by Annie O'Neil
Taking advantage of Liesel’s faraway thoughts, Jack jumped in. “You’re right about me, you know,” he began, then quickly qualified, “to an extent.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It’s not meant to.” His voice softened. “Look, I didn’t join the fire service because of a great calling to be macho and fight against Mother Nature’s fiery wrath. She’s a powerful force and I can assure you I take every precaution available to me. I want to live as much as the next guy.” And he meant it. Looking into Liesel’s eyes, her emotions laid bare before him, he knew in his heart he would do everything in his power to stay safe for her.
“Then why? Why do you do it?”
“The truth?”
“Yeah. That’s what we’re doing here, isn’t it?” Liesel couldn’t keep a bite of punchiness from her voice. It wasn’t as if she had just bared her soul to him or anything!
“I joined because my mother died in a horrible barn fire when I was a kid and while everyone around me was doing everything in their power to put the fire out, I ran round the back of the barn to see if I could get my pony out. My mother ran in front. I’ll never know if she was going in for me, the horses or both. Either way, my idiot move...” He cleared his throat and punched some air back into the pillows before continuing. “Since then, I’d always thought if I’d known what to do—had had some training—she would still be alive today.”
Liesel’s mouth went dry, her fingers covering her lips as she nodded at him to carry on. Jack knew loss as well as she did. Horrible, gut-wrenching, life-changing loss.
“Surely, though, the CFS was there.”
“That’s just it!” Passion ignited his words. “They weren’t! There weren’t enough volunteers, or they were out doing something else—I don’t know. It doesn’t matter now—they just weren’t there.”
“And you’re trying to make up for it by running the Engleton CFS station?”
“In part. I can never make up for it. Not in my father’s eyes.”
“What does that mean?”
“He blames me. Holds me responsible for her death.”
“What? Surely not. You said you were only a boy.”
“She went into the barn and I wasn’t there to stop her.”
“You can’t think he blames you for that, though?”
His father had been in a rage when he’d joined the CFS cadets straight after his mother’s funeral. He’d never seen him so angry. Asked him straight-out what good he thought learning about fires would do him now—now that the damage had been done. It hadn’t been an outright accusation. But it had been enough. “It’s complicated. But losing my mother—well, he’s never been the same. His grief consumed him. I swore I wouldn’t let that happen to anyone else if I could help it.”
Those clear blue eyes of his tore at her. How Jack spoke about all this without crying was beyond her. It explained his drive, his ambition with the CFS. She reached across and gave one of his hands a squeeze. “If what I’ve seen is anything to go by, I know you’ll do your best.”
“That’s kind of you, Liesel, but my best doesn’t seem to stretch far enough. If I was proper boyfriend material, I’d find something else to do—something that didn’t scare the daylights out of you.”
“I can’t imagine you giving up the CFS.”
“Nor can I.” Jack hung his head, shaking it as if he was trying to find a way out of the situation.
A fug of gloom hung between them as Liesel’s upper teeth gripped her lower lip then shot it out again, her thoughts fighting for order. Being in the CFS was every bit a part of Jack as nursing was in her. She couldn’t believe for a second he’d ask her to give up nursing, so she could hardly ask him to give up his profession. Cassie had already called her kettle black anyhow. Accountants and IT guys weren’t her style. Men on the front line, helping people in times of need, were. And that was Jack to a T.
The truth was, he had a lot of irons in the fire and she just couldn’t risk putting herself and Liam through the heartache of another loss. She pressed her hands onto her face, hoping it would help silence the roar of blood rushing through her ears.
Friends only?
They had such a connection!
She peeked at him through her fingers. Just a glimpse of that tousled blond hair and her tummy went all fizzy. She couldn’t believe how powerful an effect he had on her, and now she’d have to give it all up?
She sucked in a sharp breath, held it, then made her decision.
If only he didn’t smell so good! And feel so good. And—
Stop. Giving up Jack Keller was going to be a mammoth task, but she had to find the strength to do it.
“It sounds a lot to me like we’ve both got some demons to tackle.”
“You’re not wrong there, love.”
Love. Boyfriend material. He was making this tough!
“So-o-o—it’s probably best that we call whatever this is a day and just be friends.”
* * *
If she’d slapped him, he couldn’t have felt a more vicious sting. It was all Jack could do not to give her a disbelieving double take.
“Are you kidding me?” He gestured at the rumpled sheets, their discarded clothes, himself. “After last night? You want to just be friends?”
“No. I want to be a lot more than friends—but I just don’t think it’s possible. Not for me. Not for Liam.”
“Liam?” He stopped before he stuck his foot in it. Of course the little boy factored into this whole thing. Whatever it was. Nothing, from the looks of things. He felt as if he was splitting in two. “I think Liam’s great! You can’t doubt the fact that I care for him, would look after him.” And you. I’d look after you.
“I believe you—I do.” She pulled her gaze away from his, obviously as unhappy as he was but determined to stick to her guns. “I just have to make sure he has someone in his life who will be there for him. And I— We—” She stopped, visibly wrestling with her words. “We need someone in our lives whose life is straightforward, who we can rely on.”
