Sean's Reckoning Part 1

SEAN'S RECKONING.

by SHERRYL WOODS.

Chapter One.

Sean Devaney's eyes were stinging from the smoke at the still-smoldering ruins of a tumbledown Victorian house that had been converted into low-rent apartments. Bits of ash clung to his sweat-dampened skin and hair. Even after stripping off his flame-r.e.t.a.r.dant jacket and coveralls, Sean continued to feel as if he'd just exited an inferno...which he had. The acrid smell of smoke was thick in the air and in his clothes. Even after ten years with the Boston Fire Department, he still wasn't used to the aftermath of fighting a blaze-the exhaustion, the dehydration, the stench.

He'd been young and idealistic when he'd joined the department. He'd wanted to be a hero, craved the rush of adrenaline that kicked in when an alarm sounded. Saving lives had been part of it, but so had the danger, the thrill of putting his own life on the line to do something that mattered. In fact, it seemed Sean had spent most of his life trying to matter in one way or another.

Now, though, with the adrenaline wearing off, all he wanted was a warm, pounding shower and about sixteen straight hours of sleep. Unfortunately, until these last hot spots were thoroughly dampened and the location made secure, Sean was destined to stay right here just in case there was another flare-up.

The landlord was d.a.m.n lucky no one had been killed. Indeed, from what Sean had observed inside, the landlord of this building himself ought to be shot. Even in the midst of battling heat and flames, Sean had noticed that there were so many code violations, he couldn't begin to count them all. Though it would be another twenty-four hours before investigators pinned down the cause of the blaze, in Sean's opinion it was most likely the outdated and overloaded electrical system. He hoped the landlord had a healthy insurance policy, because he was going to need it to pay off all the suits from his tenants. Most had lost just about everything to flames or to extensive smoke and water damage.

Sean scanned what remained of the crowd that had gathered to watch the inferno to see if there was any sign of a likely landlord, but most of the onlookers appeared to be more fascinated than dismayed by the destruction.

"Hey, Sean," his partner, Hank DiMartelli, called out, a grin splitting his face as he gestured toward something behind Sean. "Looks like we've got a new helper. He's agile enough, but I doubt he meets the department's age and height requirements."

Sean turned around just in time to catch a kid scrambling inside the fire truck. By the time Sean latched on to him, the boy was already reaching with unerring precision for the b.u.t.ton to set off the siren.

"Whoa, fella, I think this neighborhood's heard enough sirens for one afternoon," Sean said, lifting the boy out of the truck.

"But I wanna do it," the child protested, chin jutting out in a mulish expression. With his light-brown hair standing up in gelled spikes, he looked a little like a pint-size member of one of those popular boy bands.

"Another time," Sean said very firmly. He set the boy on his feet on the ground and was surprised when the kid didn't immediately take off. Instead he stood there with his unrepentant expression and continued to cast surrept.i.tious glances toward the cab of the engine. Sean had a hunch the boy would be right back up there unless Sean stuck close by to prevent it.

"So," he said, hoping to drag the boy's attention away from his fascination with the siren, "what's your name?"

The kid returned his gaze with a solemn expression. "I'm not supposed to tell it to strangers," he said automatically, as if the lesson had been drilled into him.

Sean hated to contradict such wise parental advice, but he also wanted to know to whom the kid belonged and why he was wandering around the scene of a fire all alone. "Normally I'd agree with that," he a.s.sured the boy. "But it's okay to tell me. I'm Sean, a fireman. Police officers and firefighters are good guys. You can always come to us when you're in trouble."

"But I'm not in trouble," he responded reasonably, his stubborn expression never wavering. "Besides, Mommy said never to tell anyone anyone unless she said it was okay." unless she said it was okay."

Sean bit back a sigh. He couldn't very well argue with that. "Okay then, where is your mom?"

The kid shrugged. "Don't know."

Sean's blood ran cold. Instantly he was six years old again, standing outside a school waiting for his mom after his first day of first grade. She had never come. In fact, that was the day she and Sean's father had disappeared from Boston and from his life. Soon afterward, he and two of his brothers were sent into foster care, separated forever. Only recently had Sean been found by his older brother, Ryan. To this day, he had no idea what had become of his younger brother, Michael, or of the twins, who'd apparently vanished with his parents.

Forcing himself back to the present, Sean looked into the boy's big brown eyes, searching for some sign of the sort of panic he'd experienced on that terrible day, but there was none. The kid looked perfectly comfortable with the fact that his mom was nowhere around.

