Every Little Kiss (24 page)

He called on the com for a ladder, coughing and praying his oxygen tanks would hold. He couldn't hear anything except the roar of the surrounding fires. They were closing in. They had to get out.
Now.
Reese was driving into the window with everything he had. Smoke was pouring through the holes they made. He could hardly see.

When they finally had an opening, he stuck his head out and managed to glimpse a ladder before smoke blocked his vision again. He grabbed Reese by the back of the neck. “Go,” he said, and all but threw him out the window. The kid disappeared in the thick smoke.

Abe climbed out after. Behind him, heat seared his skin, even through all his protective gear. The roar of the fire filled him. Pain flared everywhere. He struggled to think.

He groped for the rungs. Finally—there. His foot found purchase, and he scrambled down, praying that his crew would be there when he hit the bottom. He didn't know how far he'd made it when the explosion hit. It tore through the window just above his head. His cranium was hammered, his ears imploded. He lost his grip on the ladder and fell.

In the plunge, he thought of Casey and wondered if he'd ever be able to see her again. He held on, fighting for consciousness, as the picture of her flashed in his mind. Stronger than the heat, stronger than the flames, she was there.

Love is with me
, he thought, fighting back the blackness once his body met enough pain to make him think it was the ground. Love had run into the fire with him after all.

Now he just needed to ensure he made it out again.

Betty was shaking her.

Casey raised her head, and sharp pain shot through her neck. She groaned, rubbing her forehead. She felt the grooves of wood on her skin, where she'd fallen asleep with her head on the red table. Her mouth was thick feeling from all the whiskey. Outside, darkness had fallen.

“What's going on?” she muttered.

Betty pushed a glass of water toward her. “Drink this. Then we're leaving.”

Casey glanced at her phone. No missed calls. “Where are we going? We have to wait until—”

“The hospital. I turned on the scanner while you were asleep.”

Casey sat up, blinking against the jagged light overhead. She struggled to think, struggled to make sense of what Betty was saying. “What? What do you mean?”

“Your fireman, Abe. He was hurt. Come on, we're leaving now.”

Casey revolted against the news.
No.

Abe Cameron could not be hurt. Only from the pained lines on Betty's face, she knew it was true. Her whiskey-coated stomach roiled. She thought she might be sick.

“What happened?” she managed to whisper.

“I don't know exactly. From what I can make out, they went into a building thinking there was one fire. But actually there were two. It was the old cloth company. Oil-soaked rags and whatnot…” Betty's words faded. Her eyes shifted with sadness.

“Oh, God.” Not Abe.

This was her nightmare, playing out in real time. She thought then that her breath might leave her, that her muscles might give way.

Instead, something else took over.

Casey sat up. She felt as though her bones were infused with steel, her nerves were steady, and her mind was resolute. She was the opposite of weak.
She was going to be strong enough for them both, come hell or high water.

Right then, she had all the reserves she needed, all the fuel to burn brightly enough for two people, not just one. That was what love did, she realized. It didn't deplete you. It made you strong and not weak.

She straightened and pulled on her coat. “Drive fast,” she told her friend.

T
he hospital's overhead lights blazed too bright, and somehow everything seemed tinged with green. Casey knew it was just her filter of worry and fear, but nevertheless she couldn't blink away the film.

At the reception desk, a nurse in maroon scrubs stopped tapping on a computer screen and looked up. A row of charts tiled the wall behind her. “Can I help you?”

“We're here to see Abe Cameron,” Betty said when Casey's voice had suddenly decided to stop working. Casey shoved her hands into her pockets to hide their trembling. “The firefighter who came in recently?”

The lines around the nurse's mouth hardened. “Are you family?”

“Not technically, but—”

“Then I can't let you in. We're limiting bedside visitors right now.”

Casey bit the inside of her cheek. She feared the worst, and pictures of a disfigured Abe flashed through her mind.

“Because of his condition?” Betty asked, perhaps thinking the same thing.

“I can't really go into details,” the nurse replied. She turned back to the keyboard. The typing was a cackle in Casey's ears. She wanted to hurl the keyboard across the room.

She looked at Betty, who could only shrug. Surely they weren't going to give up that easily—were they?

Casey took a deep breath. She had to see Abe. By any means necessary.

“I'm his fiancée,” Casey blurted. She ignored Betty's wide-eyed stare. The typing stopped. The nurse glanced at Casey's bare left hand.

“It—well, it just happened,” Casey fumbled, hoping her face wasn't blazing red. “It's all very recent. But I really need to get in to see him. I'm—we're—well, this could affect wedding plans.”

She was babbling. It sounded ridiculous, talking about wedding logistics when all she cared about was Abe and being with him.

The nurse ran her tongue over her teeth, debating. Casey could only hold her breath. Finally, the nurse stood up. “Sign here,” she said, pointing to a clipboard. Casey exhaled loudly. “When you're logged in, take the hallway here straight down. He's in room two-oh-seven, on the left. Visiting hours end in an hour, so please keep that in mind. Your friend needs to wait here.”

