What Hope Remembers

by Johnnie Alexander

  She stared out the window, ashamed of her own thoughts. Deep inside, she knew she couldn’t do that to Logan no matter how lonely she was or how much she longed for a family of her own. Her heart belonged only to Gabe. Nobody else.

  Tomorrow. Much as she dreaded doing it, she’d call Logan tomorrow. Ask him to meet her in the city. Pray he wouldn’t be too hurt.

  “Everything okay?” Gabe asked. “You’re suddenly quiet.”

  She mentally shook away her gloomy thoughts and smiled her most dazzling smile. “Just making plans.”

  “Which you aren’t going to tell me.”

  “Nope.”

  “You want to listen to some music?”

  “Let’s just listen to the country sounds. The real country sounds.”

  “Fine by me.”

  They drove past the Norris farm, past Misty Willow, past the Owenses’. After making the turn, they passed Brett’s sprawling ranch house and then the bungalow. As soon as they crossed the bridge, the engine conked and sputtered. Gabe applied slow pressure to the brake and steered the truck to the shoulder of the road.

  “What’s going on?” Amy asked.

  “Not sure.”

  The engine groaned, choked, then died.

  “Good thing I brought along the toolbox,” Gabe said. “And just for the record, I didn’t plan this either.”

  “But you would have if you’d thought of it?”

  “Maybe,” he teased. “At least we’re close enough to the house to walk if we have to.”

  “Do you want me to call Brett? Not that he would be much help. Or I can call AJ.”

  “Give me a chance to fix it on my own first.”

  “As long as you don’t expect me to help.” She stood on the step by the door and looked out over the cab of the truck. The sun hung low in the sky, though it wouldn’t set for another hour or so. Breezes, scented with warmth and green and at least a hint of cow manure, wafted around her. But not even the animal odor offended her. Not anymore.

  No matter what happened between her and Gabe, she no longer wanted to return to apartment life in the big city. Though if Gabe didn’t love her after all, she wouldn’t be able to stay at the cottage if he stayed with Tess.

  Again she pressed down the gloomy thoughts. She was going to live in the present and be thankful for this moment when she and Gabe were together, even if together meant being stranded on the side of the road in a broken-down Ford.

  “Looks like we’re going to need a tow or a push.” Gabe grinned up at her. “Think your baby could handle the job?”

  “Um . . . no,” she said emphatically.

  “I’ll call Tess and see if she’s home yet.”

  “Don’t do that. If she’s not, she’ll feel like she has to hurry back.” Amy pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll call AJ.”

  While the phone rang, she climbed into the truck’s bed. A wave of euphoria swept through her. This was what it was like to be a country girl, and she loved it.

  “What’s up?” AJ said when he answered her call.

  “I’m with Gabe, and his truck broke down. We need help.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Just past your place, across the bridge.” She breathed in the sunshine-soaked air, then wrinkled her nose. An acrid odor mingled with the expected scents. “You aren’t grilling out, are you?”

  “No, why?”

  She took another deep breath. The odor was stronger, even more pungent. She scanned the nearby fields, beyond the hedgerow, then toward the stables. Smoke rose into the sky, gentle threads of it one moment followed by a mass of black.

  “Fire.” Her voice held unbelief. It couldn’t be.

  “What?” AJ demanded.

  “Gabe!” she shouted. “Look. It’s a fire.”

  “Amy,” AJ said in her ear. “Where’s the fire?”

  At the same time, Gabe appeared at the side of the truck. “What’s going on?”

  “At Tess’s.” Her voice choked, and Gabe looked around wildly, then momentarily froze.

  “Stay here. And call 911,” he ordered, then sprinted up the road toward the stables.

  “Gabe, wait!”

  “Amy, stay where you are,” AJ said. “I’m on my way.”

  Amy ended the call and dialed 911 while debating whether to run after Gabe or wait for AJ. But her feet seemed to make the decision for her. While she answered the operator’s questions, begging for immediate help, she awkwardly climbed from the truck bed and half jogged, half stumbled along the road.

