Marry Me...Again

by Cheryl St. John

  All he needed was a wife. His wife. Brynna, the woman he loved. It had become clear to him that she wasn’t over him either, and he didn’t think she wanted to be.

  He simply had to figure out a way to ask her to start over. And pray she was willing. He did a preflight check, fueled and took off as planned, wanting to help with the fire and rescue effort. He would have time in the air to think.

  Brynna found a parking place on Kingsley Avenue and made her way to the front of the Calico Diner, a long, transformed mobile home. The nostalgic interior was straight out of the fifties with framed pictures of Elvis, Marilyn Monroe and other stars.

  The waitresses called a hello and a few customers, including Dev’s aunt, Louise Holmes, who was seated with friends, greeted her by name. Brynna greeted them, found her brother at a booth, and sat across from him.

  A waitress took their orders immediately. Kurt ordered the works: burger, fries and a shake, but Brynna asked for a salad and a glass of milk.

  “I’m saving myself for pie and coffee,” she said with a grin.

  “Thanks for making the drive to Rumor to meet me,” Kurt said. He wore a blue shirt and a patterned tie and looked every bit the handsome professional.

  “No problem,” she said. “I feel like I’ve been out of it lately, where you and Tuck are concerned. Dev told me Tuck is all set up in California. Job and everything. I didn’t realize Dev had handled all that so quickly.”

  “Tuck likes the place,” Kurt replied. “How about you, Brynn? Are you doing okay? Are you handling what happened? The miscarriage, I mean.”

  Brynna laced her fingers and looked into Kurt’s concerned eyes. “It still hurts,” she admitted. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. But I don’t think about it all the time. I’m not depressed. But a lot of other stuff has happened, too.”

  “Like what?”

  Brynna couldn’t form words.

  “Is it you and Dev? I know he’s not living at the house.”

  Sure, he’d heard. And that was probably why he’d wanted to talk to her. “I’m sure everyone knows by now.”

  “What happened?”

  “It’s complicated,” she said evasively.

  “I can’t imagine what either one of you could do to get to the point of breaking up,” he said.

  “I can’t really imagine it either.”

  “I haven’t called until now, because I didn’t want to pry into your business.”

  “It’s not prying,” she assured Kurt. “I know you care.”

  “Sure I care. What’s going through your head?” he asked.

  She didn’t really know what she wanted to say to her brother, but she felt a pressing need to talk to him. “A lot. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Having some revelations about my life.”

  “Sounds painful.”

  “It is.

  “I’ve even been thinking about how we grew up, and about how things were at home, with Mom and Dad. Or rather without Mom and Dad.” She took his hand on top of the table. “I’m proud of you—how you turned out.”

  “I’m proud of you, too, sis,” he said, his voice thick. Her words embarrassed him.

  “You were more self-sufficient than Mel or Tuck,” she said. “Or was it just that they were more demanding, so you did more for yourself because you had to?”

  “That’s deep, Brynn. I don’t know.”

  “I don’t know either.”

  He glanced out the window, as if in thought, then back at her. “Mel’s a girl, she needed you. And Tuck was the baby. He needed all of us.”

  The waitress brought their drinks and left. Kurt tasted his shake and said, “Sometimes I think you never had anybody to take care of you. You were the mother, the one in charge. But you didn’t get much help.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve decided to start taking care of me,” she answered.

  “Good. You’ve done enough sacrificing.”

  “It wasn’t all a sacrifice.”

  “Yes, it was. Don’t minimize it.”

  She shrugged, but smiled. “Okay.”

  “And Dev,” her brother added. “He can take care of you if you let him.”

  But she hadn’t. She’d never let anyone take care of her. Back to that matter of pride. She was the strong one, the one who took care of others.

  “Whatever it is that you’re not saying,” he went on, “I know it can be fixed. You and Dev are good for each other.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “How can you not? I never saw you laugh so much until you were with him. He brings out something in you that makes you not so serious all the time.”

  He was exactly right. She’d never had much fun before Dev. By example, he’d shown her how to interact with her family, not just take care of them.

  “You’re wise for someone so young,” she told her brother.

  “Yeah, well I had a good example,” he replied.

  Brynna’s throat closed with emotion and love. “Thank you, Kurt.”

  “Thank you, Brynn.”

  Their food arrived and they ate, the subject turning to other things. After Brynna had enjoyed dessert, he walked her to her car, and they said their goodbyes.

  Driving back to Whitehorn, Brynna had time to think over the day, what had happened with Melanie, and her talk with Kurt.

  They were all a product of their past: their childhoods, their parents, their past relationships, their experiences. Everyone made choices based on previous programming—or because of their history, good or bad. Just look at the first night she’d impulsively slept with Dev. It was completely uncharacteristic of her, and she’d questioned her choice ever since it had happened.

  Maybe all this other bad stuff had happened because of that one bad choice.

  But thinking back, she remembered the way she’d been drawn to Dev—the physical attraction played a big part, sure, but there was more to it. The way he made her feel: safe, loved, cared for, special.