Betty grabbed Casey's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I'll be close by if you need me,” she told Casey.

Her hands still shaking, Casey signed in and then headed down the hallway. The flecks in the tiles blurred together. Somewhere she heard the ping of a monitor, the grumble of a patient. A nurse squeaked by in sensible shoes.

At room 207, she paused and took a deep breath. She steeled herself for the worst. He could be paralyzed. In a coma. Disfigured by flame.

And I'll love him still
, she thought,
because he's still Abe
.

Straightening her spine, she pushed open the door.

The room was quieter than she expected. The light was dim, the curtains drawn tight. A screen next to the bed danced with squiggles and lines.

She'd expected doctors assessing vital signs, hovering over Abe's prone form. She'd thought there would be nurses padding in and out of the room. But there was just Abe lying on the bed, his shape draped in white blankets and sheets. She tiptoed closer, trying to get a good look at him in the low light.

“Doc, I swear to God you'd better be working on that release paperwork. If I don't go home first thing tomorrow, I'm going to be seriously pissed.”

Casey stopped. Abe hadn't moved, but she could hear him breathing.

“What, so now you're not going to come any closer? Fine.” The whirring of the motorized bed started as Abe raised himself to a sitting position. “I
told
you, I'm good. I don't nee—”

He stopped when he saw Casey. His hazel eyes widened. “
Casey.
” Her name was barely a whisper.

She was frozen, taking in the white bandage on his neck, the IV poking into his arm, the dark stubble on his chin.

“Are you…?” She didn't know how to finish the question. She studied his legs, wondering if he could move them. He looked all right and had just said as much, but what if he wasn't?

Instead of answering, he opened up his arms. His eyes were pleading with her, begging her to move closer. The pull of him was stronger than anything she'd ever known. Biting back tears, she rushed into his embrace.

He groaned, low and deep, and pulled her close. Casey swallowed, feeling completely overwhelmed. Abe was
alive
. He'd made it out of the fire.

Now what?
she wondered.

This wasn't the time to think, however. She refused to let her brain take over. This wasn't about being logical. Right now, she just wanted to feel the joy of being close to Abe, of knowing he was right here next to her. She took in his solid muscles, his cheek against the top of her head, his breath warm on her skin. She inhaled, catching the lingering smell of smoke.

“What happened?” she managed to ask. “Are you okay?”

“I am. Thank God for protective gear is all I can say. Reese and I were caught in a second blaze. Our exit was compromised. We had to go out a window. He's down the hall if you want to say hi.”

“What do you mean your exit was compromised?”

“A staircase collapsed when a different fire started. We lost our hose and then had to go through a window. There was a small explosion when I was on the ladder—probably old chemicals—and I fell about five feet.”

Casey gasped, hating the idea of him tumbling through nothingness. She glanced at the parts of him hidden under the white sheet. “Are you hurt? Is everything…intact?”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “
Everything
. I have some burns on my neck, a few bruises. I inhaled some smoke. I wasn't going to let them keep me here, but my captain wasn't hearing any of it. You just missed Quinn, by the way. She finally decided Reese and I weren't going to croak and left her post.”

“And your family? Do they know about all this?”

“The captain called them about a half hour ago. I was getting ready to call you in a few minutes, but you beat me to the punch.”

Before she could answer, before she could tell him how glad she was that he was all right and how worried she'd been, the door opened and three people poured in, all talking excitedly.

“When do you think he was going to tell us?”

“I can't freaking believe it.”

“It's quite a table.”

As they jostled into the room, Casey knew instantly that this must be Abe's family. She disentangled herself from Abe's arms and stood, smoothing the front of her shirt. A woman with silver-blonde hair and Abe's same hazel eyes took up a position on the other side of the bed and grabbed his hand.

“I can't tell which I'm angrier about,” the woman said. “The fact that I had to find out you were hurt from your captain, or the fact that you're engaged and you didn't tell us.”

“Mom, I'm fine, I—” He stopped abruptly. “Engaged?”

“The nurse told us. Of
all things
, Abe. Holding back from your own family? Oh, but this must be her. Casey, is it? I'm Abe's mom, Julia, and I just have to tell you, we are all so thrilled by the news.” She reached over the bed, clasping Casey's hand in her own.

Casey stared down at the woman's fingers. They were speckled with paint. She swallowed nervously. Oh, God, what had she done? She couldn't just let Abe's mother stand here
holding her hand
and believing this ruse. She had to tell them all she'd made it all up just to get access to the room. “I'm sorry,” she stuttered, pulling away from Abe's mom, “there's been—”

“A delay,” interjected Abe suddenly. Casey's heart sputtered in her chest. She whipped her head to find laughter in Abe's eyes and a barely-pinned-back smile on his face. “We meant to tell you, but the fire got in the way.”

Casey let out a little gasp, but it was lost in the collective “Oh” of understanding that suddenly filled the room.

