Page 18 of Fire and Icing (The Firemen of Waterford TN #1)

We both approach the sink to rinse our cups and dishes at the same time. I turn on the water and step back. She rinses her dishes and turns to leave the kitchen.

“Have a nice day,” she says before leaving the room. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” I say. Then I count to five in my head, and when I know she’s far enough away, I add, “Muffins.”

She shouts my name from the stairway. “Dustin!”

I head down the basement stairs, laughing to myself.

Cody and I are inspecting and cleaning the SCBA masks and checking all our tools.

“You’re getting out of here for a few weeks?” he asks.

“Just for a week,” I say. “They film the whole contest in seven days, but it airs over two weeks.”

“Talk about a whirlwind,” Greyson says, setting the mop back in the bucket.

“What’s a whirlwind?” I ask.

“You and Emberleigh. She wouldn’t even talk to you a few weeks ago. Now you’re dating and heading off to do a baking contest with her?”

“Yep.” I shrug.

“Well, best of luck,” Patrick says, handing the equipment log over to me so I can check it off.

“Yeah. I’m happy for you, man,” Cody says. “Emberleigh’s the real deal. She’s special.”

“Yeah,” I admit. “She is.”

I look over at Greyson. He’s staring at me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve.

Trust me, I’m as puzzled as the next guy as to how I got myself into this fake dating situation with a woman who’s sworn we’ll never actually date.

And now I find myself thinking about her whenever my mind isn’t otherwise occupied.

I feel like telling Greyson not to waste his time. I’m an unsolvable puzzle.

The station alarm rings.

Captain pops out the door into the bay. “Bride stuck in the elevator on the fourth floor of the Mayfair. No fire hazard.”

No one says another word. We grab helmets, run to the truck and hop in, skipping our bunker gear since this is a rescue.

Patrick turns on the siren, puts the truck into drive and we make our way to one of the two hotels in town. On the way, Patrick and Cody share updates through our headsets.

“Power is on in the building.”

“No known injuries or medical emergencies.”

“Dispatch, engine one is en route. Maintenance is arriving on scene to attempt to restore elevator operation. One occupant reportedly inside.”

Dispatch responds, “Engine one, copy. Maintenance en route to scene to attempt to restore elevator operation. One occupant inside. Continue response and advise on arrival.”

We pull up out front and I clip my mic to my collar and put my helmet on.

“Rookie on rescue,” Cody says. “Greyson is second man.”

Cody walks ahead of us into the building to gather details from the hotel manager. We run in behind him.

“She’s on the fourth floor. Not injured, but pretty emotional.”

“Hey!” A man shouts from across the lobby. He’s surrounded by other men in suits. A group of women in matching bridesmaid dresses is off to the left of him and the guys.

Despite his tuxedo and slicked back hair, he looks frazzled.

“Cody!” The man runs over to us. “Are you here to rescue Jillian?”

We’re obviously not here to deliver pizzas or provide entertainment for the reception.

“Yes,” Cody answers the man. “Don’t worry, Dane. We’ll get her out.”

“I can’t believe she’s stuck in the elevator! It’s our wedding day! The guests are all out in the garden waiting for her to come down the aisle.”

“We’ve got you, Dane,” Cody assures him.

Dane paces a few steps and turns. “Our wedding day.”

“You’ll be married in no time. Hang tight,” Patrick assures Dane.

Greyson eyes me. “Let’s go.”

I follow him to the service stairs and we take them two at a time to the fourth floor. It’s light work without our turnouts on. I’ve got a tool roll with everything we should need to get this bride out of her predicament.

Once we’re outside the elevator shaft, Greyson uses the elevator access key. I peer in as the hoistway doors slide open. The car is midway between floors, but closer to us than it is to the floor below us.

“Halfway between four and three,” I say to Greyson. “Looks closer to us, though.”

“Couldn’t be nearly here,” he says offhandedly. “I think we can maneuver the car up manually and get her out through the opening if we make enough room.”

I nod. “Let me double check with Patrick that the power is off.”

“Good call, Rookie.”

I speak into my transmitter and Patrick confirms power is off for the elevators.

We run down to the third floor and Greyson uses the key to open the shaft doors.

I shout in to the bride. “Jillian?”

“Yes! Help me! Please get me out of here!”

