With both boys flailing on his shoulders, monster Tank climbed into the snow fort that she’d built. Of all the nerve ...
Becky jumped at Maddy’s voice.
“We’re going in for the rescue. We need a diversion!” She and John were wrapped around each other, grinning, cheeks red from the cold.
“You hardly look ready for a rescue,” Becky replied with a half-smile. “You divert, I’ll go in.”
Laughing, they split apart. “I’ll approach from the back,” John suggested, suddenly all business. “Maddy, you sneak down around those rocks. Well, you can’t see them, but you know where I mean. Becky,” he pointed, “straight out on the beach. You’re the only one who can cause the kind of distraction we need,” he added with a grin.
She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Yes, captain.” She offered a mittened salute and turned, trying to jog out to the beach. Her waddling through the snow drifts would probably make Tank fall over laughing; perfect distraction.
She circled around until she was fairly certain she could pop up within view, but not too close to Tank’s lair. She could tell the moment he saw her. Both boys were climbing on him, apparently not trying too hard to escape. He slowly peeled them off and leaned over; gesturing with his hands for them to stay put. Then he turned and threw out his arms, letting out another terrifying snow monster roar.
Becky stood, shocked and immobilized, her heart slamming into action when he started running toward her. She looked wildly around at her options. It made sense to draw him away from his poor, helpless prisoners, so she started run-waddling down the beach.
She could hear him pounding in the snow behind her, and couldn’t help her own shriek when she looked back to see him close on her heels. She turned back, laughing and trying to make headway in the deep snow. So this is what it’s like to be blitzed by the linebacker.
She didn’t have a chance, of course, though she’d like to take him on in her sneakers and about five less layers. She’d give him a run for his money then.
His steps thudded right behind her and she felt his hands on her waist. She squealed and twisted before he brought her down in a pile of snow, rolling her until he had her good and truly pinned.
Becky lay there laughing, trying to catch her breath.
“Surrender,” he growled.
“Never!” she gasped back.
He got very close and repeated his request.
Their noses were almost touching. “I’m on a mission,” she protested. Tank lifted his head a bit, and they could hear the boys laughing and horsing around with John and Maddy. Becky grinned. “Mission accomplished.”
Tank smiled back, watching as the snowflakes started covering her cheeks. Becky shook her head back and forth. “My face is cold.”
He leaned close. “Want me to take care of those for you?”
Becky closed her eyes, and tried to breathe. “No?”
She could feel the cool air rush in when he lifted his head. She dared to open her eyes. “You don’t play fair.”
“I always play fair,” he replied with a grin. “I just play better.” The glint in his eye was as heart-stopping as his warm breath on her face.
Becky tried to draw a calming breath. It wasn’t easy with a Tank on top of her. “You have over a hundred pounds on me. How is that fair?”
“I figured closer to fifty.”
She tried to shove against his chest. “You’re a horrible snow monster!”
“I’m actually a very good snow monster. I have you pinned.”
“Yeah, about that,” Becky twisted. “You should move. You’re lucky there’s snow all around me.”
“You’re lucky there’s snow all around you. Although,” he added, looking around, “without it, I don’t think I’d be in this position. Without permission, that is.” He grinned wickedly then spun her around so that she was free to go.
She stayed a moment, perched on top of him. Looking down at the teasing gleam in his eye, she wanted to forget all her fears, lean down and warm up those perfect lips.
Becky brought her eyes back to his. He knew perfectly well what she was thinking. Her face warmed and she watched the snowflakes gather on his lashes. She never noticed how thick they were before. He blinked several times to clear them and she shifted so he could get up.
“Before you leave,” he cupped her shoulders without restraining her. His eyes lost their teasing and became very serious. “I want you to know that I want this, Becky - I want us - more than any job - more than anything.”
Her heart started pounding again.
“I’ll give you whatever time you need, but I’m not going away.” He stroked her cheek with his gloved finger and her face tingled. “You can be done with men. I’m good with that. In fact, I’d have to insist on it,” his eyes glinted through the snowflakes. “But don’t be done with me. We’re a good team. We could stay here in Clairmont - teach together.” He paused and ran his finger over her lips. “Raise a family together.”
He spun her around one more time, bracing himself as he looked down at her. “I love you, Becky.” He looked deeply into her eyes and Becky wanted to cry. Then he slowly leaned down and brushed her temple with his lips.
Becky didn’t trust her voice. How could she possibly respond? Who pours their heart out in a snowbank? She lay there, looking at him helplessly, longingly. He didn’t seem to mind that she couldn’t find anything to say. A moment later he jumped up and held out his hand to her.
Becky took it, wide-eyed and overwhelmed. He grinned and pulled her up, and they started back to the house. She walked along next to him, her mind spinning with what had just happened in the snow. When they reached the porch, Becky pushed ahead. Stepping to the top step, she turned and put her hands on Tank’s shoulders, holding him in place several steps below. He immediately reached around her waist and pulled her close.
Pushing back, she tried to regain her balance. “This isn’t a hug,” she told him. “I want to look down at you.”
