Blazing Fear

by Leisl Leighton

  ‘Flynn? Are you with me?’ Something flashed in his eyes and he winced. Prita was holding a pen light in her hand and was flicking it in and out of his eyesight.

  ‘Hurts,’ he managed.

  Her frown furrowed deeper—he really wished he could wipe that away. He hated when she frowned. He didn’t want her to have to worry about anything, let alone him. Yet, ironically, he seemed to be the cause of more of her frowns in the last month than at any time previously. Hadn’t he yelled at her earlier today? Over what? It seemed unimportant now. All that mattered was she was here. It was all he wanted. Had no idea just how much he needed her with him until now.

  ‘Nat, can you get my doctor’s bag and the first aid kit from the truck? They should have some salt tablets and also some ice packs.’ Nat ran off and Prita held the water to his mouth again. ‘Just small sips.’ She let him take a small sip and then took the bottle away, waiting for a few moments before she let him have another sip. The water was even more heavenly than before.

  ‘What can I do, Doc?’ Reid asked.

  ‘Just keep holding him. I want to get some salt into him first before we move him, then we need to get him back home and keep him cool and hydrated. I might need to get you to help me move him into the bath. It all depends on if this is simply dehydration or if he does have a touch of heat stroke as well.’ Her brow furrowed more deeply as she looked at him and then looked around the site of the fire again.

  Nat ran back with the things Prita had asked for. ‘Gees, this is heavier than the last time I had to pick it up.’

  ‘Yes, I told them to stock some extra first aid essentials,’ Prita said, taking it from her and cracking open the lid. He watched her, the way her ponytail swung along her shoulders, the efficient way she organised everything, the care and worry in her eyes as she looked up at him.

  He loved how much she cared for people. Loved how much she cared for him. He just loved her.

  Whoa!

  He swayed as the thought hit him square in the solar plexus.

  ‘Flynn?’

  Prita quickly pulled out some sachets, tore off the end of one and upended it into a bottle of water, gave it a shake then put it to Flynn’s lips. ‘Here. You need to drink this. Just small sips. Easy. Easy.’

  He stared at her, unable to do anything but what she said.

  ‘He’s worse,’ Reid said.

  ‘Yeah, we need to get him back home now. If I can’t get this under control, we might need to send for the air ambulance.’

  ‘No,’ he managed to say. ‘I’m fine.’ There was no way he was going back to the hospital. He wasn’t leaving CoalCliff. Especially not with a madman running around setting fires and endangering Prita. He had to stay here and protect her. There was no way he was going to lose another woman he loved.

  And he did. Love her. There was no denying it despite the chasm that had just opened at his feet, threatening to swallow him whole.

  He loved Prita.

  He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about it. Didn’t even know if he could do anything about it—he’d been pretty shit to her earlier. Then he’d gone and lost his shit in front of everyone. He was no prize, that was certain. He didn’t even know if he could be a prize. There was his promise to Anna—although, in this moment, he was thinking maybe he’d got that wrong. Maybe he’d done her a disservice. Anna would never have asked him to sacrifice his happiness in memory of her.

  Whatever the case, he couldn’t let anything happen to Prita. She was too important.

  She was talking to him now, telling him what he needed to do to get better. ‘Okay, Doc,’ he interrupted her, his voice barely above a harsh whisper. ‘Take me home.’

  Chapter 26

  Prita watched Flynn carefully in the ute on the way back to his house. There was a tightness in her chest—a tightness that was probably due to the fact she’d gone out into a fire zone and breathed in the fresh smoke of a recently extinguished bushfire. As a doctor, she would have chided a patient for doing the same after the injury done to her lungs in the house fire, but she couldn’t ignore the need to help the community she was now a part of, whether some people in the community didn’t want her there or not.

  None of that mattered now. All that mattered was Flynn. Taking care of Flynn.

  She’d thought she understood, but she’d had no idea the trauma he’d held inside himself all these years. How on earth he managed to keep it at bay while fighting this fire was beyond her. He was strong. So strong. Stronger than he gave himself credit for. Or any of them for that matter.

