
“I had another call.”
“If you need a place to hide so you can get some sleep,
try the front seat of one of the fire department vehicles.
No one will find you.”
He was taking care of her in the same way he took care of
his men. It was nice. “Thanks.”
“Take me up on it. And bring Adam down to the levee later
this morning. Jack’s got something he should see.”
“I’ll do that.”
“You really said yes to finding time for dinner?” His
thumb rubbed her shoulder blade. “I would hate to think I
had been dreaming.”
She chuckled. “Chinese. And hopefully an evening with no
interruptions.”
He was stalling, not wanting to break this moment. She
didn’t either. He was so good-looking half asleep—she
wanted to give him a hug and get swallowed in one in
return. “Go to work, Cole.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled at her and headed toward the door.
Rachel watched him leave and then settled back on her
sleeping bag. She reset her pager and wrapped her arm
around her pillow. When she closed her eyes, she was still
smiling. A smile from Cole and an invitation to dinner was
nearly as nice as getting flowers.
“What’s happening, Jack?”
Cole found Rachel’s brother in the parking lot where they
had the flat-bottom fire rescue boat parked testing brake
lights on the trailer. “I didn’t want to worry Rae. Lisa
needs us. She said to bring a body bag.”
“Where is she?”
“Rosecrans Road.”
Cole squeezed the bridge of his nose and tried to get past
the fact that it was 1 a.m. “Please tell me she knew I was
joking with her earlier. Is the body embalmed?”
“Lisa’s first words when I returned her page were, ‘the
water is destroying my crime scene!’ Then she got testy.
It sounds real to me.”
“You’ve got interesting sisters.”
“Tell me about it.”
Cole pulled out his keys. “I’ll drive. Do we need more
than the two of us?”
“It sounds like she needs us for transport. Company 42 is
working in the area.”
“Okay. Let’s go see what she’s gotten herself into.”
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