He grinned, loosening his grip a bit. Becky looked into his eyes, sighed, and then reached up and pulled his hat down over his face. She could still see the grin, but she forged ahead with what she had to say.
“When I asked for space to think, I wasn’t expecting you to tackle me in the snow and tell me you love me.” The grin continued to play across his lips. She smiled and shoved his shoulders. “Seriously!”
He pushed his hat up and pulled her close again. “You told me to stop kissing you,” he reminded her. “I did what you asked.” His lips hovered very close to hers. “I could kiss you now, but see how much space I’m giving you?”
Her argument all but forgotten, Becky could only think of closing that space. The door banged! and Parker slid out onto the porch.
“Hey, you’re finally back! Dad wants to know if Tank-monster can stay for dinner.”
Becky and Tank slowly separated. The snow monster stepped up to the porch and towered over them both. “I’d love to stay,” he replied, fist bumping Parker. “This monster’s hungry.”
Parker giggled and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the house. “You can come, too, Miss Aunt Becky!” he called over his shoulder.
Becky shook her head with a smile and followed them into the house.
thirty-one
Becky rolled her eyes. Another fire alarm? They hadn’t told the staff about this one. Maybe one of the kids had pulled it.
She hushed the class. “Alright, everyone, settle down. Line up calmly. You can’t stop at your lockers, so once we get outside, find a buddy and stay warm. But stay close. Taking attendance is hard enough out there.”
The school buzzed with chatter. The students were anything but quiet as they headed out of the building, happy to be freed from their classes, even if it meant standing in the snow.
Becky led the group to their appointed spot on the football field between what she guessed was the forty and fifty yard line. She took attendance with a growing sense of unease. There wasn’t th
e normal chit-chat between teachers as they tried to keep their respective kids quiet. One of her students stood shivering in her sleeveless sweater. Becky tossed the girl her jacket.
“Put this on,” she called. “Everybody line up!”
“Smoke!” one of the students yelled, and everyone followed his gaze to the shop wing. About a hundred students soon fixated on the area as smoke began to billow out in earnest. Becky’s heart sank; that was Ed’s territory. She found herself praying that he and his students had gotten out safely.
A moment later, one of the assistant principals appeared from around the corner of the building and jogged over to the group. He gathered the teachers and updated them.
“We need to move the kids over to the middle school. Nobody’s going back inside today.” He gestured over his shoulder.
“Is everyone alright?” one of the teachers asked.
“Don’t know yet. Fire in one of the shop rooms. Everyone’s evacuating.”
Amidst murmurs of disbelief, the teachers turned to gather their charges.
“Ms. Jacobs.”
Becky turned back to the assistant principal. She’d forgotten his name. “Yes?”
“Just thought you should know,” he hesitated, looking back to the building before continuing. “Mr. Kimball was in the shop wing with Ed Davidson’s class. That’s where the fire started.”
Becky felt the blood drain from her face. “Is he, are they alright?”
“Like I said, I’m not sure. I just know he was helping out with some demonstration. I talked to them about a half hour ago.”
Becky nodded, looked over at the building. The smoke was even thicker now, and she could hear the sirens as emergency vehicles started responding.
“Can I go - is it - am I allowed to go over there?”
“The best thing you can do is get your students safely to the middle school.”
“But I can’t ...” she looked helplessly over his shoulder. She tried to breathe. “Of course. Okay.” She turned to see her students watching their exchange. They were huddled together, looking concerned, the adventure of the fire alarm having lost its thrill. One girl started to cry. Becky kicked into automatic mode. She simply couldn’t think about Tank being injured.
“Alright, let’s go. It’s going to be okay. Let’s follow the others to the middle school.”
She started to lead the way across the football field, when an explosion shook the ground. She stumbled and turned to see flames and smoke shooting from the building behind them. She watched, frozen, imagining Tank trapped somewhere inside. Then she thought about Ed - so much older and less agile. What about the students? Helplessly she watched, praying like she hadn’t prayed in years.
“Alright, everyone, let’s go. We need to keep moving.”
Becky hardly recognized her own voice as she turned and made herself walk away from the fire.
***
The back parking lot was full of emergency vehicles. Becky called Grace and left a message, hoping she’d get it and would be able to find her way in through the throng. People were milling in all directions and Becky tried to find someone she could talk to, to get some information. She finally noticed Ed sitting on the tailgate of an open ambulance. Relief swept over her as she ran up to him.
“Ed? Are you alright?” she called through the group of people surrounding him. She noted that he had some minor scratches on his face, but except for his clothes being rumpled and messed, he looked like he was okay. She dared to hope.
The group parted so that she could approach.
“Becky.” His haggard expression spoke volumes as he looked up, and her heart dropped back into her stomach. “Tank’s in there.”
She took his hands and mustered some strength on his behalf. “I know.” She looked back toward the building. Two EMTs were intercepting a student who’d just exited the building with a fireman. They helped her over to a waiting ambulance.
“He was helping me with a drilling demo,” Ed said hoarsely. He hung his head mumbling, and Becky squeezed his hands.
“It’s okay Ed. They’ve got lots of help in there now,” she tried to comfort him.