  Tears came to her eyes. She’d sacrificed youth and relationships and time to make her siblings feel important. Everyone needed to feel valuable, and their parents had not fulfilled that basic need. Mel and Kurt and Tuck needing her had made her feel important. She was their rock, their anchor. But there had never been anyone who valued her as a person just for herself, instead of as a caregiver.

  Not until Dev.

  As the realization swept over her, she pulled over to the side of the highway and cried. Maybe that’s why she’d been so desperate for a career as a doctor, so determined to give birth to children of her own—so that she could feel significant to all those people, because she’d never been made to feel of value.

  Dev had loved her for herself. He had wanted to give to her, pay for things, but her pride hadn’t allowed that because she was afraid. Afraid of him not needing her the way she needed him.

  No. Get honest, Brynna. Hiding the truth from yourself will only bury this problem deeper.

  She’d been afraid of needing him. Period.

  There.

  An enormous weight lifted from her soul. She was a person of value. Even if she hadn’t become a doctor. Even if she never had a child of her own. Even if she and Dev couldn’t work out their problems. And it was okay to need help once in a while. And it was okay to need Dev.

  On top of that realization came the next thought. Dev had never been shown love or appreciation by his parents either. Was that why he’d spent his life proving himself at one profession and then another? So that he could validate himself? Show his parents he had worth?

  Maybe they’d both been seeking the same thing, but had gone about it in completely opposite ways.

  That first night with Dev had been her reaction to years of questioning her worth. A desperate attempt to grab something she wanted for herself. Perhaps their relationship had been hasty, but if it had led to love, so what?

  Brynna wiped her tears, blew her nose and drove to the hospital with a renewed sense of hope—and a new regret sho
ving its way to the forefront of her thoughts. She had held what she perceived as Dev’s lack of commitment against him. Even when he’d shared his feelings and apologized for his initial reactions to her pregnancy, she’d been too proud and too hurt to do what he’d done immediately.

  She had not forgiven him.

  Her pager beeped on her waistband, and she looked at it to see the hospital emergency number. Picking up her pace, she hurried toward the ambulance bay.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The chief of staff was waiting for Brynna in admitting when she arrived.

  “An emergency?” she asked, glancing down the deserted hallway.

  “Not here,” he replied. “At the camp. The fire has taken a turn for the worse and they’re short of medical help. I promised them a triage team for the rest of the week. I need you to take charge. We’ll cover your rounds here.”

  Brynna felt woefully inept at triage, having had only one emergency rotation, but she put in her hours here when needed, and she would do her best. The chief of staff was either desperate or he trusted her more than she trusted herself.

  “Who’s on the team?”

  “Emma,” he said, and Brynna sighed a breath of relief that the veteran nurse would be with her. He listed the rest of the nurses, including Rae Ann, and she nodded her compliance.

  “Pack a few things and plan to stay there,” he told her, “rather than try to drive back, otherwise you’ll never get any sleep. The camp facilities are primitive, but there are plenty of supplies and medicines.”

  Brynna called each of the team members and arranged a time and meeting place for departure, then drove home to get her things. Taking a van belonging to Judy, one of the nurses, they headed for the fire on schedule.

  Once again, Brynna was astounded at the damage that had been done to acres of timberland. Eerie plumes of black smoke rose from farther up the mountainside where the fire had spread. Following the directions they’d been given, Judy drove them to where the temporary camp had recently moved. The van pulled to a stop and Brynna and her team got out.

  The camp was organized with smaller sleeping tents on one end, supply tents in the center, and the larger tents, used for treating patients and serving food and water, on the other side.

  A dozen weary firefighters were sharing a meal at tables placed out in the open, and a volunteer moved among them pouring coffee. One of the men waved to Brynna.

  She recognized Ash McDonough, set her bags aside, and walked toward the tables.

  “Hi, Brynna,” he said.

  “Ash.”

  “This is Dr. Holmes,” he said to the others.

  Several of the men, fatigue etched on their dirt-smeared faces, welcomed her.

  “My unit is moving farther up the ridge today,” he told her.

  “Have you seen Dev?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I heard he’s flying out of another command post. One specifically for air rescue and spraying.”

  A plane flew over just then, and they both glanced upward for a moment.

  “Well, take care of yourself,” Ash said to her.

  “You, too.”

  The men finished their meal and threw away their disposable plates and cutlery, grabbed bottles of water from a pallet of cases nearby and walked toward their vehicles.

  Behind her somewhere, a male voice called out a request for bandages. A man came out of the nearby tent with a bucket and rag and wiped the tables.

  The bustle of activity instilled a sense of urgency and purpose, and Brynna turned back to find her team. They were stowing their gear, and she dropped her flight bag on the pile. Finding her other bag, she ignored prescription pads and her phone to pull out her stethoscope and drape it around her neck.

  She was as ready as she’d ever be.

  “Go rest,” Emma told Brynna with a stern look and a push toward the sleeping tents. “It’s one in the morning, and the rest of us have had a nap. I’ll handle this turkey.”

  She referred to a firefighter who had been treated and was currently arguing with Rae Ann because he didn’t want to use the oxygen mask a minute longer.