“We’re going to get you out. We have no intention of letting you miss your own wedding,” I assure her.

“Okay.” She takes a shuddering breath. “Okay. I’m just really claustrophobic. I can’t breathe.”

“So … tell me, how did you meet Dane?” I shout in, while Cody and I manually spin the mechanisms to raise the car as far as we’re able.

“Dane?” Her answer is breathy, but clear.

I put on my gloves. “Yep. Dane. He’s right downstairs, waiting for you.”

“Uh …” she whimpers slightly. “It’s really small in here. My dress is stuck in the doorway.”

Jillian starts to cry.

That’s actually a good sign.

Greyson speaks into his transmitter. “We’re opening the internal doors.”

Patrick’s voice comes through. “Copy. All clear.”

“Hey, hey. We’ve got you,” I assure Jillian. “Your dress and you are getting out of this elevator in less time than it takes for me to heat a frozen pizza. Could you do me a favor?”

“Yes.”

“I need someone to repeat what I’m doing while I make a way for you to climb out. It’s protocol, and Greyson here always messes it up. Could you be the one to echo my steps back to me? I need you to focus. Can you do that for me?”

“Sure.”

I wink at Greyson. He nods.

“I’m going to walk you through what I’m doing,” I shout down to Jillian. “You just keep repeating what I tell you, okay?”

“Y-y-y-yes.” Her voice quavers.

“Okay. I’m going to pry the doors open. Focus for me, Jillian. What am I doing now?”

“You’re prying the doors open.”

“Yes. And you just need to stay back, okay?”

“I’m in the corner.”

“Perfect, stay still.”

She repeats my instructions.

We manage to crank the car up a little higher — not much, but enough to give us a shot. When Greyson pops the inner doors, we can see through an opening of only the top half of the elevator car, like a window going halfway down a tight metal box.

I lay flat on the floor of the fourth floor hallway, peering down into the car. Jillian’s tucked in the corner, eyes wide, dress bunched around her, her train extending out around her and down into the elevator shaft below us.

“Jillian, I’m going to slide in now, okay?”

“You’re sliding in?” she echoes.

No time for further explanation. I stretch out, brace my hands on the elevator floor, and drop my upper body through the opening. Gravity does the rest. My boots lift off the tile as I slither in like I’m diving under a fence.

The second I’m upright, I scan the jammed train of her dress and signal for the tool bag.

“Okay,” I say, standing up. “Let’s see what we’ve got going on here.”

“My dress is still stuck.”

I remove my shears and look at Jillian.

I’m well aware how careful brides are about picking the dress. Jillian might have even dreamed of this wedding for years—maybe she pretended to be a bride when she was a little girl. This is her day and this is her dress. But she’s not getting out of here with all of it.

“Jillian?”

“Yes,” she looks up at me, her big brown eyes full of a combination of fear, relief and resolve.

“You’re safe. I’m going to help you out, okay? But we have to make a choice right now.”

“Okay.”

“Dane is waiting for you. And you are going to marry him in less than an hour. The thing is, your dress can’t stay intact. I have to cut a part of it to get you out.”

“Okay.” She nods, glancing at the spot in the doorway where the train of her dress disappears into the elevator shaft.

“Okay.” I smile at her. “I’ll do my best to keep as much of it as we can.”

She nods and watches me as I snip the edge of her dress, freeing her in a matter of minutes.

Greyson reaches in, and together we help Jillian ease through the opening we made in the doorway.

“All clear,” I say into my transmitter.

“Copy that, groom on his way up the staircase,” Patrick says.

“No!” Jillian shouts. “He can’t see me. It’s bad luck!”

“Copy that,” Patrick says. “We’ll have him wait down here.”

Jillian asks me to have her maid of honor come up instead. Greyson does a check of her vitals and the hotel staff come with an “Out of Order” sign to place in front of the elevator.

We leave the hotel after everything is safely secured. On our way back, I’m staring out the window of the truck, taking in the scenery of the tree-lined neighborhood streets of Waterford.

We pass a couple standing on the sidewalk outside the deli laughing together.

Is that Sydney? Emberleigh’s partner at the bakery?

I wave to her.

She ducks down slightly behind a parked SUV and shields her eyes with her hand.

That was her, right?

Was she trying to hide from me, or was I seeing things?