“Damn, I thought you'd messed it up, bro.” This was from the tall, lean-but-fit man wearing khaki cargo pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. His blond hair and hazel eyes had Casey pegging him as Abe's brother. “From the way you came over to my place all hangdog about her, I assumed it was over. And then to turn it around and get
engaged
? Color me impressed.” He grinned and held out his hand to Casey. “Stu Cameron, by the way. Welcome to the family. For better or for worse.”

Casey managed to take his hand and smile back, but her brain was screaming at her to stop the pretense already. She glared at Abe. She hoped her eyes read
End this now
. But to her dismay, Abe only shrugged.

Before she could spill the truth herself, the older man, whom Casey assumed was Abe's dad, came forward and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I'm Pete,” he said quietly, “and for the first time, I think my son finally has a lick of sense.”

Abe erupted into laughter. “Gee, thanks a lot, Dad,” Abe said. His smile was a warm light. Casey felt drawn to the unabashed joy of it, thinking she'd never seen Abe this happy before. But even so, pretending they were engaged wasn't right. It wasn't the
truth
.

“We can't wait to celebrate properly,” Julia said. “But in the meantime, tell us how you're feeling. What happened and how bad is it?”

Abe deftly switched the conversation over to the fire, explaining the two fires and how he'd gotten out, leaving Casey bewildered and tongue-tied. With every passing minute, the conversation moved farther away from their engagement, making any explanation of how and why she'd invented the story more and more distant. At one point Abe reached over and twined his fingers with hers. And, God help her, she let him. The feel of him was so reassuring, so wonderful, that she couldn't bear to pull away.

Never mind that a little part of her didn't mind the idea that they were “engaged.” Okay, maybe not such a little part. Maybe a big part that was growing with each passing minute. The idea of being with Abe for life didn't knock her off kilter, not by a long shot. It accomplished just the opposite, in fact—it grounded her to the here and now in a way that had her toes wiggling in her shoes.

It almost didn't matter that they still had a huge hurdle to overcome, one that rhymed with
kids
.

Casey pressed her palm against Abe's, wondering if they made a good enough team that no matter what came their way, they could tackle it together. Children seemed like such an unmovable barrier, though. Was it possible for them to scale it?

Casey wanted to try. She wanted to be honest and tell Abe that she loved him. And when she did, she'd force the kids issue and see if it was a deal breaker. She pictured Carter, and all the kids like him who were already in this world and needed help. Her heart ached for them. She wanted to reach out to them if she could.

Even so, becoming a foster parent might not be enough for Abe—he might need his own kids. A lot of people did, after all, and she didn't blame them one bit.

She wouldn't—she
couldn't
—hold it against Abe if he felt that way, too.

A dark, dead weight formed inside her, and at its center was worry that that would be the case. But then at least she'd
know
. If she came clean about her wants, then at least she'd be truthful and not hide behind her list forever, pretending she was doing just fine.

The future with Abe might hold hurt, same as it might hold hope. She'd just have to take a chance and find out.

“I'm actually pretty tired,” Abe was saying as Casey tuned back in to the conversation. “Maybe you could give my fiancée and me a minute here before visiting hours end?”

“Yes, of course,” Julia replied, one of her paint-flecked hands smoothing back Abe's blond hair. “We'll leave you be.”

Whatever graceful exit they were going to take was interrupted by Betty storming into the room, the nurse in the maroon scrubs close on her heels.

“Casey, we gotta go!” Betty's eyes were bright, her skin was pink and shining.

“What in the world?” Casey asked. Her blood pounded with concern about more bad news. Had Audrey been hurt? Or even Kieran?

“Ma'am, you cannot be in here,” the nurse was saying. “I gave you explicit instruc—”

“Willa's having her baby!” Betty said, ignoring the nurse and elbowing her way farther into the crowded room. She grabbed Casey's hand and started pulling her toward the door. “Come on already. She's two floors up. The other girls are already here. Let's move.”

“Wait, what? She wasn't due until January.”

“I guess the baby had other plans.”

Casey barely had time to get a wave good-bye in. “Nice to meet you!” she called over her shoulder to Abe's family as Betty hauled her out of the room. Her eyes happened to catch Abe's, and she didn't have to wonder if there was more laughter there. She could hear it, as he cracked up loud enough to have a smile creasing her own face, too.

Casey had to trot to keep up with Betty's short, quick steps. “When was Willa admitted?” Casey asked, more breathless than she thought she should be trying to go two floors up in the White Pine Hospital.

“A few hours ago. Burk called me when she was first going into labor, and I told everyone in the recipe exchange to haul ass and come down here. I guess it's happening pretty quickly.”

Happiness ballooned inside Casey. She was delighted for her friend. “Do you think the new arrival will get here before visiting hours end?”

Betty grunted. “If she doesn't, they'll have to drag me out of here by the hair. I am not waiting another twelve hours to see that baby.”

Together, they huffed into the labor and delivery waiting room, where Anna, Stephanie, and Audrey were already gathered. The group of them were all standing—Audrey was pacing with nervous, frenetic energy; Anna was pulling on strands of her ebony hair; and Stephanie was rummaging through her purse until she pulled out a piece of gum with a triumphant flourish.