“Wall of fire - students panicked. They were blocked in by the drill press. Tank just shoved the whole thing over - and the kids got out. One girl backed into the corner; too afraid ...” He shook his head and drew a shuddering breath. “Tank went back for her.”
Becky kept her eyes glued to the door of the building. No one else had come out since she’d arrived. She glanced around her, taking in a few more details of the unbelievable scene. Two firetrucks and about half a dozen firemen battled the blaze outside. An ambulance pulled out of the lot. Teachers and administrators were everywhere, trying to account for students and deal with anxious parents.
Her attention shot back to the entrance as two firefighters wheeled a gurney out of the building. It was slow going. She didn’t have to strain to see that the heavy load they were pushing was Tank.
***
Becky adjusted her position on the hard chair. She’d actually dozed for a bit, which was probably a good thing. It had been a long evening of waiting, hoping, agonizing. Grace was the only one allowed in the ICU with Tank, so Maddy, John, and Frank had kept watch in the ER waiting room with Becky.
Six other students had been treated and released, including the girl that Tank had gone back to rescue. The other teachers and students in the wing had all evacuated without injury.
Not Tank.
Becky felt the tears surfacing again. She reached for the box of tissues on the table beside her, glad that the others were dozing or distracted for the moment. She didn’t want the focus on her. They had their heads and hearts full thinking about Tank.
She jumped, her heart slamming wildly into her ribcage when the door to the ER opened. Grace walked out, looking drawn and worn. The doctor followed, and the others quickly roused to hear the report. Grace walked over, sat next to Becky, and held her hand.
“Mr. Kimball is in critical condition,” the doctor began, cutting right to the chase. His voice was professional, but there was an edge of compassion to it. “He’s suffered an injury to the back of the head, which is further complicated by like injuries sustained in the past. He’s unresponsive, though his vital signs are strong.”
Unresponsive. The word hit like a physical blow. Becky couldn’t imagine Tank lying in a bed, unresponsive. She tried to tune into the details of what Tank’s medical team would be watching for in the days ahead. “We’re doing all we can.” Of course, they were. Becky squeezed Grace’s hand, trying to offer strength she wasn’t sure she had.
The doctor finally excused himself, and the group in the waiting room gathered together. Becky listened as they immediately launched into prayer on behalf of their friend and brother. She listened quietly, trying to believe that the words spoken in this tiny, stark country hospital waiting room would somehow make a difference in the life of the man lying, helpless, down the hall.
***
Becky prepared for school in a daze on Tuesday morning. The damage caused by the fire had been contained in the shop wing, so the school opened its doors after only one day off. Maybe it was best for everyone; Becky could hardly say. She’d spent the weekend at the hospital - half of that time sitting and talking with Ed - and she had no energy left to face her students. The school would surely be buzzing with news of Friday’s fire and Tank’s injury and she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle the kids’ distress on top of her own.
He hadn’t improved over the last three days, but at least he wasn’t technically worse. Grace had requested clearance for Becky, so she’d been able to go in and sit with him for a few minutes at a time. She fought the tears as she recalled watching him lie there, immobile, so not like Tank.
Becky took another swallow of coffee and packed her lunch. She hadn’t eaten much over the weekend, and knew she had to make herself eat if she was going to field the physical and emotional demands of the week ahead.
Maybe more than a week.
Or it could end today.
A sob escaped as she allowed herself to think about really losing Tank. He’d said that another concussion could kill him. Concussions were why he’d had to give up football. If he didn’t die, he could be paralyzed or ... She willed herself to stop. She couldn’t take on the ‘what ifs.’ She barely had the strength for what was.
Throwing her sandwich and an apple into a bag, she dragged herself out of the house. Her students needed her.
***
Grace was sitting with Tank when Becky arrived at the hospital late that afternoon. They had moved him to the neuro ward, which essentially meant that his vital signs were stable and his coma score had improved somewhat. Becky wanted to jump at this good news, but held back her enthusiasm. Grace didn’t look particularly cheery.
“How are you holding up?” Becky asked, trying to focus on her friend and not on the man lying in the bed.
Grace sighed. “I’m okay. Tank seems to be ... okay. Did they explain why they moved him?”
Becky nodded.
“I was so hoping for a change that I could see.” Grace rubbed her temples. “He hasn’t moved; he just ...” She looked down at him lying peacefully between them. Tank was never peaceful. Becky swallowed.
“Have you heard from Alex?”
“Yeah, he’s coming out tomorrow. Not that it makes a difference,” Grace sighed helplessly as she picked up her brother’s hand.
“It will make all the difference,” Becky protested. “He’ll keep you going, and you’ll keep Tank going.”
Grace looked up. “So will you,” she replied. “He needs you, Becky.”
Becky nodded. “I’ll be here.”
“No, I mean he needs you. For the long haul. When this is over,” she gestured aimlessly around the room, “when he’s better,” she amended with more determination, “he’s going to need you.” She looked at Tank with mingled concern and affection. “Someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”
Done With Men Forever (Clairmont Series Book 3) Page 26