Worth the Trouble (2 page)

CHAPTER ONE

At the end of a twenty-four hour shift, the first since his week at the ranch for his sister's wedding, after three back-to-back calls, Ethan Cassidy was mentally and physically wrung out. 

He knew his
dad had to be exhausted too, the week they had taken for vacation to attend the wedding had been anything but relaxing.  After a blur of preparations, followed by loads of drama, his sister was happily married and off on her honeymoon with Joel. but they were worn out. 

None
of them could be more than Ethan though. 

On top of the preparations and drama
, he had spent his last night at the ranch up in a hayloft loving Roxanne Baker until the sun came up.  Something he would never forget as long as he lived.  She was someone he would never forget.  Memories played through his mind like a video and he grinned. 

If he could somehow figure out how to make a long distance relationship work with her, he wanted nothing more.
  He had called the ranch this morning to talk to her, but Penny the cook told him Rocky was working with a new group of guests, and would probably be tied up for a few days.

The fire hose in his hand bucked under the high pressure water shooting through it, waking him up. 
Ethan gathered his focus again, because he knew he needed it to keep the heavy hose and water stream directed at the flames, which were quickly engulfing the old wood farmhouse.  By the minute, the flames crept higher and higher up the walls.  Pretty soon, he knew the house would be beyond saving. 

Maybe if they hadn't been so long getting here, they would have had a chance. 

This place was out in the boonies, and didn't have a street address.  The only way they'd found it was by catching sight of the fire and smoke above the trees.  Half a mile down a dirt road you could miss in the blink of an eye, behind a stand of trees, it was a wonder they had found the house even then.

With the 911 caller nowhere in sight when they arrived, they had done a cursory search for victims, before going to work on the fire.  With t
he sketchy cell phone service out here, Ethan figured the family had probably had to go to a neighbor's house to call for help.

"
Ethan, you and Booker go up and flap the roof," his captain yelled in his booming voice over the radio.  Climbing up on the roof to cut a ventilation hole, always a risky proposition, was not something Ethan relished doing right at this moment. 

It was hard enough trying to hold onto the high-pressure hose with it vibrating beneath his hands numbing them.
 

"And be careful!" h
is father added.

"Yes, sir." Ethan replied with a groan
then handed off the hose to the guy behind him.  Lately, his father, the chief, had taken to issuing him that last warning. 

Considering the t
hree times recently he'd had close calls with his equipment and fires, Ethan could definitely understand his father's concern, but hated being singled out for the warning, because he was
always
careful.

Between a
ventilator malfunction, the head of his axe coming off while he was inside a burning office building, then his new rope mysteriously breaking during a rescue in a house fire a lot like this one, his dad was understandably jumpy. 

Ethan was taking extra precautions too. 
Since the last incident, he checked his equipment religiously after every fire. 

That Ethan had a known
propensity for taking calculated risks when lives were at stake probably didn't make his father feel any better either.  If it meant saving lives, Ethan was prone to pushing the envelope just past safe. 

Although t
hat made him a good firefighter, the best, it also worried the crap out of his family.  Regardless of his concern though, it was Ethan his father called on for the dangerous jobs.  Like this one.

They just didn't mention it to his mother or sister.

Losing a man in a fire just like this one six months ago, had made his dad a little gun shy too.  The man they'd lost had been on the battalion two years, but he took risks that any rookie would know better than to take.  The last one had gotten the man killed.  It was his own damned fault, but his father blamed himself.

R
isk was part and parcel with the job they did though.  Every one of them knew that every fire they were called out on could be their last, and accepted that.  In Ethan's estimation life itself was one big risk, so he didn't mind putting his life on the line when he needed to do it, that was his job.  They were highly trained, and took every precaution to make sure both they and their brothers came out alive. 

When his equipment failed, his brothers had been there to make sure he escaped.  He and Booker had buddy breathed on
Booker's SCBA when his went bad, when his axe broke, Ben had pulled him from under the burning beam that had fallen on him, and when his rope broke, the team fought through to him with the hose to get him out. 

If something happened here tonight, they would do the same.
Firefighters were a team, a family, and had each other's backs--always.

Ethan
paired up with Tim Booker and they ran for the tanker truck to get axes and a ladder.  Hefting the ladder onto his shoulder, Ethan waited for Booker to grab the axes, then they jogged back toward the burning house.  The west wall wasn't burning yet, so they leaned the ladder there and extended it up to the roof of the second story.

Over the roaring flames, Ethan heard his father's slightly frantic voice as he yelled into the radio.  "Ethan the mother just showed up down here and there's a three-year-old
girl still inside.  Upstairs bedroom on the east side."

A rush of adrenaline pushed through Ethan
and his heart bounced off of his ribs.  He hadn't planned on going inside, so he hadn't donned a self-contained breathing apparatus when he got the ladder from the truck. 

It looked like he was going inside now. 

"Got it, Cap...have to get a SCBA and a rope," he replied tiredly.

"Smith go bring Ethan a SCBA
, rope, and spare ladder on the double!"

"Aye, Cap,"
Ethan heard Joey Smith reply.

"Let's move the ladder," Ethan told Booker and they each took a side and carefully made their way toward the other side of the house.  The side where bright orange
flames licked at the eaves.  The second story wasn't burning yet, but he knew it would be thick with smoke and hot as hell.  Most likely the floor would be iffy too.  Rescuing the child would also be iffy, but he was going to give it his best effort. 

"Father is inside too, down here.  He was trying to get to the kid.  Jerry is going in down here to find him."

