Too Near the Fire (14 page)

The mother’s mouth stretched into an ugly snarl and she lunged at Leah, fists clenched. “You should’ve been here sooner!” she screamed, striking out senselessly.

Stunned, Leah felt the first blow land against her shoulder.

“It’s your fault! Your fault!” the woman sobbed, beating at her wildly.

Leah broke out of her shocked stupor and raised her arm to protect herself. She stood at least five inches taller than the mother. A thousand confused thoughts roared through her head as she tried to grab the woman’s flailing arms. Under the turn-out gear, her face blackened by smoke, Leah knew she was not recognizable as a woman.

“Stop it!” Leah commanded, grabbing one of the woman’s hands and jerking it downward.

The woman sobbed, striking out again, this time with far less force.

Tears blinded Leah’s vision and she made a desperate lunge for the other hand, capturing it. The mother suddenly stopped fighting, her body buckling. If it hadn’t been for Leah, she might have injured herself by striking the hard asphalt surface. Instead, Leah broke her fall. She knelt down, allowing the mother to lean wearily against her body. The woman was sobbing without restraint, gripping Leah’s black coat, her knuckles white and bleeding.

“I’m sorry,” Leah choked, holding the woman. Distractedly, Leah ran her gloved hand against the woman’s short dark hair. “We tried, we tried so hard…. We don’t want your children to die. God, we want them to live,” she whispered brokenly.

“My babies…my babies…” the woman cried hoarsely, clinging to Leah.

Leah shut her eyes tightly, resting her head against the woman, fighting back a sob. “I know…I know…” She held the woman in a viselike grip as the efforts of the paramedics intensified. Their voices were charged with a high degree of emotion, something that rarely occurred. But children were involved and that snapped even the most controlled professional’s composure. It had already broken Leah’s. Dully, she listened to the battle being waged for the second child’s life.

It seemed like hours before the paramedics brought the boy back, but finally they got a response from him. Slowly, Leah got to her feet, pulling the mother up with her. Leah walked her over to the second ambulance. The woman needed to be tranquilized or given some sort of sedative. Leah helped her up into the cab.

“Look, I’m going to get someone to help you. Just sit here. Will you do that for me?”

The mother’s face was ashen, devoid of any emotion now. Shock had set in and she barely acknowledged Leah’s request.

“I’ll be right back,” Leah promised, her voice thick with unshed tears. She trudged wearily back to the other ambulance, finding one of the paramedics standing above the youngest boy.

“Do you have a second?” she asked.

“Yeah. What is it?” he wanted to know wearily, watching the red-haired boy on the gurney.

“The mother…she needs something. I think she’s going into shock,” Leah explained.

“Okay. Thanks for getting her off my back. I couldn’t have worked on that second boy if you hadn’t got her attention.”

“Sure.” Her voice sounded hollow to her ears and she wiped away a trickle of sweat running down her temple. “Just try to help her.”

“We’ll take care of her.”

“Will—will the second boy make it?”

“Dunno. He stopped breathing once from smoke inhalation. It could happen again at any time….”

“What about the other one?”

“He’ll be okay.”

Leah turned away, fighting back the anguish that was threatening to rob her of all control.

He patted her shoulder. “Glad you were here. We owe you one.”

Leah blindly stumbled away and nearly ran into Gil. He gripped her arm, his face suffused with anger.

“Where the hell have you been?”

She looked up dully, her blackened features streaked by tears. “Here, with the mother,” she answered, her voice a whisper.

His fingers tightened. “Dammit, when I tell you to stay put, you stay put! You understand me?” His eyes were angry thunderclouds. “I was worried sick. I thought you’d crawled off somewhere and were more seriously hurt than I’d first believed!”

His snarling voice only added to her pain. “I—I’m going to be sick.” She turned away before leaning over and retching again. Bile stung her mouth and tears flowed down her cheeks. She heard him curse and felt him release the hold he had on her arm. Sinking to her knees, she was wracked by dry heaves until she thought her stomach would destroy itself. Moments later Gil was back with a paramedic.

He leaned down and helped her to stand. This time there was no anger in his voice. “Come on, you’re going over to the hospital.”

“No…” she cried softly.