  A few moments later, AJ caught up with her and she climbed into his Jeep. She barely had the door shut when he pressed down on the accelerator and sped toward the stables. Gabe had climbed the fence and was racing toward the burning barn.

  Tears poured down Amy’s cheeks, but she barely noticed them.

  “Shelby is calling Brett, a few others,” AJ said. He glanced at Amy, then focused on the road.

  They sped past the hedges hiding the cottage and then past the stables. The entire structure appeared to be on fire.

  Amy craned her neck to see if she could locate the horses in the pasture, but she didn’t see any of them. AJ drove past the house, and the Jeep’s wheels squealed as he slowed only enough to make the left-hand turn into the drive.

  Amy smacked into the door.

  “Sorry,” AJ said.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  The instant he braked between the house and the garage, she opened the door and leaped out, on a run for the stables. AJ quickly caught up to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to a stop.

  “Stay here,” he ordered. “Wait for the others.”

  “I can’t.” Her voice broke, and she swiped at the tears. One part of her brain realized she’d dropped her phone, but she didn’t know where. Nor did she care. “The horses,” she said, almost in a whimper. “Gabe. He’ll . . .” She couldn’t even say the words that gripped her heart like an iron fist, but she didn’t have to.

  AJ nodded understanding, then gave her a slight push and pointed his finger at her. “Stay here.” He ran toward the stables while she tried to breathe. But she couldn’t stay. Not when her imagination raced with horrific images.

  The sky grew blacker with each passing second, and the smell of the smoke descended around her. She couldn’t wait any longer. Her sandals weren’t made for running, but she didn’t notice the thistles scratching her feet and ankles as she scurried past Tess’s truck after AJ.

  34

  Gabe ran harder than he ever had in his life, shutting his mind to everything around him except the fire blazing out of control ahead of him. As if on autopilot, his mind calculated where to jump the ditch beside the road and where to clamber over the white wooden fence and the best angle for running across the pasture to the burning stables.

  He had to save the horses. Nothing else mattered.

  The billowing smoke choked him. He quickly splashed water from a nearby trough onto his shirt and wet the rag he’d stuck in his back pocket while fiddling with the truck. As he tied the rag around his nose and mouth, the terrified screams from inside the barn confirmed his worst fear. Taking a deep breath, he ducked his head and made his way to the first stall. Daisy stamped and whinnied.

  Gabe grabbed a lead rope, then opened the door. Talking softly, he placed the rope around her neck as quickly as he could and led her along the central aisle to the outer door. He hurried her into a pen, then ran back to the stables. By the time he came out with Casper, AJ was directing a hose used to fill the water trough toward the base of the fire. But the small stream of water wasn’t powerful enough to slow the raging inferno.

  “Take Casper,” Gabe called. “Get him and Daisy to the field.”

  AJ dropped the hose and reached for the rope, placing his hand close to Casper’s neck so the horse couldn’t slip it.

  “You can’t go back in there,” AJ shouted above the roar of the flames. “It’s too far gone.”

  “I’ve got no choice.” Gabe wet hi
s shirt and the rag again with the hose.

  “Help is on the way.”

  “It’ll be too late.”

  As Gabe took a deep breath, readying himself to enter the stables again, Amy appeared. She ran to him, coughing and stumbling, grabbing at his arms.

  “The horses?”

  “I’ll save them,” he said with more bravado than he felt.

  “You can’t.” She looked one direction and then another. “Where’s Tess?”

  Gabe’s heart plummeted to his stomach. “What?”

  “Her truck’s in the driveway.” Amy’s eyes widened in horror and she stared at the stables. “Oh no.”

  Gabe raced into the barn with the sound of Amy screeching his name ringing in his ears. Tess would have gone in after the horses. Which meant she had to be in here.

  “Tess!” he called, trying to shout above the creaking and groaning of the burning wood. “Tess, where are you?”

  Since Daisy and Casper had still been in their stalls, Tess must have started at the other end of the barn. Fire blazed there, strong and steady. Gabe’s eyes stung and watered, and mucus dripped from his nose. But love for his aunt spurred him through the gray smoke and rising inferno.

