by Cat Johnson
Screaming both for help and in pain from the beam landing on his left thigh, it seemed like hours dragged by instead of the few moments he’d remained trapped. Luckily, the other firefighters had rescued him before the fire did more than lick at his boots.
Although he could’ve walked away from firefighting for good, he’d refused to do that. He wouldn’t give in to fear. Fighting fires didn’t scare him . . . except when that fire happened inside a house.
His leg throbbed in time to his increased heartbeat at the thought of history repeating itself.
“You don’t have to go,” Dusty said. “It’s a volunteer fire department.”
“Yeah, and I’m a volunteer.” He slipped the beeper back into his pocket. “But I won’t go this time. I can’t let you finish the fencing by yourself.”
“Shit, I can fix those holes with one hand behind my back. Don’t let that stop you from goin’ to the fire.” He gestured toward Nick’s leg. “That should stop you from goin’.”
Nick wouldn’t let his leg stop him from doing anything, especially if someone needed him. A house fire meant someone needed him. “I gotta get up anyway. My ass is getting cold on the ground.”
Dusty rose first, then offered a hand to Nick. Pride almost made him ignore it, but he knew the older man only wanted to help. He placed his hand in Dusty’s and let his friend pull him to his feet. His leg complained, but Nick gritted his teeth as always and pushed aside the pain.
“You sure you can handle the rest of the fencing by yourself?”
“Damn right, I’m sure. I might be close to sixty, but I can still do my job. Go fight that fire.”
Nick climbed into his horse’s saddle and turned Stormy toward home while he slipped his cell phone from the holder on his belt. He pushed a couple of buttons to call the fire chief, then lifted the phone to his ear.
“Hey, Nick,” Clay Spencer said.
“Where’s the fire, Clay? I’m out on my property and it might be quicker if I meet everyone there instead of going to the fire hall.”
“MacMillen place, County Road 1065. You know it?”
“Yeah. Is it bad?”
“Sounds like it. We’re pulling out of the fire hall now.”
“Be there as quick as I can.”
With a click of his tongue, he urged Stormy into a gallop. He did his best to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg. He couldn’t think about himself now. He had to help save the MacMillens’ home, if he could.
Nick could see the smoke while still miles from the house. “Shit,” he muttered. The whipping wind wouldn’t help the situation. He wished the dark clouds would let loose of the snow the meteorologists promised would fall tonight or tomorrow. Any little bit of precipitation would be appreciated.
Parking his pickup next to a dozen others that probably belonged to curious lookie loos, he gazed at the two-story house. Flames erupted from the upstairs windows. Right now, it appeared the fire burned only on the second floor of the house. Nick knew that could change in an instant and the entire house would be engulfed.
He grabbed his fire gear from his club cab and jogged over to the tanker where Quade struggled into his own gear. “You know what’s happening?” he asked as he dragged his turnout pants on over his jeans.
“First cold spell and an old electric heater.”
Quade didn’t have to explain anything else. Nick had seen the same thing happen many times. People often didn’t check heaters or fireplace chimneys or furnace filters before they used them for the first time. “Is everyone out of the house?”
“Yeah.” Quade settled his helmet on his head. “Their grandkids are visiting for Thanksgiving. I guess the little one left something inside. She won’t stop crying.”
Nick had heard the child’s crying but didn’t take the time to search out the source while putting on his gear. Now ready to help fight the fire, he glanced toward the sound to see Larry MacMillen holding a little girl who couldn’t be more than three. He tried to calm her, but she kept on crying and squirming against Larry while her little arms stretched toward the house.
It broke Nick’s heart to see her tears. He jogged over to where the MacMillens stood. Larry jerked his head in greeting. Nick reached out and lightly touched the little girl’s blond curls.
“Hey, sweetie, did you lose something?”
“Her stuffed dog,” Larry answered. “She doesn’t go anywhere without it. When the fire broke out, I grabbed her and ran out the door. I didn’t think about her toy.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Nick said in a soothing voice, still looking into the girl’s eyes and stroking her hair. “Your first priority was this precious bundle.” He smiled at her. “Maybe I can find your dog. Would you like that?”
Tears still filled her big blue eyes, but they didn’t run down her cheeks. She laid her cheek against her grandfather’s shoulder and nodded.
“Nick, you can’t look for it,” Larry said, his voice filled with concern. “It’s in one of the upstairs bedrooms.”
“Which one?”
“The one on the east side of the house. Nick, don’t!”
Ignoring the man’s plea, Nick hurried toward the house. Two streams of water battled the flames on the second floor. He hesitated a moment while assessing the situation. He could see flames through the windows on the west side of the house. If he hurried, he could find the toy in the east bedroom before the fire traveled that far.
The old terror ran through his body at the thought of entering a house fire. He refused to let it rule him. Putting on his helmet and mask, he entered the house.
Nick pushed past one of the firefighters, who grabbed at his arm, and ran up the stairs to the second floor. Smoke filled the hallway, making it difficult for Nick to see more than a couple of feet in front of him. The fire burned to his right. The charred walls and holes in the floor proved it wouldn’t take long for the conflagration to overtake the entire second floor.