  Trusting the nurse to intimidate the fireman into staying put another fifteen minutes, Brynna thanked her team. “You’re doing a great job. I’m going to try to sleep for an hour or so. If you need me, come get me.”

  Brynna stumbled into the tent where she and the nurses had stowed their belongings that afternoon. It seemed like days had passed. She was sweaty and grimy and could taste smoke with every breath. She switched on a solitary bulb hung from the canvas ceiling. The camp operated on generators, thank goodness, but their assigned accommodations afforded little more than cots and a light.

  Brynna poured water from a plastic jug into a basin. She washed her face, used disinfectant on her hands, and rinsed. After unpacking her hairbrush, she let down her hair and ran the bristles through. Her entire body was weary, and this was only the first day. The tension increased the fatigue. She couldn’t imagine what the firefighters must feel like.

  She’d spent the entire evening treating smoke inhalation and first-degree burns. Her admiration for those men had grown in leaps and bounds. Even exhausted and wounded, they resisted prolonged treatment in their hurry to get back to their positions.

  Every time she heard a plane in the distance, she thought of Dev, and wondered if he was nearby. Exhausted, she lay down and immediately fell asleep.

  At five she was up for the day, dressed and in front of the triage tent. Emma brought her coffee in a foam cup. “Rested?”

  Brynna nodded.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this, have you?” Rae Ann asked, coming to stand with them in front of the tent.

  The entire area was crawling with firefighters, teams of medical professionals and even members of the press.

  “Only on television,” Brynna replied.

  “I helped with a fire once before,” Emma told them.

  “I can’t believe the stupidity of that couple,” Rae Ann said, scorn in her tone. “All this, all these people hurt and the forest burned because that Cantrell woman and her lover had a campfire they weren’t supposed to have. Why the heck did they need a campfire in broad daylight, during a drought no less, if they weren’t cooking?” She cocked her head and added, “And they obviously weren’t cooking.”

  “Remember that fire in Colorado that was started by a female forest ranger burning old love letters?” Brynna mentioned.

  “Seems I remember she just made that up,” Emma replied.

  Brynna sipped her strong hot coffee. “Well, nothing logical about that incident either. Pure carelessness on both counts.”

  A helicopter’s loud rotor drowned out Emma’s next remark, and the three of them ran toward the landing area.

  Brynna closed her eyes against the swirling dust, blinked and made out the chopper as it landed. The door slid open. Brynna recognized a paramedic who worked in Whitehorn. “Dr. Holmes!” he called, seeing her.

  Brynna ran forward, ducking under the blades.

  “Twenty-eight-year-old male with a possible pelvic fracture,” he yelled over the noise. “I think he might be bleeding internally.”

  Emma was right behind with Brynna’s bag. Brynna checked the patient’s vitals. “I think you’re right on both counts. Let’s get him to Whitehorn. I’ll come with you to keep him stabilized.”

  Turning back to Emma, she said, “Any cases that need a doctor, turn over to one of the other teams until I get back.”

  Emma nodded her understanding and backed away.

  Brynna climbed aboard the helicopter and nearly fell on top of the patient as the pilot immediately put the craft in the air.

  “This isn’t looking good,” the pilot called back.

  She saw what he was talking about. Flames were licking the edge of the ridge, just a little over a mile from their camp, and he had to fly a wide circle around the heat and smoke.

  She’d barely returned from that flight when a
volunteer with a broken leg was brought into camp in the back of a pickup. She was administering a sedative, when shouts came from outside the tent.

  “We have to get out of here!” Emma said, her face flushed, her white jacket streaked with dirt. “The wind has changed, turning the fire back, and our camp is right in its path. They’re evacuating us.”

  “Get this man on a chopper,” Brynna said, calling instructions to the other nurses. “Pack everything you can in the van and we’re out of here. Bring me ice.”

  “They can’t get a helicopter back in,” Emma said, after using a phone.

  “Then we’ll have to take him with us. Help me get his leg stable.”

  The man, tall and probably in his thirties, grimaced, showing white teeth against his darkened face.

  “What’s your name?” Brynna asked him.

  “Don Hinkle.”

  “Well, Don, you’re about to get the ride of your life. I’ve given you something for the pain. It’ll kick in in a minute here. I don’t want to risk setting that leg without X rays, so we’ll pack it in ice until we get you to the hospital.”

  The camp was a mass of confusion and panic, with medical personnel packing supplies and running and calling out to one another.

  Brynna helped lay down all the rear seats in Judy’s van. Judy started the engine as four of them lifted the stretcher bearing the wounded Don into the back and packed bags of ice around his leg. The team squeezed in around him.

  The man’s dirty face was streaked with sweat, and he held back exclamations of pain.

  “It’s okay, Don,” Brynna assured him. “We’re out of here, and you’ll be at the hospital soon.”

  With everyone in and the doors closed, the driver headed away from the fire. Other volunteers, also fleeing the camp, moved out of their way.

  As they bounced along the dirt road they’d traveled to get there, the sky grew darker than ever. A squat man in a coat and fire helmet flagged them down at a turn in the road.

  Judy rolled down her window.

  “Can’t get through here!” he said to her and peered at the passengers. “We’ve got a firestorm raging ahead.”