“No argument. Apache is already on his way there, so you’ll have company. Come on, babe….”

Eight

L
eah lay morosely in the emergency room, smelling of smoke and exhaustion. They had stripped her out of the sweat-soaked turn-out gear. The doctor had checked her lungs, given her an antispasmodic for the vomiting and decided to keep her there for observation. She was too distraught and physically incapacitated to care about the strange looks she had received when they wheeled her in on the gurney. Apache had looked no happier. Exhausted and suffering from smoke inhalation, he was lying in another makeshift room across the hall. She lay there, eyes closed, unable to sleep, unable to forget….

When she awoke she had no idea how long Gil had been standing there watching her. A doctor calling sharply to a nurse to assist him with a cardiac case had startled her awake. Gil reached out, smoothing back damp strands of hair from her forehead.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Like hell,” she answered thickly.

“It was a bad fire.”

Tears swam in her eyes and she blinked several times. Leah searched his grave, exhausted features. “Will the kids make it?”

He managed a broken smile, continuing to caress her face tenderly. “Both of them are in good condition now. You and Apache are the ones we’re concerned about.”

“I feel okay.”

“You don’t lie very well, babe.”

“I may look like hell but that doesn’t mean I can’t go back to work,” she protested, her voice raspy.

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

Leah groaned. “What will the guys think if I can’t go back to work, Gil? I’ve got to go—” She made an effort to sit up. He placed his hand on her shoulder and firmly pushed her back down.

“The guys think you did one hell of a job under the circumstances,” he said, scowling at her. “Apache said you didn’t have to give up your place at the window.” He tapped her shoulder and his voice took on a warning note. “Next time your air pak bell starts ringing first, you leave first. Don’t play Mary Martyr and die from oxygen starvation like you damn near did today.”

Anger flared in her green eyes as she stared up at him. “I had to save the children,” she spit.

His entire body tensed. “Yeah, and you could have ended up on a morgue slab,” he snarled. He gripped her arm, giving her a small shake. “Dammit, I won’t lose you, Leah. Not this way. What you pulled today was stupid. How in the hell can we possibly rescue others if we throw our fire fighters’ lives away during a crisis? What if there had been other people in that house and we were shorthanded? You would have had to go back in and get them, too. Even more people could have lost their lives because you were being heroic. In this business you learn to live to fight fire another day. You learn to think on your feet when people are going to pieces around you. God, if we don’t, then everything will be lost. Don’t you realize that?”

Her heart was pounding with anger and anguish. She jerked free of his grip, breathing heavily. “Get out of here,” she gritted through her teeth. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of the children who had almost died. Suddenly her anger evaporated and she rolled on her side, her back toward him. “Just leave me alone,” she sobbed, gripping the pillow against her face.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” he answered, his voice cold with fury.

* * *

Leah was no longer cognizant of time as she rode back to the station in the fire chief’s car along with Apache and Gil. They were ordered by Chief Anders to pick up their civilian gear and take the rest of the day off. Fire fighters from another crew would take their places for the duration of their shift.

Apache was withdrawn as Gil drove them home. Leah remained silent, riding in the front with Gil. More than once he glanced at her, but said nothing. When they dropped Apache off at his house, Leah saw the fear etched in his wife’s eyes as she came out to the split-rail fence to meet her husband. She embraced him for a long, touching moment.

“I’m okay, Angie,” he mumbled self-consciously, raising his hand in farewell to them.

Leah couldn’t stand the look of love and concern on Angie’s contorted features. Leah looked down at her tightly knotted hands, compressing her lips, glad to be on her way home. The icy silence in the station wagon grew and she shrank inward.

At the apartment building he parked the car and shut off the engine. Gil turned and appraised her.

“You sure you’ll be all right?” he asked, concern in his husky voice.

She refused to meet his eyes. Jerking up her purse, she opened the door and started to slide out of the seat. Almost immediately she felt his hand on her arm. Gil’s fingers stung like a white-hot brand and she strained against his tightening hold.

“At least you can be civil and answer my question,” he said, his tone maddeningly calm.

Leah jerked around, her nostrils flared with fury. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant, I’ll be around another day to fight another fire for you. That’s all you care about—another trained body to fight fires, right?”