He knew he had only moments to find the little girl’s toy and get out of there.
Nick opened the first door to find a bathroom. Cursing softly, he moved to the next door, which led into a bedroom. The thick smoke made it difficult to see. He stumbled over something on the floor and had to grab the bed’s footboard to keep from falling. He looked down to see a stuffed Dalmatian dog. Smiling that he’d found the toy so quickly, he scooped it up and slipped it inside his turnout coat.
His smile quickly faded when he turned toward the door. The fire had traveled even faster than he’d anticipated. It licked at the doorway, blocking his path. Nick would have to run directly through flames to get out of danger.
He ran from the bedroom into the hallway. The fire blazed all around him, even as the high-pressure water battled it. He flinched when a part of the ceiling came down around him. Keeping his head low, he made his way to the stairs, which now burned along with the rest of the second floor. Fear galloped up and down his spine again as he began the descent.
Nick had taken no more than three steps when the wood gave out beneath his feet. Instinct had him grabbing the handrail for support, which crumbled in his fist. He fell through the air and landed in a pile of charred wood with his left leg bent beneath him.
Pain shot through his leg from his ankle to his hip. He heard a shout before two firefighters came into his blurry view. One bent close enough so he could make out Clay’s concerned look through his face mask.
“Hang in there, buddy. We’ll get you out of here.”
Nick could barely breathe for the pain radiating through his leg and lower back, but he had to be sure that precious little girl got her toy. He gripped Clay’s arm to hold him in place before the fire chief moved away.
“Inside my . . . coat. Give it to . . . Larry’s gr-granddaughter.”
Spots swam before Nick’s eyes. He closed them and let the darkness overtake him.
3
Keely gently brushed Nick’s hair back from his forehead. Her heart clenched at the sight of his normall
y olive complexion now so pale. His dark eyelashes rested above his cheeks; his chest rose and fell with his slow breathing. The steady noises from the machines monitoring his condition comforted her. They told her Nick still lived.
People had come and gone all afternoon. Keely thought every one of the firefighters had come by to see how Nick fared. Many friends had dropped by, too, a lot of them female. Keely couldn’t help the jealousy that surged through her when one of those women touched Nick the way she did now.
She knew he used to date a lot. Rarely had a Friday or Saturday night passed without Nick bringing a hot woman into Boot Scootin’ to hang with other couples, shoot pool, feast on one of Dolly’s scrumptious steaks. That hadn’t happened much in the last year. He still came into the bar almost every weekend, but by himself.
No one had stopped by in the last ten minutes, leaving her alone with him. She knew he needed sleep more than anything to begin the healing process, but she wished he’d open his eyes to assure her that he truly would be fine.
A movement in the doorway drew Keely’s attention away from Nick. Larry MacMillen stepped into the room. Keely immediately rounded the end of Nick’s bed to give Larry a hug.
“Are you okay?” she asked after she released him. She kept her voice low so as not to disturb Nick.
“Yeah.” He blew out a heavy breath. “And no.”
“Martha’s okay? And the grandkids?”
“Everyone is fine, physically.”
“Your house?”
“Pretty much destroyed.”
Her heart hurt for his loss. She could only imagine how devastating it would be to lose her home and all the mementos. “I’m so sorry. Will you rebuild?”
Larry nodded. “I’ve already talked to my insurance agent and have a call in to Rye Coleman to see if he can work a new house into the Colemans’ schedule. He said their schedule didn’t matter, that they’d build my house even if they had to go without sleep to do it.”
Keely knew this wouldn’t be the first time the Coleman brothers put another person’s needs before their own. “Do you have a place to live?”
“Yeah, you know that new housing edition the Colemans are building that’s financed by James and Teanna Parker?”
“I know of it, but haven’t been by to look at it.”
“James called me before I came over here. The first house was completed last week. He said the last cleanup hasn’t been done yet, but he offered it to me rent free until our house is finished.”
Larry turned his head, but not before Keely saw the sheen of tears in his eyes. The people of Lanville always pitched in when someone needed help. That topped the list of many reasons why she loved the town. “That’s very kind of James.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat before looking at Nick in the bed. “How’s he doing?”
Keely glanced at Nick over her shoulder. “Better. He’s breathing easier. He has a broken ankle, slight concussion, strained back, and lots of bruises, but he’ll be fine.”
“Good.” Larry ran a hand through his hair. “He’s a hero, but also a fool.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You don’t know how he got hurt?”
Keely shook her head.
“Whitney was crying because I left her toy Dalmatian in the house. Nick ran inside to get it. Clay said Nick told him to make sure my granddaughter got her toy. That’s all he said before he passed out.”
Tears tightened Keely’s throat. She’d always known Nick to be a caring man, always ready to help a friend. She hadn’t known he could be so unselfish.
“He risked his life to make my granddaughter happy. I don’t know how I can ever repay him.”
Keely touched Larry’s arm. “He wouldn’t want you to repay him. That’s not why he went after the toy. He did it to make Whitney happy.”
“Did she get it?” Nick whispered in a raspy voice.
Keely hurried back to the side of Nick’s bed. She gripped his hand while peering into his face. She could still see pain in his eyes, but at least he’d awakened and could talk. “Hey, you. How do you feel?”