Pushing aside his own knee-jerk reaction to the situation, he asked, "Where do you live?"

"I used to live there," the boy said matter-of-factly, pointing toward the scorched Victorian.

Dear G.o.d in heaven, was it possible that this child's mother was still inside? Had they missed her? Sean's thoughts scrambled. No way. They had searched every room methodically for any sign of victims of the fire that had started at midafternoon and raged for two hours before being brought under control. He'd gone through the two third-floor apartments himself. His partner had gone through the second floor. Another team had searched the first floor.

"Was your mom home when the fire started?" Sean asked, keeping his tone mild. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the boy.

"Don't think so. I stay with Ruby when I get home from school. She lives over there." He pointed to a similar Victorian behind them. "Sometimes Mommy doesn't get home till really, really late. Then she takes me home and tucks me in, even if I'm already asleep."

The kid kept inadvertently pushing one of Sean's hot b.u.t.tons. Another wave of anger washed through him. How could any mother leave a kid like this in the care of strangers while she cavorted around town half the night? What sort of irresponsible woman was she? If there was any one thing that could send Sean's usually placid temper skyrocketing, it was a negligent parent. He did his best to stay out of situations where he might run into one. The last time he'd worked a fire set by a kid playing with matches while his parents were out, he'd lost it. They'd had to drag Sean away from the boy's father when the man had finally shown up, swearing he'd only been away from the house for a few minutes. Sean had really wanted to beat some sense into him. A few minutes was a lifetime to a kid intent on mischief.

"Is Ruby around now?" Sean asked, managing to avoid giving any hint about his increasingly low opinion of the boy's mother. He even managed to keep his tone neutral.

The boy bobbed his head and pointed down the street. "Ruby doesn't have a phone, 'cause it costs too much. She went to the store on the corner to call Mom and tell her what happened. I went with her, but then I came back to see the truck."

Great! Just great, Sean thought. The baby-sitter had let the kid run off alone, too. He had half a mind to put in a call to Social Services on the spot. The only thing stopping him was his own lousy experience in the system. Plenty of kids were well served by foster care, but he hadn't been one of them, not until the last family had taken him in when he was almost ten.

The Forresters had been kind and patient and determined to prove to him that he was a kid worthy of being loved. They had almost made up for his having had his real parents walk out on him and two of his brothers. The Forresters had made up for some of the too-busy foster parents who hadn't had the time or the skills necessary to rea.s.sure a scared kid who was fearful that every adult in his life was going to leave and never come back. Foster care, by its very temporary nature, only fed that insecurity.

Since this child, despite wandering around on his own, showed no other apparent signs of neglect, Sean decided to check things out a bit more before taking a drastic step that could change the boy's life forever. He looked the kid in the eye. "So, how about I call you Mikey? I had a kid brother named Mike a long time ago. You remind me of him. He was pretty adventurous, too."

"That's not my name," the boy said.

Sean waited as the kid hesitated, clearly weighing parental cautions against current circ.u.mstances. He was probably trying to calculate the odds that Sean would let him back into that fire truck if they were on a first-name basis.

"You really don't think my mom would be mad if I told you my name?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm pretty sure she'd tell you it was okay, since I'm a firefighter," Sean rea.s.sured him. "You can at least tell me your first name."

The boy's brow knit as he considered that. "Okay," he said at last, his expression brightening. "I suppose it would be okay if you called me Seth."

Sean bit back a grin at the reluctant concession. "Okay then, Seth, why don't we sit right here on the curb and watch for Ruby to come back?"

Seth regarded him eagerly. "I could go get her. She'd probably want to meet you. Ruby's really beautiful and she's always looking for a new boyfriend. Are you married?"

"Nope, and I think it's best if we wait right here," Sean said, praying for protection from the too-available Ruby and her pint-size matchmaker. "So, Seth, you haven't told me about your dad. Is he at work?"

For the first time, the boy showed evidence of real dismay. His lower lip trembled. "I don't have a dad," he said sadly. "He went away a long, long time ago when I was just a baby. I'm almost six now. Well, not till next March. I know that's a long time from now, but being six is going to be really cool, 'cause I'll be in first grade."

Sean struggled to follow the conversation. He wasn't sure what to say to the announcement that the boy's father had abandoned him, but Seth didn't seem to notice. He kept right on chatting, spilling the details of his life.

"Mom says my dad loved me, but Ruby says he was a no-good son of a something. I'm not sure what." He regarded Sean with hopeful eyes. "Do you think Mom's right?"