  How had he borne it all these years? Especially during fire season when the hell of what he’d been through, the freshness of his loss, threatened every day to come rushing back at him just like the fires had done that terrible summer. He was traumatised and had never sought help and she’d just made it worse for him by challenging him, throwing his loss in his face, and making him feel he needed to come down here to prove something. He could have killed himself.

  Idiot.

  She was such an idiot. What kind of doctor did that to a person? No, scratch that. What kind of person did that to a person? Let alone the person you loved more than you loved yourself.

  And she did. She loved him so horribly much. More than she ever thought she was capable of loving a person. She loved Carter, but that was different. This was deeper, harder, closer to pain than the love of a parent to a child. It was the kind of love that called to a person and didn’t let go of them until they’d given themselves up to it fully and wholeheartedly. It was a scary kind of love. The kind of love she wanted to grab with both hands and never let go of.

  She ran her hand over Flynn’s hair, then, knowing nobody was looking, bent to kiss him on the forehead. His eyes fluttered open and his gaze caught hers. She didn’t look away. Left herself open to him, so he could see what was in her heart. If he didn’t want it, she would deal with that. It would hurt—it would probably break her. She’d let him into the place in her she’d locked away when her mama died and Papa sent her away. But what was done was done and there was no point shying away from it now.

  She loved him.

  She wanted to tell him.

  But he didn’t want to hear.

  So she would simply show him by caring for him and when he was better, when he was on his way to a true recovery, she’d walk away if that’s what he needed from her.

  The thought made her want to scream to the sun and the moon and tear at her hair and cry and cry and cry. But she did none of those things. ‘Close your eyes,’ she whispered, unable to stop herself from stroking his hair away from his forehead. He shook his head, his mouth trembling open as if he wanted to say something to her. As if he was asking her something. There was a softness in his eyes—a wanting, an acceptance, an apology.

  An apology?

  He wasn’t the one who needed to apologise. But she couldn’t say that here. She put a finger over his lips and shook her head. ‘Shh, don’t speak. Save your energy.’

  His lips stilled and then moved again, kissing her fingers. The sensation—soft, warm lips moving against her skin—sent a shiver of electricity from the point of contact, tingling in her breasts and centring low in her body. She knew she shouldn’t, knew it would probably make everything worse, but she’d been holding back so much worry, and her relief was too big a thing to deny. As was her want. Her need.

  She bent over him and placed her mouth where her fingers had just been, gentle, caring, tender, moving over his lips with the softest of pressures, waiting for him to stiffen, to deny, to give her the sign she knew she deserved. Instead, his lips softened under hers, moved a little, clung. He was so weak, the movement so slight, but it was the most seismic kiss of her entire life.

  A kiss to move worlds.

  He wasn’t denying her. Wasn’t pushing her away. She wasn’t sure if it was simply because he was grateful, or because he felt something more and was accepting it. Or perhaps he was still too delirious to truly be aware of
what he was doing. She couldn’t read anything into it. Could she?

  She leaned back a little. There was pain in his eyes, but they were clear and full of a heat that had burned her so fully when they’d made love.

  He’d forgiven her for what she’d thrown in his face.

  But was forgiveness all this was?

  She couldn’t ask him. Not now. Not with Nat and Reid in the car—she was aware of Nat’s gaze on them. Had become aware of it while her lips lingered on Flynn’s. She should have pulled away but she didn’t care. She needed to touch him, to kiss him, to make certain he knew she cared deeply for him and would make certain he was healthy and safe. She kept it light—she had no expectations of him. All that mattered was that her kisses, her passion—their shared passion—had helped him before. It was all that mattered right now.

  She rubbed her brow and took a deep, careful breath, aware of the ache in her chest, an ache that maybe wasn’t completely about her lungs being tired by the day’s exertions.

  ‘You okay?’

  She looked down at him, surprised by the question, surprised to see his gaze on her, the worry lines on his brow matching hers as she noted the dryness of his skin, the shallowness of his breaths. ‘You don’t need to worry about me,’ she said.

  ‘Sorry.’ He swallowed hard, white lines marring the skin around his mouth. ‘I’m sorry.’

  She blinked back tears and shook her head. ‘Me too.’

