Page 98 of Faking It with the Firefighter

The call turned out to be a false alarm, which was a good thing. At the same time, it left me to my thoughts again as we loaded back in and headed back for the station. We were only a few blocks from the house we’d just left when we got another call.

“What’s the situation?” I asked the dispatcher over the radio.

“Someone’s cat is stuck in a tree. It’s nearby. Can you stop over and help ’em out?”

A cat stuck in a tree. How cute was that. I smiled and glanced at the guys. “You guys up for it?” They all shrugged and said why not? We were already out anyway.

“What’s the address?” I asked, then listened as she rattled off an address on Persimmon Road.

Wait a second. That was Abigail’s house. And that had to mean it was Winston stuck in a tree. My stomach tightened thinking about how distraught Abigail must’ve been. And then it tightened some more at the thought of seeing her.

My lungs constricted, and even the familiar steel-and-rubber scent of the fire engine couldn’t calm my nerves. My girl needed me, even though she might not agree with the fact that she was my girlorthat she needed me. I sounded the sirens and hit the gas with my heavy boot. In less than four minutes, we’d pulled up to the scene. Sophie waited at the curb and waved us over. “Where’s Winston?” I called out, running toward her.

She blinked at me. “Rex? I thought you’d be taking time off after this weekend.”

“Where’s Winston? Is Abigail okay? Do I smell smoke?”

“Maybe you should get back in the fire truck,” Sophie said, shoving at my shoulder.

“Hang on. Stop. You called us about a cat. It’s Winston, isn’t it?”

She sighed, then pointed over to the old oak tree. “He’s up there and he won’t come down. I think he’s scared.”

I looked ahead. The scene glowed in the streetlight. Abigail stoodat the base of the trunk, her arms folded in, looking really shaken up. “Thanks, Sophie.”

My heart stuttered. Abigail looked drawn and tired, like she hadn’t slept in a week. Squinting against the bright headlights shining from the fire truck, Abigail recognized me and scowled. “Rex? What are you doing here?”

“Got the call about your cat.” I pointed up.

“Of course you did,” she mumbled. “Here to save the day again, huh.” Her face was red and blotchy like she’d been crying. I hated seeing her like that. I wanted to pull her into my arms and comfort her, let her know I was here and it would be okay.

But I didn’t have that right. I’d turned my back on her when Gabe showed up here and asked me to leave, and then again when I’d run off to try to save Donny’s future. I’d lost the privilege of holding her in my arms. My chest felt hollow, my fingers twitching with the need to go to her.

I cleared my throat and asked, “How long’s he been up there?”

“Not long,” she answered, not looking at me. The light shone on her jaw, her neck. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her, so I shifted my gaze to the leafy tree. Abigail’s voice was small when she said, “He won’t come down. I don’t know what to do.”

I looked up, spotting his glowing cat eyes in the dark.

Behind me, the guys carried the ladder, but I couldn’t wait. I got up on a stepladder the girls had placed by the tree and jumped as high as I could, latching on to the lowest branch. “Don’t worry. I got him,” I called below, scraping my bootsagainst the trunk to get more leverage. I hoisted myself up on the branch and climbed up toward the cat.

He groaned at me, balancing on his furry little feet.

“C’mere, Winston,” I said softly. “Abigail’s worried about you.”

Winston meowed back as if he understood exactly what I was saying. Only, I couldn’t totally interpret his communication. He took two steps toward me and I reached for him.

“Ladder’s here, Rex!” one of the guys called up. Winston and I looked down, and the cat yowled and backed off toward the edge of the high branch, way out of arm’s reach.

“No ladder!” I called down, and they backed off. “Okay, no ladders,” I said, turning back to Winston. “Now, c’mon. Let’s get you back home.”

The cat glanced at the ground then back at me. He didn’t move an inch, just glared.

Of course he wasn’t going to make this easy. He wasn’t exactly my biggest fan—and he was Abigail’s cat. She’d choose a pet just like her. Hard on the outside, but sensitive underneath. I settled back, eyed the cat, and in a calm voice, I said, “So I guess you know what happened between me and Abigail, huh?”

Winston replied with a low groan.

“I messed up. I know I did. I put everyone ahead of her. I tried to fix mistakes that had nothing to do with me. Instead of taking care of the one person who mattered, I ran around trying to take care of everyone else.”

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