Old emotions crowded in, and Sean bit back a string of curses. "I'm sure she is," he rea.s.sured the boy. "What dad wouldn't love a great kid like you?"

"Then how come he went away?" Seth asked reasonably.

"I don't know," Sean told him with total honesty. It certainly wasn't something he could understand. Not in Seth's case, not in his own, even with an adult's perspective on it. He told Seth the same thing he'd been told on countless occasions. "Sometimes things happen that can't be helped. And sometimes we never find out why."

Sean sighed. He certainly hadn't. And until Ryan had come back into his life, he had told himself he didn't care. In fact, he'd gone out of his way not to be found, in case his folks had ever gotten around to looking. He'd stayed in Boston, but he'd maintained a deliberately low profile-an unlisted phone number, no credit cards. Anyone looking for him would have had to work hard to find him. That way, when no one had come knocking at his door, he'd been able to tell himself it was because he'd been all but impossible to find. He'd never had to deal with the possibility that no one had cared enough to look.

His brother Ryan had apparently erected the same sort of walls around his heart. Then he'd fallen in love with Maggie, who had prodded him into searching for the family he'd lost. Sean's safeguards hadn't been enough to stop a determined investigator from finding him, which told Sean that his parents had more than likely never bothered to try. Most of the time he could convince himself that that didn't hurt, but there were times like this when the wounds felt as raw as they had more than twenty years ago.

Just when he was about to sink into a disgusting bout of self-pity, a dark-haired woman wearing a waitress's uniform came racing down the street, her expression frantic. She was trailed by a s.e.xy blonde wearing tight jeans, a bright pink tank top and spike heels.

"Mom," Seth shouted, leaping up and racing straight for the pet.i.te, dark-haired woman.

She scooped him up, smothered his face in kisses, then held him out to examine him from head to toe. Only then did she speak. "What are you doing back here, young man?" she demanded, her expression stern. "You know you're never supposed to go anywhere unless Ruby's with you."

"I came to see the fire truck," he said, then pointed accusingly at Sean, who'd risen to join them. "He wouldn't let me play with the siren, though."

The woman turned toward Sean and held out a hand. "I'm Deanna Blackwell. Thanks for keeping an eye on him. I hope he wasn't any bother."

"Sean Devaney," he said tightly. Looking into huge brown eyes filled with sincerity, Sean couldn't bring himself to deliver the lecture that had been forming in his head from the moment he'd run across the kid. Before he could say anything at all, the second woman stepped forward and slid a hand provocatively up his arm. The muscle tensed at her touch, but beyond that he was pretty much immune to the invitation in her eyes.

"I'm Ruby Allen, the baby-sitter," she said, regarding him seductively. "I've always wanted to meet a real, honest-to-goodness firefighter."

Deanna rolled her eyes at the provocative come-on. "You'll have to excuse Ruby," she apologized. "She's basically harmless."

A lot of men would fall for Ruby's s.e.x-on-the-run att.i.tude, but Sean wasn't even tempted. His dates tended to be smart, independent types who weren't looking for a future. Ruby had desperation written all over her. She might act as if she were looking for nothing more than a roll in the hay, but instinct-and Seth's innocent remark-suggested otherwise.

Deanna Blackwell was another story entirely. With her fragile features and huge eyes emphasized by dark curls that had been cropped very short in a no-muss, no-fuss style, she looked about as innocent as her kid. The stay-out-all-night playgirl mom he'd been antic.i.p.ating was, instead, an angel with smudges of exhaustion under her eyes. That That was a combination that could get under his skin. That was one reason he avoided the type at all costs. was a combination that could get under his skin. That was one reason he avoided the type at all costs.

At the sound of a shout across the street, Deanna suddenly turned toward the house that had apparently been her home. The relief at having found her son gave way to a shock so profound, her knees buckled.

Sean caught her before she fell, inhaling a faint whiff of some soft, feminine perfume that made his pulse leap. The skin of her arms was soft and smooth as satin against his rough palms. When he gazed into her eyes, they were filled with tears and a level of dismay that almost broke his heart. No matter how many times he saw people hit between the eyes by that sudden recognition of everything they'd lost, he'd never been able to steel himself against their pain.

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching for a fresh bottle of water inside the truck and holding it out for her. "Sit down for a minute and drink this."

She sank onto the fire truck's running board. "I had no idea," she whispered, looking from him to Ruby and back again. "I thought...I don't know what I thought, but it wasn't this. What am I going to do? We didn't have much to begin with, but everything we owned was in there."

