The Fire Inside (33 page)

America’s Bravest—Six Novellas

The men and women on another Rescue Squad in the
Hidden Cove Fire Department have complicated personal relationships
due to the nature of their jobs. Each of the six novellas details
the love and work of one firefighter, but the stories are tied
together with an arson case and a blogger out to discredit them.
Smashwords

It Had to Be You

Beckett Sloan is an Iraq and Afghanistan veteran who
comes home with PTSD. He joins the fire department and finds the
love of his life in army nurse Lela Allen, but his demons keep them
apart.
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Chasing the Fire—Three Novellas

In another set of novellas, CHASING THE FIRE, the
past catches up with three brave firefighters and they must wrestle
with it to find love and contentment.
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The Fire Inside:
Fire Department Psychologist
Jack Harrison has spent his life helping firefighters in Hidden
Cove, but when he goes to upstate New York to train with a recruit
class, he clashes big time with Captain Tess Righetti. Then, one
night after she is injured, their contact unexpectedly explodes
into sizzling passion. Jack never expects to see her again, until
she moves to Hidden Cove.
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To browse Kathryn’s impressive list of titles go
to
http://www.kathrynshay.com/books/
.

Copyright 2014 Kathryn Shay

Cover art by Patricia Ryan

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Now, for a look at Kathryn Shay’s new series:
The Ludzecky Sisters
. Many fans will remember them from
PROMISES TO KEEP, Secret Service Agent Luke Ludzecky’s story, and
CLOSE TO YOU, the second book in The O’Neil series, featuring C.
J., the oldest sister. The girls also have cameos in the other four
O’Neil books. Now, the six sisters have their own stories. Alike in
looks, but completely different in personalities, their lives will
tug on your heart strings.

The Ludzecky Family was well acquainted with
the trials and tragedies in life, but none was as horrific as this
one. The matriarch, Donuta Ludzecky, affectionately known as Matka,
sat in the front pew of a Catholic Church next to her best friend,
Rosie Pettrone. The woman had suffered the worst loss any mother
could have visited on her—losing a child, or in this case losing
two. Twin boys. Thirty-five years old. They’d been married to
Paulina and Antonia, Donuta’s two daughters. Like the good Polish
woman that she was, Donuta sat stalwart, holding back any display
of her own emotions. Of course, she suffered with and for her
friend. But she also couldn’t help thinking of the effect this
obscene event would have on her eight Ludzecky children.

Her gaze traveled first to her twin girls,
sitting on each side of Rosie. Antonia had dissolved into tears the
moment they walked into church and hadn’t stopped crying. Lukasz
had to take care of her two year old son Salvador, who wept softly
into his uncle’s chest. Paulina, stronger both physically and
emotionally than her twin, had slid her arms around her boys, and
remained stone-faced. The crying would come later for her girl,
Donuta knew. And their lives would never be the same without their
husbands. Donuta learned that fact from the death of her own
husband when she was in her forties.

Her gaze landed on her boy, Lukasz. He and
his wife Kelsey had come down from Binghamton. Their near-perfect
lives had been long in coming, and, now, their happiness would be
shadowed by their sisters’ trauma. The same was true for Caterina.
She was content as a mother of two, working in linguistics for the
Secret Service, madly in love with her husband Aidan O’Neil. She’d
want to protect the girls, which was impossible. She’d already made
plans to stay in Queens with them for three weeks.

Ana, the third oldest, had helped take care
of the others, especially when more babies came along and Donuta
was in the hospital giving birth or twice with exhaustion. Though
Ana was happily married with one child, she’d smother her twin
sisters trying to right things for them.

Magdalena, a year younger than Ana, would
take over the logistics. A successful venture capitalist, she’d try
to organize, strategize and “fix” whatever she could for her
sisters. She didn’t yet know there was no fixing tragedy, that the
girls needed to grieve, but Magdalena had a stubborn streak.

And then there was Sofia, who’d had tragedy
of her own in her life. At sixteen, she’d developed leukemia. The
treatment forced her to give up her beloved dancing aspirations.
This child would go into herself unless someone stopped her.
Fragile, almost waif-like, Donuta hoped she could withstand the
sorrow that had come their way.

And last was Elizabeita. Who knew what her
youngest would do? Bright enough to be a Rhodes Scholar and earn
two degrees at Oxford, pretty enough to be a model and bold enough
to take all kinds of safety risks, the girl had been impossible to
control all her life. Donuta worried about her. How would her baby
handle the overwhelming grief?

When the priest asked them to stand, Donuta
chided herself. She was thinking about her family’s welfare, and
here was poor Rosie, who’d suffered such loss. However, the facts
remained: Donuta would be a good friend in every way, but her role
as Matka would make her priorities her children, as always.