  His gaze met hers, clung and even as she damped another cloth and placed it on the back of his neck in an effort to cool him down, he did not break from that gaze and neither did she. All the way back to his house.

  Reid pulled up outside the house and with Nat’s assistance, they got a still trembling Flynn out of the ute and up the stairs. Barb came running down the path from the corrals—Chandra had obviously done what she’d asked of him, thank goodness. It had surprised her when he’d turned up with Vivaan just as she was about to head off. She’d tensed, prepared for another scene, but he’d completely surprised her when he’d said he and Vivaan were there to help. And he hadn’t baulked when Barb wrangled him and Vivaan into helping with the kids and horses.

  She’d have to thank him later.

  ‘Where are the kids?’ Prita asked as Barb ran up the stairs behind them. She knew her papa would keep Carter safe, but she was still worried.

  ‘They’re with Diarmuid and Lisa and Connie and the others. They’re being kept busy feeding the horses and keeping Charlie and Farrah out of trouble. What can I do here?’

  ‘We need to get him cooled down and hydrated.’

  ‘Good. Right.’ Barb opened the front door. ‘There’s some bags of ice in the chest freezer. Will that help?’

  Prita nodded.

  ‘I’ll get them.’ Nat relinquished her hold on Flynn’s other side, allowing Prita to take her place and ran off up the path to the main building.

  ‘Mum?’ Flynn said as Barb opened the front door. ‘Where’s Aaron?’

  ‘He’s with Diarmuid and Lisa and the others looking after the horses. Tilly and Carter are there too. They’re all fine. Diarmuid’s been telling them stories about Prita when she was younger and singing them songs while they waited for the all clear.’ She smiled briefly at Prita. ‘Our doc here was quite the handful from the sounds of things.’

  Prita groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘He told the story about the sausage, didn’t he?’

  Barb snorted a laugh. ‘He sure did.’

  ‘I have to hear that story,’ Reid said.

  ‘Not if I have anything to say about it,’ Prita said, resettling Flynn’s arm on her shoulder as they made it through the door. ‘Straight to the bathroom,’ she said as Barb and Reid hesitated.

  Barb held the doors open as Prita and Reid moved Flynn forward. Flynn’s head flopped a little as they walked around the couch and then lifted again when Prita said, ‘Flynn, stay with me.’

  He nodded drunkenly and looked up, seeming to start in surprise. ‘Mum. Why are you here?’

  ‘I’m looking after my boy. Where else would I be?’

  ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘Yes, you will be.’

  As Barb held the bathroom door open, Prita said, ‘We need to get some fluids in him—some juice would be good as well as water.’

  ‘I’ll get it.’ Barb rushed back up the hall towards the kitchen.

  ‘Do you want me to undress him?’ Reid asked as they staggered inside. ‘You could go out and help Mum.’

  She understood what Reid was asking, but she’d seen Flynn naked and wasn’t shying away from that now. ‘The faster we get him into the bath, the better for him.’

  ‘Wouldn’t the shower be quicker?’

  ‘It would, but I need to get him off that knee and have a look at it too.’

  ‘Okay.’

  They lowered Flynn to the stool in the corner. Prita turned the cold tap on in the bath and then together, they undressed Flynn to his underwear. Everything was dripping wet with sweat, but his skin was dry and the heat that radiated from him was scorching. It wasn’t a good sign. She might still have to call the air ambulance if they couldn’t get him cooled and hydrated quickly. ‘Let’s get him into the bath.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Reid bent and lifted Flynn over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, then, muscles straining, lowered Flynn into the still filling bath with incredible gentleness. She’d known Reid was fit from all his rock climbing and x-sports TV show, but Flynn was taller and wider across the shoulders, more heavily muscled than Reid was, yet Reid had picked him up and placed him down as gently as a baby. The strength it took for Reid to do that was extraordinary. Almost superhuman. She knew what he’d gone through over a year ago when he’d come back home, but it came to her now that his strength wasn’t just in body, it was in soul.

  That kind of strength was a family trait. Flynn had it in spades. It was both good and bad. She hoped Flynn could work it into something good. Something that could help him face his trauma rather than hide from it.