Sean exchanged a look with Ruby, whose helpless expression encouraged him to take over and reply.

"But you and Seth are safe," he said, dredging up a familiar plat.i.tude. It was a reminder he'd delivered a hundred times, but he knew it was small comfort to someone who'd seen everything they owned-all the sentimental keepsakes from the past-go up in flames. There was always a gut-wrenching sense of loss even when they understood that life was more important than property.

He held her gaze. "You know that's what really matters, don't you?"

"Yes, of course, but-" She shook her head as if something had confused her. "You said something about Seth?"

"Your boy."

She turned to the child in question, an unexpected grin suddenly tugging at her lips. "Why did you tell him your name is Seth?"

"Because I'm never supposed to tell my name to strangers," he said dutifully. He slid a guilty look toward Sean. "I'm sorry I lied."

Sean was surprised at having been taken in by a pint-size con artist. "You're not Seth?"

The kid shook his head.

"Then who's Seth?"

"He's my friend at school," the boy admitted. "I wanted to do what Mom said, but I figured you had to call me something if we were gonna be friends."

"At least one lesson stuck," Deanna Blackwell said gratefully, then met Sean's gaze. "His name is Kevin. I hope you won't hold this against him. He was trying to do the right thing."

Sean chuckled at the clever deception. He'd deserved it for pushing so hard. Maybe she was doing a better job with the kid than he'd been giving her credit for. Maybe she was just a struggling single mom doing the best she could.

"No problem," he rea.s.sured both of them. "Look, if you need a temporary place to stay, there are services available that can help. I can make a call to the Red Cross for you. Your insurance will kick in in a few days."

She shook her head. "No insurance."

He should have guessed, given the sorry state of the building even before the fire. Anyone forced to live here probably couldn't afford insurance. "The landlord probably has some," he suggested.

"On the building, not the contents," she said. "He made that very clear when we moved in."

"Even so, if he's found liable through some kind of negligence, he can be sued."

"You're a.s.suming I could afford a lawyer to handle the suit," she said despondently. "I know what they charge, and I couldn't even afford an hour of their time."

Sean desperately wanted to find something that would put some life back into her eyes. "What about your family? Can they help?"

She shook her head, her expression grim. "That's not possible," she said tightly. "Look, this isn't your problem. You've done more than enough just by keeping Kevin out of mischief, when there are probably far more important things you ought to be doing. We'll manage."

"Stop worrying, Dee. You two can stay with me," Ruby volunteered, giving Deanna Blackwell a rea.s.suring hug. "It'll be crowded, but we can make it work. You're hardly ever home, anyway, and Kevin's already with me every afternoon. I can loan you some clothes, too."

Sean tried to imagine Deanna wearing Ruby's tight-fitting clothes, but the image wouldn't come. Impulsively he reached for his wallet and peeled off a hundred dollars and tucked it into her hand. Before Deanna could protest, he said, "It's a loan, not charity. You can pay me when you get back on your feet."

He saw pride warring with practicality, but then she glanced down at Kevin. That seemed to stiffen her resolve. She faced Sean. "Thank you. I will pay you back."

"I'm not worried about it," he told her.

"But I always pay my debts. It's important to me. Where can I find you?"

"At the fire station three blocks over most of the time," he said, though he was mentally kissing that money goodbye. Years ago he'd learned the lesson never to lend anything if he couldn't afford to lose it. He'd taken very few possessions with him when he'd left home, and since then he hadn't bothered to acc.u.mulate much that had any sentimental value. As for money, it was nice to have, but he wasn't obsessed with it. And he had few material needs that couldn't be met with his next paycheck.

"Bring my pal Kevin by sometime, and I'll let him try out the siren," he suggested, giving the boy a solemn wink.

"All right!" Kevin said.

Satisfied at last that Kevin was in better hands than he'd originally a.s.sumed, Sean jogged back across the street to check on the progress being made at the fire. Only an occasional wisp of smoke rose from the ashes. They'd be out of here soon and he'd be off in a couple of hours. Sleep beckoned like a sultry mistress.

"Way to go, Sean!" Hank said, enthusiastically slapping him on the back. "I saw you with the only two females under the age of seventy in this entire neighborhood. Did you get the number of the hot blonde?"

"Like I really wanted it," Sean scoffed. "She's your type, not mine."

Hank regarded him with disappointment. "How about the brunette with the kid?"

"Nope."

"Two gorgeous women and you struck out completely?" Hank asked incredulously. "Man, you are are slipping." slipping."