Three Years later

“Stop fidgeting. I’m almost done.” The
statement came from Magdalena, Paulina’s older sister, who right
now was fussing her hair into a French braid.

Paulina stared in the mirror. “Sorry, I just
don’t see the point of this. Clipping it back would be easier.”

“You’re meeting with the architect for this
new project. You should look presentable.”

“Why? I won’t get more jobs from him because
of my hair.”

Magdalena, who always looked as if she’d
stepped out of the pages of Vogue, sighed. “I hate that you hide
your beauty.”

“I don’t hide it. It’s just not important to
me.” Paulina touched her face, wide and freckled. “So don’t you
dare ask for me to put on makeup.”

“There, I’m done.” She picked up a hand
mirror and Paulina turned around.

Thick and tightly woven, hanging past her
mid-back, the braid
was
pretty. But the sight made her sad.
She could still see her husband, his big hand fisted in her hair.
He’d whispered,
Grow it long again. That’s sexy as hell.

“You don’t like the style?” Magdalena asked
at her expression.

“I love it.”

“But?”

“My hair was short when Donnie died. He
wanted me to let it grow but I couldn’t see the point.”

Her sister’s smile disappeared. “Yours grew
the fastest.”

In some kind of unconscious solidarity, the
seven of the Ludzecky girls had grown their hair long since the
Pettrone brothers’ deaths, to match Antonia’s, which she’d had
always reached down her back. No one planned it, but now they all
had the same thick, sun streaked blond hair of the same length.
Donnie
would
have loved it.

Magdalena kissed Paulina’s head to signify
she understood. “Think happy thoughts today and put on the dress I
brought you.”

“Really, Mags, I have some dressy clothes of
my own.” Well, not quite dressy, but presentable enough for a
business meeting.

“Humor me.”

As Paulina slipped into the sheath, she could
appreciate the soft copper colored silk flowing over her skin. It
made her think of a man’s hands touching her.

“What’s wrong? You flushed like you
accidentally saw some porn.”

Paulina sat to slide on her shoes. “I was
just thinking.”

“About?” A hesitation, then, “Spill it,
girl.” Sometimes all of the sisters, not just the twins, had a
sixth sense about each other.

Paulina looked into Magdalena’s eyes. They,
too, were the same hazel, though Mags’ were almond shaped. “I miss
having sex. There I said it out loud.”

“Ah.” Magdalena took Paulina’s hands in hers.
“It’s been three years. Donnie wouldn’t want you to live like a
nun.”

No, he wouldn’t. Once, when they were drawing
up wills and designating the guardianship of their kids, they’d
talked about what they’d hope for each other if one of them died.
Donnie, big, macho and protective as hell, had said,
Don’t mope
over me, baby. Go on with your life.

“No, Donny wouldn’t want that. But Nia
does.”

Her twin had not moved past her grief—and
loyalty—to Peter, Donnie’s twin, since their accident three years
ago. Paulina had to tiptoe around her in order to go forward, even
making changes in the business. Paulina certainly couldn’t confess
her desire to be with another man.

Magdalena kept hold of her hands. Two years
older than Paulina, this sister was the most worldly of any of
them, having gone to Harvard Business School and then building a
wildly successful career in venture capitalism. “Honey, we all know
Nia is in a different place from you. And we respect her timeline
in getting over the grief. But you can’t let her hold you
back.”

“That’s not the only thing.” Even when she
shrugged, the silk caressed her. “I never go anywhere to meet men.
I work with them all day, but can’t get involved with my employees.
There’s nobody to date.”

“Then take up hobbies. Join a gym.”

Standing, Paulina looked in the mirror. At
five-eight, her figure was full, but muscular and toned. “I don’t
need a gym. I do physical labor every day.”

“Let me think on this.”

Drawing back, Paulina checked her watch. “I
have to be in town in half an hour.”

“My driver’s waiting for us. I can take you
to Armstrong Associates.”

Paulina’s whole body softened. “My rich,
beautiful sister. Have I thanked you enough for coddling us the
last three years?”

“Hush. No need. I love you, Paulie.
Always.”

“And I love you.”

Paulina was still thinking about Magdalena
when she arrived at 16 Park Avenue. After she got out of the car,
she stood and stared up at the chrome and glass building. Befitting
an architect, it had interesting peaks and angles that the April
sun sparkled off of. She wondered what this new architect would be
like. Most of the professionals she worked with on a job had
preferred to deal with Donnie, and were respectful to her, but
Paulina had been in charge since her husband died and together with
Nia, ran their contracting business. She still wasn’t used to
making deals.