  Reid glanced at her as he sat back on his haunches and swished the water over Flynn’s dirty, hot body. ‘He’s not okay, is he?’ From the look on Reid’s face, she knew he wasn’t talking about the physical issue in front of them. ‘What can we do to help?’

  It hit her anew how lucky they all were to have family like that—people who knew you inside and out and would do anything for you. Her eyes prickled and she rubbed the threatening tears away and knelt to help Reid swish the water over Flynn until the tub filled enough to cover him. ‘That is a bigger question I can’t answer right now.’

  ‘But you can help him?’

  ‘I don’t know. Not if he doesn’t want to be helped.’

  ‘I get that.’ His gaze met hers and it was agonising. He’d obviously been aware his uncle—more brother and best friend than uncle—was in pain, but despite everything he’d tried to do since coming back, he’d been unable to help Flynn through the trauma he still held onto with an iron grip.

  She touched Reid’s arm. ‘For now, let’s just face what’s in front of us. The rest can wait.’

  He nodded and stared down at the water, then began to cup his hands to wet down Flynn’s hair. ‘Cool him down and hydrate him.’

  ‘Yes. If I had a saline drip, that would help too.’ A stupid wish given she’d lost all her stocks in the fire and was waiting for the order she’d put in just that morning to be delivered later in the week. ‘But for now, we’ll work with what we’ve got.’

  ‘We’ve got that.’

  She shot him a surprised look.

  ‘Flynn took to heart what you said last year in that talk you gave about being so far away from proper medical treatment and did a full stock up and made it mandatory that everyone working here did our first aid and CPR. I already had mine, plus some field training I did with an army unit, so I know how to put in a canula and start a drip and a few other basics. I have a bunch of stuff here that I was going to bring down to the cottage to
day as a surprise for your opening tomorrow.’

  ‘You have saline?’

  ‘Yep. When Nat comes back, I’ll go get it.’

  ‘You’re a godsend.’

  He looked down at Flynn who was looking more restful, eyes closed, lids looking strangely purple-translucent in the half-light coming in through the closed bathroom shutters, his five o’clock shadow dark against his pale skin. ‘Flynn’s the godsend.’

  ‘Yes. He is.’

  ‘He thinks that about you too.’

  She made a little snorty noise and his gaze rose to hers, curious. ‘I’m not sure he does.’

  ‘If you believe that, you’ve got rocks in your head. He loves you. Everyone with eyes can see it.’

  ‘He can’t. He doesn’t want to.’

  His head dipped down and he stared at his uncle. ‘I know trauma. I shoved mine away for as long as I could, too afraid to do anything about addressing it. Nat was the one who helped me to see what I was doing was self-destructive and ruining everything I’d ever wanted in my life. I’m not saying you and Flynn are the same, but you’ve both got trauma in your past and I think you both need to deal with it. Maybe you could help each other do just that.’

  She stared at him then chuckled. ‘Since when did you become Dr Phil?’

  He snorted. ‘Dr Phil has nothing on me.’

  ‘No, he’s less pushy.’

  He winked. ‘Pushiness is a Findlay/Stratton trait.’

  ‘I’ve noticed that.’

  ‘We’re also good at holding close those we care about.’ He put his hand over hers, stopping her so that her fingers brushed over Flynn’s wide shoulder, the skin hot—not as hot as before—under her touch. Reid’s grip was gentle and strong, but it wasn’t his touch that held her fingers in place, it was the sensation prickling over her from that small point of contact with Flynn’s bare skin. She hid a shiver as she let her gaze slide up to meet Reid’s.

  ‘We all want you to stay. We need you, Doc. But most of all, Flynn needs you. And I think you need him. Whatever is going on with you and Chandra and your house burning down and Bob Thompson and Doc Simpson being arseholes, none of it matters in the face of that. I didn’t realise that until I faced up to how I felt about Nat. Not that the shit just magically went away. I had to work to make that happen, and still do the work every day. But loving Nat and her loving me, it all makes it worthwhile. I want that for Flynn. I think you can give that to him. I think you can be the person he turns to when everything else is shit and who lifts him up. Because I know he’ll do that for you too. He can’t do anything else. He’s a Findlay.’