A shaken lady grabs my gloved hand with both of hers. “Oh honey, you’re going to get us out of here, aren’t you?” Her eyes search my face.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Such a good boy.” Her face breaks as she pats my hand. “Your mama must be so proud of you.”
I push a smile onto my face and give her a nod.
“Anyone who can walk without assistance, I need you to file in an orderly fashion to the opening. Owens will help you down and out.”
Heids waves, poking her head through the large space her and Davies made, like she’s a tour guide on a tourist ride, not a busted bus leaking gas with two confirmed dead.
We try to make each situation a little less scary than we know it must be for the folks in them we come across.
I know all too well what it’s like to be on the other side of this.
“There you go, watch your step,” Tennison says softly behind me. I turn back to find her helping a hunched man, who’s a little shaky on his feet but managing, down the aisle of the bus.
My gaze snags on her face, sending my heart flinging against my ribs.
The old man glances between the two of us. “Huh.” He shakes his head, as Tennison hands him over to Owens. I do the same with a few passengers, and when we have all the able-bodied clear of the bus, we start lifting the less ambulatory folks out.
We do a two-person arm carry.
I hold out my hands for Tennison. She slides hers into mine and I close my hands around tight. Before Owens and Davies help a lady to her feet and into our firefighter-made movable chair.
“Hold on, honey. You give Cap’s muscles a squeeze and don’t let him go,” Owens says with a wink.
What has gotten into her today?
I step backward, Tennison steps forward. The little old lady clings to my biceps and Tennison’s jacket like her life depends on it. Being this old, if she should fall and break her hip, it absolutely could.
“Firefighter express, hold on,” Tennison says with a smile that is the first expression to claim her face since we arrived on scene that isn’t held down with worry or sadness.
I tamp down the need to toot like a goddamn train, but a half smile tugs over my face. A smile Tennison glances up in time to witness.
The resulting smile on her face almost makes me lose my grip on her fine hands in mine.
Christ, get it together, Milo.
We carefully traverse the bus steps and lower the lady onto a waiting gurney. The ambulance medics take over, and Tennison is tracking back for the bus before I have a chance to say...
I have no idea what, actually.
A voice clears behind me.
I turn back to find the man from before, his weathered face etched with mirth. He nods to Tennison as she steps back into the bus. “Make sure you marry that one, son.”
The hell?
I tug my helmet off, wiping my brow. “You mean my subordinate officer? With all due respect, probably not, sir.”
He simply chuckles and shakes his head.
“You think life cares about your rank? If you do, you’re more clueless than that guy.” He points to Davies, who is trying to shove the jaws into a side toolbox half their size.
“Dammit,” I say, glancing between the old man and my probie whose brain has left the scene, apparently. “Thanks for the advice, but I assure you, this time, it’s unwarranted.”
“Whatever you say,” he says as he fucking winks at me.