He felt his nerve endings go dull with sadness. Sadness that she was right. She had the same clarity his father did. She saw him for what he was: a man on a self-imposed mission. And until he saw that mission through, he wasn’t the man she wanted—or needed—in her life.
“And I’m not that guy.”
“Not right now, Jack. I wish to God you were, but you’re not.”
“Friends?” He put out a hand, wishing it was to caress her but knowing the best he would get was a handshake.
“Friends.”
CHAPTER NINE
“YOU GOING TO the Harvest Festival?”
Cassie was using her teasing voice. The one that was saying one thing and meaning another. Since the great unsaid involved Jack, Liesel didn’t feel like playing. The past few weeks of “just being friends” had been tough. She had feelings for him. Big, huge, undeflatable feelings, and this whole being sensible thing was turning out to be harder than she’d thought. Particularly when anytime her thoughts veered in a certain tall, blond and incredibly gorgeous direction her insides turned into happyville. What a disaster.
“That’s the plan.”
“Planning to meet up with any special friends?”
Liesel suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
“Sorry, Cass. Did you catch that? Do you mind...?” She gestured at the radio playing on her friend’s kitchen counter.
“What?” Her friend flicked the volume up a notch and leaned in to hear the announcer.
“That’s right, folks. In case you haven’t heard, you’ll want to avoid the high street in Engleton. Looks like one of the vintners is out of luck as a lorry has lost its entire load and taken out quite a few other vehicles—”
; “Switch it off.”
“I thought you wanted to hear it.”
No. This could not be history repeating itself.
“Jack was just heading into Engleton. He messaged me to see if I wanted to meet him for milk shakes.”
“Ooh! Still keeping in touch with Mr. Pants-on-Fire, are we?”
“Cass, you’re not hearing me!” Liesel heard her voice rising. “He could be in that crash!” Panic was setting in. This was exactly what had happened with Eric. Exactly how she had learned he was in trouble that day. Had her pulse raced this fast? Had her heart lodged as high in her throat? She couldn’t remember. All that mattered now was that Jack could be in trouble and she could help. This time she wasn’t going to stand by and wait to hear what was happening. She was going to be there.
* * *
Jack hadn’t lost consciousness but the past few seconds had played out as if they’d been hours.
He’d pulled into traffic behind a large truck hauling grapes from the harvest and remembered thinking the heavy vehicle was taking the corner into town a bit fast for such a huge load, and then—jackknife. He’d pulled the emergency brake and whipped the wheel round in a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree safety turn—but he’d had to pull in sharply to avoid oncoming traffic and had tipped his truck. The passenger side of the truck had seen better days, but he was all right.
Jack unclipped his belt, bracing himself as he did. He’d have to climb out of the cab. His truck was on its side but he was unharmed. He’d had a narrow escape. From the sounds coming through his open window, not everyone had been so lucky.
* * *
“He’ll be fine with us.” Cassie held Liam on her hip and gave Liesel a grim smile. “Go.”
Liesel swept her son’s fringe aside and gave him a quick smooch on the forehead. He was why she was doing this. There was no chance she was going to raise him to believe you had to be fearful of life. Life was about making the most of it—the good and the bad. Even if it did make your blood run cold with fear at times. Jack had given her strength to face her fears and conquer them.
“Just friends” or not—it was her turn to help.
* * *
“Mr. Jones, it’s Jack—Jack Keller. Can you hear me?”
The front of the farmer’s truck might as well have not even existed—it had crumpled into nothing. The haulage truck must have caught it head-on from the looks of things, and now Mr. Jones’s legs were trapped in the lower cavity of his cab. His air bag may have saved his life, he had a pulse, but Jack wasn’t so sure about his legs.
“Help! Over here!”
The call was thin, a child’s.
Jack looked up from the unconscious form of Mr. Jones to the car on the other side of the haulage truck, a blue estate car. Flames were shooting through the sides of the bonnet. And they weren’t taking their time about growing.
He felt something wet on his face and swatted it away. The sky was as blue as they came today—it couldn’t be rain.
“Help!” The child’s cry came again.
“What do you need me to do?”
Liesel. It was the salve he needed to bring order to the blur of chaos threatening to engulf him.
“You came!”
“Of course I came. That’s what friends do, right?” Worry threaded through her eyes, but so did something else. Something stronger than the friendship they had shaken hands on those two long months ago.
“Liesel... I’m sorry, I...” He scanned the crash site. This wasn’t the time. “Can you stay with Mr. Jones? I’ve got to run—”
He watched as Liesel’s face turned a ghostly shade of white.
“Jack, your forehead.” Her voice wavered as she spoke and he watched her physically regroup before continuing. “You’ve got to get that seen to before you do anything.”
He lifted his hand to his forehead again, the smear of blood on his palm helping him to connect the dots.
No. Children in burning cars came first.
* * *
Liesel’s mind went into overdrive.
Head wounds bled a lot. Common knowledge. It didn’t necessarily mean he was concussed, but Jack had definitely looked confused when he’d seen her.