  “Gabe!” Amy shouted. “Gabe, don’t!”

  As he disappeared into the barn, ducking beneath the burning doorframe, her legs turned to jelly. She stumbled forward, her arms in front of her face, bracing against the intense heat. “Gabe! Come back!”

  He wouldn’t. Not if Tess was inside.

  She forced herself to move forward as tears streamed down her face. The beam above the entrance burned with a feverish glow. Gabe had ducked beneath it. So could she.

  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and felt herself being pulled backward. She fought the pressure against her stomach as strong arms held her tight.

  “You can’t,” AJ said behind her. His grip tightened as he pulled her away from the barn. “Amy, you can’t.”

  “I have to,” she cried, kicking at his legs. “Let me go. Let me go.”

  Instead, he dragged her farther from the fire as the flames blazed before them. “This won’t help him. It won’t help Tess.”

  She fought to calm down, knowing he was right but hating the helplessness she felt.

  “Breathe,” AJ said. “Just take a moment and breathe.”

  She did what he’d said, but the air was heavy with smoke and reeked of burning odors. “What can I do?” she said, her voice sounding pitiful and small.

  “Find blankets. I’ll hose down the doorway. Maybe that will at least give him a chance.”

  “AJ,” she said, then bit at her lip. “If he . . .”

  “Go,” AJ ordered. “Just go.”

  She nodded, then ran toward the house.

  Gabe staggered along the aisle, opening each stall door as he went in a futile attempt to free the horses. But they wouldn’t leave on their own. A stall, even a burning one, represented safety to them. There was nothing he could do for them until he found Tess.

  He was more than halfway down the aisle when he saw her lying on the concrete floor beside the open door next to Knight Starr’s stall.

  Gabe paused as a wooden beam fell before him, then he maneuvered around it. His single focus now was getting Tess out of the barn. Sweat poured down his face, his ears and neck felt as if they had been attacked by a swarm of stinging hornets, and his lungs ached to draw breath. But still he struggled to get to her.

  He dropped to his knees, ignoring the heat of the concrete floor through his jeans and on the palms of his hands. He crawled to her, turned her over. Blood oozed from her forehead, and she wasn’t breathing.

  Reacting in fear, Knight Starr reared, striking out at Gabe. He quickly pulled Tess into the aisle.

  He started to administer CPR, but the fire loomed closer. He glanced behind him. The aisle wasn’t as clear as it had been, and the sickeningly sweet smell of burning plastic and burnt horseflesh was making him gag. He wouldn’t have much longer to escape.

  Standing, he heaved her into his arms and staggered toward the door. He was almost there when he stumbled and fell. He grabbed both of Tess’s wrists and walked backward, crouching as low as possible while he dragged her along the floor. As the fire blazed around him, he emerged from the flames.

  AJ met him at the door, his expression showing relief followed quickly by concern. He dropped the hose, then helped Gabe pick up Tess and carry her a safe distance from the fire. Brett had arrived, and he and Amy rushed to help. Part of Gabe’s brain registered the sound of sirens. They were close. But were they too late?

  He bent over, hands to knees, sputtering and coughing. “She’s not breathing.”

  “I can do it,” AJ said. He tilted Tess’s head backward, blew air into her lungs, then compressed her chest with the heels of his hand.

  Gabe staggered, then fell to the ground as he gulped in air. Ghost-like images appeared and disappeared in the smoke. Amy beat at the fire around the door with a blanket. Brett, Paul Norris and his son Seth, and a few other people Gabe had met since moving to the stables were also doing their best to put out the fire.

  But one look at the barn, and he knew it was a lost cause. The wood burned too fast. A scream echoed above the roar of the flames, and he hung his head, knowing that the sound would haunt him as long as he lived.

  He had to give it one more try. To save at least one more horse.

  He stood, lurched toward the door, and glared at the flames shooting from inside. They couldn’t beat him. Not after what he’d been through in the past six years. He’d endured that long prison term and was only now finding his way in the outside world. It couldn’t come crashing down—not without a fight.