"Aye, Cap," Ethan said and saw Smith round the corner of the house with the SCBA.  Tony followed right behind him with the spare ladder that would provide his secondary escape route.  After donning the backpack, Ethan put on the face mask and checked the seal then flicked on his headlamp.  Booker put one on too and nodded. 

"Man the
rope, Book," Ethan instructed then hooked a rope-like rope to his waist and scurried up the ladder with Booker holding it steady.

The
rope would help him find his way back out the window once he rescued the child.  Booker would keep an eye on him from the entry window.  Usually, they went in together, but it was an exterior room and Ethan needed to move fast.  Besides, there was no need for two of them to be in danger.  If he got in trouble, Booker would make sure he got back out. 

"I shouldn't have to go in far
," Ethan said then broke out the window, surprised when only a small amount of grey smoke billowed out.  That could change on a dime though, he knew.  The added oxygen would feed the fire, and draw it to the ventilation.

"Smith set up the spare ladder at the window around the corner,"
Ethan instructed then leaned into the window to assess things.  He was relieved when he didn't see any orange glow in the room.  Quickly, he ducked and entered the room, then dropped to the floor and crawled keeping his hand on the wall, so he didn't get disoriented. 

In the
smoky darkness, as he moved around the room on his knees, Ethan identified a dresser by touch, then a rocking chair and a couple of other pieces of furniture.  Finally, he found the bed and felt around on the mattress until his hand touched hot skin. 

The child wasn't moving, and didn't wake up when he shook her, but a hand on her chest told him she was still
breathing shallowly.  She wouldn't be for long if he didn't get her out of here fast.  The smoke was getting thicker and the heat more intense.  He glanced at the door and saw a glow under the crack in the door, which told him the fire was right outside in the hallway now.

Pulling the child's limp body off of the mattress, he d
raped her over his shoulder, then grabbed the rope at his waist and started back toward the window.  As soon as he got her outside, he would give her oxygen.  Right now, he had to get her outside. 

Ethan wondered if Jerry had found the father downstairs yet.  This fire was getting hotter by the second, and if they didn't get everyone out soon, they wouldn't be able to save them.
  Since Ethan was the paramedic on the crew tonight too, he was going to have to treat both of victims, once they were out of danger.  He probably needed to check the mother for injuries too.

B
y the time he reached the entry window, the smoke was so thick he couldn't see at all out of his mask.  Relying on touch only, he felt for the window sill, until a hand touched his shoulder and he shoved the child that way.  Her legs brushed his arm when she slid through the window and relief swamped him.  That relief didn't last long though, the heat inside his turnout gear ratcheted up three hundred times, and Ethan knew he needed to get the hell out of here and fast.

"Clear out!" he heard his Captain yell
and adrenaline shot through him. 

Swiftly, he
swung his leg over the sill, threw himself out of the window and rolled onto the roof, before scrambling toward where he knew the ladder was propped. 

He had no idea if the roof was clear of his men, because at this point the smoke was so thick he couldn't see a damned thing.  Kneeling he felt for the ladder
.  Just as his hand touched the ladder, what felt like a red hot sledgehammer slammed into his back.  In slow motion, he felt himself flying through empty space.  Spots danced in his vision and right before he blacked out, Ethan thanked God he wasn't going to feel the impact when he landed. 

If he died, at least he wouldn't be awake for it.

When
Ethan opened his eyes again, it was dark, so that probably meant he wasn't dead, but he heard a low steady whooshing sound like helicopter blades.   His blurred vision cleared and he saw a man leaning over him shooting medicine into an IV tube.  He followed the tubing to his arm and saw the IV line was attached to him. 

"What--" he couldn't manage to form words to finish his sentence. 

They all scrambled up in his head and formed a logjam near his mouth.  That's when he realized he was intubated and suddenly felt like he was choking.  He grabbed at the tube, but the medic held down his arm and yelled to his partner to knock him out again.

The next time he woke up there was bright light that almost blinded him, and
this time Ethan thought for sure he was dead.  When his eyes finally adjusted though, he saw a lot of people around the bed.  The wall of people parted and he thought he saw his mother standing across the room against the wall, and she looked to be crying.  He didn't want her to cry, so he tried to sit up but a rough hand shoved him back to the bed. 

"Lay still, Cassidy
. I'll get you more meds." 

He knew that voice, but couldn't place it
.  He thought it might be someone he'd worked with before, but he wasn't sure.  Too tired to think, and not able to get his brain to focus, Ethan closed his eyes and mentally he took an inventory of his body, or tried to.  All the pain seemed to be converging in his back, but his legs felt rubbery, and his head hurt like a bitch.  He tried to move his legs, but nothing happened.  At least he didn't think anything happened. 

Either he was drugged up, or he was paralyzed
, he thought.  He prayed to God they had given him every drug in the cabinet, because he couldn't imagine living without being able to walk. 

He wouldn't want to live.

Panic shot through him and a wail worked up from his chest but got trapped between the tube in his throat and his lips.  He pointed at the tube and his eyes opened to meet those of Frank, that was his name, a medic who he had helped train, but worked in the Emergency Room at the hospital too.  Ethan's eyes burned and fear made him feel like he was going to vomit.  His stomach roiled and then he gagged.

"Knock him out so
we can take him to radiology," Frank told someone and a minute or so later, Ethan welcomed blissful blackness, because that's all he had to look forward to now.

Time meant nothing to him, so when he woke again he had no idea what day it was or even where he was.  A pretty nurse in green scrubs was taking his vitals and she gave him a soft smile.  Ethan's face wouldn't work for him to return the greeting.  He tried to talk, but his throat felt like ground meat inside.