Her eyes made a quick scan of the scene, as if she were making an incident report. They were both trained in mass casualty management, but if Jack had been concussed during the crash he definitely should not be taking part in the rescue efforts. But timing was just as crucial. Seconds counted in a scenario like this.
Establishing scores for each of the cases needed to come automatically, otherwise lives could be lost.
Extreme cases first, secondaries put into order in a temporary triage unit until additional support arrived. Jack needed to be on that list and he... Where was he? He had been standing there just a second ago.
Flames leaped from the car on the far side of the haulage truck. She saw a figure running toward the vehicle—a familiar athletic figure.
“My mummy’s stuck! Please can you help?” A little girl tugged at Liesel’s arm, pulling her in the direction of Engleton’s general store, now an open cavity. The haulage truck must have sideswiped the brick structure, taking the entire storefront along with it. Liesel shot a backward glance toward Jack, but thick smoke blocked her view. Her heart leaped to her throat. If she wanted any more proof that he was the wrong man to fall in love with, she had it right here in front of her. Love? Her skin began to feel clammy, the buzz of indecision drowning out her thoughts.
The insistent tug of little fingers on her hand brought her round. Her teeth clenched in frustration. This was the nature of their work—hers and Jack’s—their individual callings. It wasn’t about being a hero; it was about saving lives, and right now lives were at stake. Clarity hit her like a lightning bolt. This was precisely why Jack felt he couldn’t have her in his life. Love made you lose focus and lives were lost.
“Where’s your mum, sweetheart?”
“In here.” The little girl tugged her across a pile of bricks and a cascade of tinned food that must’ve been on display at the front of the store.
A man staggered over the pile of debris, heading toward the street, holding an arm close to his chest. From the limp manner in which it hung, there was little doubt it had been broken. At least the bone hadn’t pierced through the skin. Infection was often a compound fracture’s worst enemy. She turned toward him to offer help.
“Over here.” She felt the sharp tug on her hand again. Right away Liesel saw the girl’s mother prostrate, face down on the floor, lower limbs trapped under a tall grocery shelving unit. She immediately dropped to the floor.
Liesel’s fingers instinctively located the woman’s pulse along the side of her throat. Thready. The woman was lucky she and her daughter hadn’t been directly under the shelving. They could’ve been killed in an instant. Even so, it wasn’t looking good.
“I can’t feel anything.” The woman’s voice was hardly a whisper.
“Don’t move your head, it’s very important.” She lowered her own head to be as close to the floor as possible.
“My name is Liesel. I’m a nurse. We’re going to get you out of here, all right?” As she said the words she felt her strength grow. She was a nurse and she knew how to help. This was what she’d been trained for. She was prepared for this.
“What’s your name?”
“Marilyn.”
“Marilyn, that’s a beautiful name.” Liesel took in the pool of blood forming around the woman’s head. Could be a head injury or, more likely, a broken nose. She threw a quick look over her shoulder toward the woman’s daughter. She shouldn’t see this. “Darling, do you mind doing me a favor?” The little girl nodded, desperate to be of some use. Liesel’s eyes tore across the front of the store. Astonishingly, the structure of the building seemed
sound. “Do you see that fire extinguisher there? I need you to find an adult outside to help carry it to the fireman, all right?”
“Which one?”
Jack. He needs it.
“There’s only one out there now, darling, all right?” My Jack. “You’re a clever girl. Can you do that for me?” Liesel knew it was heavy—too heavy for a little girl. If she couldn’t find anyone to help, she’d have to drag it.
Liesel tilted her head up to listen for the telltale whine of sirens. Someone surely would have responded by now. They had to know at the station, if the call had gone out on regular radio, right?
Then again, the local CFS was made up of volunteers, except for Jack and he was already here. Her heart twisted with a need to ensure he was all right. She clenched her eyes shut.
Focus, Liesel.
“Marilyn, I’m going to try to shift these shelves, all right?”
“I can’t feel anything—I can’t move.”
“As little movement as possible is a good thing right now.” Liesel prayed her words wouldn’t have any lasting impact. Worst-case scenario? The woman could end up a paraplegic. Best case? Some nasty bruising.
If she’d had time to cross all her fingers, she would have, but right now she needed to relieve the pressure off Marilyn’s spine.
Liesel scanned the shop to see if there was anyone left in the building who could help. Deserted. The man with the broken arm must have been the last one out of the store. The unit wasn’t massively heavy, but she was petite and it would take some effort. The longer the shelves pressed into Marilyn’s body, the more profound her injury could be. One false move...
She grounded her feet as best she could at the corner of the unit. Her hands gripped the sides of the shelves, stomach muscles tightened, and with a big inhalation of breath she began to lift.
* * *
Jack barely took the time to register the figure of the young boy at the side of the road. He knew the lad wouldn’t leave with his mother trapped in the car. He wouldn’t have, either. The side of the car had been struck by the swing of the second haulage trailer, landing the vehicle perilously close to the milk bar’s oil storage tank. The door wouldn’t budge and neither would her ankle. Flames soared from the bonnet of the car to the wooden veranda.