  Amy hit at the flames as they sparked from the building and ignited the nearby grass and fencing. Her arms ached, her lungs felt clogged with carbon, and her mouth tasted like ash. The air stank, but she couldn’t let herself think of the dying horses right now.

  More than anything, she wanted to run to Gabe, to hold him, but she was like a robot caught in some kind of mechanical loop. All she could do was hit at the ground, the fence, the barn itself with the water-soaked blanket.

  The fire trucks appeared, and men came running toward them. Brett directed the EMT personnel to where AJ was still giving CPR to Tess.

  Amy hit at another spark, smacking the ground again and again until a fireman stilled her motion. “We’ve got this,” he said firmly. “We need you to get back.”

  “The horses,” she said, holding tight to the blanket, unwilling to let it go. “You have to save the horses.”

  He glanced at the stables, his expression grim. “We’ll save what we can.”

  She released the blanket as she turned to where the EMTs were surrounding Tess. AJ stood nearby, hands on his hips, head bent. Praying. As if she could hear his thoughts, she knew he was praying.

  He raised his eyes, stared toward the barn, then sprinted toward it. Amy followed his gaze to where Gabe struggled to get past two of the firemen. Somehow he found the strength to push through them, and he rushed toward the barn.

  “Noooo!” The scream clawed at her throat.

  Without missing a beat, AJ ran inside the barn after Gabe.

  Amy stumbled forward, tripped, and fell to her knees. Exhaustion pressed her to the ground, and she struggled to get back to her feet. But instead she stumbled again. Rolling to her side, she lost the fight in a heart-wrenching groan. The firefighter who’d taken the blanket from her knelt beside her, and a couple of paramedics immediately joined him. She fought against them, thinking only of getting to the barn. Shouting at them to help Gabe and AJ. To save the horses.

  The paramedics tried to quiet her, but sobs wracked her body. She descended into momentary blackness, and when she opened her eyes, Brett was beside her, pushing her hair from her forhead. Grimy smoke streaked his face, and his eyes were rimmed in red.

  “Sir, we need to check you out too,” one of the EMTs said. “We’ll ta
ke care of her, just give us a chance.”

  “I’m not leaving you, Amy,” Brett said.

  She tried but failed to smile. Her mouth seemed frozen. She swallowed hard, blinked, and held his gaze. “Gabe?” Her eyes closed before he could answer, and she was lost in darkness.

  35

  Amy picked at the tape holding the IV in her hand. A tube surrounded her head and released oxygen into her nostrils from a nearby tank. A monitor rhythmically tracked her vital signs, but her heart rate didn’t register the ache she felt inside.

  The door opened and Brett appeared, dressed in a hospital gown and cheap robe. He pulled an IV stand with him as he sat down in the bedside chair. “How’re you doing?” he asked.

  “Okay,” she murmured. “Should you be up?”

  “I escaped when no one was watching.” He gestured toward the IV flowing into his arm. “This is all an unnecessary precaution.”

  “AJ ran into the barn.” She felt torn between her fear of the questions piercing her heart and her need to know the answers. “After Gabe.”

  “The firefighters got them out.”

  “Are they all right?”

  Brett released a pent-up breath, and he passed his hand over his eyes. “Emergency Services called a helicopter to transfer them to the burn center in Columbus.”

  Amy closed her eyes against the tears welling inside of her. Her breath caught and she cleared her throat. “Will they be okay?”

  “They’re alive. I don’t know any more than that.” He twisted the IV stand so the bag swung from its hook. “They couldn’t save any more of the horses.”

  Conflicting emotions warred within her. Sorrow for the lost animals. Gratefulness that Gabe and AJ were alive. Fear for what they were going through.

  “Where’s Shelby?” she asked.

  “With AJ. The Norrises drove her to the center.”

  “What about Gabe? He doesn’t have anyone . . .”

  “They’ll stay with him. If they’re allowed.”

  A new fear, irrational and sudden, gripped her chest and she clutched her blanket. “The kids?”

  “Cassie watched them till Dani got home from fussing over me.”