“Like the stairs collapsed under me.” Slowly, he turned his head toward Larry, who had moved to stand beside Keely. “Did your granddaughter get the dog?”
Larry nodded. “That was a foolish, generous thing you did, Nick.”
He shrugged a shoulder, then winced as if the movement caused him pain. “I didn’t want her to cry anymore.”
“She hasn’t let go of it since Clay gave it to her. It’s dirty and smells smoky, but Whitney doesn’t care.” Larry laid his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
Nick nodded once to acknowledge Larry’s gratitude. Keely clutched her hands together to keep from climbing on the bed with Nick to hold him. She’d pull all his pain into herself if she could.
Larry gave Nick’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll get out of here so you can rest. If you need anything—and I mean anything —you call me.”
“Will do. Thanks, Larry.”
Nick’s heavy eyelids proved he could barely keep them open. Keely wanted more than anything to stay but knew he’d fight sleep if she did. “I’d better go, too.”
He lifted his hand, palm up. “Thanks for being here.”
Keely laid her hand in his. “Half the town has already been here.”
“I kinda remember hearing conversation, but I’m not sure.”
“Dr. Brickman has been in a couple of times, and so have the nurses.”
He looked at their hands, still linked together, then back into her eyes. “Do you know when I can go home?”
Keely didn’t get the chance to tell Nick she had no idea before a man in a white coat entered the room. She couldn’t help smiling when she saw Donald Brickman’s wide grin and twinkling eyes.
“How’s the patient?” he asked.
“Not very patient,” Nick said, frowning. “When can I go home, Don?”
Donald Brickman’s smile didn’t fade a bit. “You’re going to be my guest for the night, Nick. You had some blood in your urine, which could mean a kidney contusion. I want to run more tests to make sure all your inner parts are working the way they’re supposed to.”
“Shit.”
“I’m glad you’re taking my announcement so well.” He retrieved Nick’s chart from the holder on the end of the bed and perused the top sheet. “Might as well settle back and get comfortable because you aren’t going anywhere until at least to-morrow.”
“How the hell am I supposed to get comfortable in a hospital bed?”
“That’s why we give you the good drugs.” Chuckling at his joke, he replaced the chart and walked around to the side of the bed opposite Keely. “No cracked ribs, but you’re going to be sore at least a week. That broken ankle means you’ll be off it for four to six weeks. It’s wrapped and iced now since the swelling needs to go down before it can be cast. I want to see you Friday so I can X-ray it again before I put the cast on it.”
“I can’t take care of my cattle with my foot in a cast.”
“You don’t worry about that,” Keely said, squeezing Nick’s hand. “Dusty will make sure everything gets done.”
“Dusty can’t do everything by himself.”
“I told you not to worry about it. You just concentrate on getting well.”
“Sounds like good advice to me, Nick,” Don said.
Nick’s frown deepened. “It’s a hell of a time for this to happen.”
“That’s what you get for being a hero.” Don unwrapped the stethoscope from the back of his neck. “Keely, I need to check him. Will you step outside?”
“Sure. I should go anyway so Nick can rest.” She squeezed his hand once more. “Do everything Dr. Brickman says to do, all right?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Keely glanced at Nick over her shoulder before she left the room. Halfway down the hall, she met up with Olive Collingsworth, Nick’s housekeeper. “How is Nick?” Olive asked, worry evident in her w
ide brown eyes.
“Grumpy.”
The worry in Olive’s eyes faded to be replaced with exasperation. “That’s Nick. He hates being helpless.”
Keely’s gaze passed over Olive’s short, salt-and-pepper hair. She had to be in her late fifties or early sixties by now. Olive had been a part of Nick’s family’s household for as long as she could remember, just like Dusty.
“I was supposed to leave tomorrow for Lubbock to visit my sister over the holiday,” Olive said. “I tried to call her to cancel, but she didn’t answer. Fool woman has a cell phone and never turns it on except when she wants to make a call.”
Keely pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Olive’s Cuban accent became more pronounced when she talked quickly. “Why would you cancel your trip?”
“I can’t leave Nick alone. He’ll do something stupid like try to work without me there to watch over him.”
Yes, he would. Keely knew that, too. But Olive didn’t have to worry about Nick being alone. Keely had no intention of allowing that. “Nick won’t be alone. I’ll take care of him.”
A smile spread across Olive’s lips, but disappeared as quickly as it formed. “How can you do that and still work?”
“I’m off until Sunday. Boot Scootin’ is always closed on Wednesday, and it’s closed Thursday since it’s Thanksgiving. So I’m only missing three normal working days anyway.”
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t hesitate to cancel, but my brother is coming. I haven’t seen him in two years.”
“Of course, I’m sure. You go visit with your family. I’ll make sure Nick is a good boy.”
“Thank you, Keely.” She reached over and squeezed Keely’s arm. “I love Nick like a son. I wouldn’t leave unless I knew someone would take care of him.”
“I’m sure he knows that.” She tugged the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder. “Dr. Brickman was with Nick when I left, but he’s probably through with his exam if you want to go on in. Nick is in room 238.”