His mouth compressed into a thin line and he gave her a measuring stare. “You know I care about you.”

She broke his grip and perched on the edge of the seat, breathing hard.

“I don’t believe a damn word of it,” she said quietly. “At the hospital you were all business. Just a cold and unfeeling machine spewing official rules.”

His azure eyes became stormy as he stared at her. “What are you implying?” he whispered, his voice dangerously low.

“You were only interested in enforcing regulations, Lieutenant. It was obvious you didn’t really care about those children or—” she swallowed hard, her last words choked out “—or about my feelings!” She heard him snarl something but didn’t remain long enough to hear it. She got out of the car and hastily slammed the door behind her. Taking the steps two at a time, she walked quickly to her apartment, digging distractedly in her purse for the keys.

She heard his footsteps and turned, key in hand. Her heart plummeted as Gil gripped her and spun her around to face him. His face was contorted, eyes burning coals. “Don’t you ever run away from me again when you say things like that,” he warned.

“I’m off duty,” she hurled back, wrenching herself free and jamming the key into the door. She twisted the knob and threw the door open.

“But still responsible for your words and actions.”

“I won’t apologize for a thing I said!” she cried. “I think it’s sick to put anyone or anything before a child’s life. You’ll never get me to change my mind on that. Now just get out of here and leave me alone!”

He stood over her, his nostrils dilated with fury as he glared down at her. As tears streamed down her dirty cheeks, he winced visibly.

“Dammit,” he whispered harshly, gripping her by the shoulders, “you don’t understand, do you?”

He was so close, so overpoweringly strong. And she felt so utterly exhausted. Leah placed her hands on his arms, trying to steady herself. “Understand what?” she cried, a sob in her voice.

Suddenly the implacable hardness in his face dissolved. “I nearly lost you out there today,” he rasped. His grip tightened until she felt pain race up her arms. “I won’t lose you, Leah…I won’t.”

Confused, her vision blurred by her own tears, she searched his taut features. What was he saying? His voice was quivering with feeling, with…suddenly she surrendered to the violent emotions of the last few hours. A soft sob rose in her throat.

“Oh, honey,” he said raggedly, pulling her to him, stroking her hair. “God, how I love you.” The words were forced out by the knowledge that she could have very easily died in that fire. Gil had seen other fire fighters die because they’d run out of oxygen in smoke-filled structures. But Leah was alive. And he loved her with a fierceness that overrode his normal logic. He rocked her gently back and forth in his arms, crooning words of comfort in her ear. Finally she stopped crying.

“Come on,” he urged, “you need a quick shower and bed, in that order. You’re exhausted, Leah.”

Numbly, she allowed him to guide her to the bathroom. Her mind felt like a vacuum. He brought in her robe as she painstakingly unbuttoned her blouse with trembling fingers. “Leah?” he questioned softly at the door.

Lifting her chin, she stared across the small space that separated them. Her lips parted, wet with spent tears. Her heart contracted with unspoken love for Gil as she saw the worry in his storm-colored eyes. “I’ll be all right,” she assured him.

Nodding, he closed the door.

The hot shower cleansed away the sweat and smoke from her skin. She emerged much later, the maroon robe wrapped tightly around her body. Her hair hung in dark, damp sheets about her shoulders because she didn’t have the strength to dry it properly. Gil appeared at the end of the hall. She halted a few feet from him, having trouble forming a coherent sentence. “I need sleep….”

“I know,” he murmured, placing his arm around her shoulders. “Come on.”

Wordlessly, Leah allowed him to guide her to the bedroom. He threw back the covers and ordered her into the bed, making sure she was properly tucked in. Her eyelids felt as if they were weighted with lead.

Gil leaned over, caressing her hair. “Go to sleep, honey.”

Those were the last words she remembered as she sank into the chaotic, emotional abyss of sleep.

* * *

Her sleep was punctuated by reoccurring nightmares of the house fire. She felt herself suffocating within the confines of the face mask, clawing wildly at the regulator. Swirling smoke surged around her and Leah heard herself screaming for help. She jerked upright in the bed, sobbing, holding her throat. Her eyes were wide with fear, her breathing irregular and convulsive. It was still daylight, though the rays of the sun were slanting low through the window.