DAVID PUSHED AGAINST THE charred door. It fell to the side, sending showers of sparks flying as it hit the floor. Somewhere beyond the flames, he could hear the constant beep of the PASS device.
“Toby, over here.”
Together, they shoved past the furniture slowly being consumed by the licking flames. David, with his hand on Toby’s shoulder, followed further into the smoky room. The beeps sounded louder.
“Here!”
Jason’s voice, laced with pain, came from the right corner of the room. They pushed an easy chair out of the way. Jason, on his side, pulled off his mask and gripped his left knee. Lying beside him was part of a ceiling rafter.
“Stupid board fell on me. Twisted my knee.” He grimaced as he tried to move.
“Take him, Toby.” David pulled Jason to his feet.
Toby’s arm snaked around Jason’s chest, and they hobbled out through the burning room.
“Command, found him. Need EMS standing by.”
“Roger that. Be advised . . .”
David’s radio crackled. “Command, say again. I did not read.” He smacked his radio. At the same time a beam from the far side of the room crashed into the window. Fed with fresh oxygen, the fire leapt to life.
“David! Look out!”
Toby’s voice was lost in the uproar of flames. David fell to his knees and shielded his face against the sudden onslaught of heat. The flames rolled over him and toward the window.
“Go. Get him out!” David got to his feet and hunched over, avoiding the fire eating away at the ceiling. “I’m right behind you!”
Toby led the limping Jason through the smoke and toward the door where helping hands would be waiting.
Fire consumed the house. The flames ate their way toward David as he made his way through the hallway. He felt that he had always walked through hell, and it never had scared him, but this fire was different.
It licked and caressed the walls and ceiling, determined to consume it all. Just steps away loomed the door. Toby and Jason’s backs had disappeared through the smoke. It swirled, but before David took a step, a sudden roar filled the hallway.
A blast of extreme heat hit him full force in his chest. He flew back, landing hard on his side. He struggled to his feet, only to have one collapse beneath him, and the other to fall through the floorboards.
The uproar of the fire drowned his scream. Above him, boards and chunks of sheetrock slammed down. Boxes fell from the attic. White and black smoke wafted around him.
He clawed at the floorboards and managed to pull his leg out of the hole. The fire rushed and danced above. Even through his gloves, the heat from the downed board seared through. He dragged himself away from the hole and reached for his radio. Pieces dangled from its clip.
Oh, great. David tried to regain his footing. Pain shot through his leg. He bit back his curse as he fell to his side.
Around him, hell grew and turned its eyes on him. For the first time, fear touched him.
He twisted and pulled his tank off his back to read the gauge. Not much left. This was his third time in, and his tank was running dry.
Not that it would do much good, anyway. A crack ran the length of his mask. The smells of burning wood, carpet, and other materials entered his nostrils.
A rafter above crashed into the floor and fell through. Definitely needed to get out. The hallway was not safe. He used his one good leg and scooted down the hallway. He paused outside a bedroom door. His broken mask clattered to the floor as he flipped it off his head.
With his teeth, he pulled off a glove and felt the door. No heat. He struggled with the glove. It refused to slide back on his hand. He used it and gripped the door knob. The door swung inside. Thick smoke billowed down the hallway, drawn to the fresh air. He coughed and dragged himself inside the untouched master bedroom.
Sanctuary, for the moment. He shoved the door closed and looked around the room through watery eyes. If he could get to the window, he could get out of this devil’s den. He reached around him.
Where was his mask? David looked around on the floor. Great. He had left it in the hall. He hesitated. Maybe he could make it back through the doorway to get it.
A sudden crack dominated the unearthly silence of the room.
A part of the ceiling fell down. He ducked flying debris. Heat flooded the room as the fire from the attic fell through. Hell’s flames blocked his way to safety.
But it no longer mattered.
The fire was unimportant as it smiled, slowly creeping its way to him. In the deafening laughter of the fire, a steady rhythmic beeping marched along with his heartbeat. That was a new one–the fire beating out a high-pitched tempo.
Strength melted from his body. He lay among the debris and watched the flames creep closer to claim him. Pain streaked through his leg. His mind focused on the dancing flames. Smoke lulled him to sleep. His eyes blinked lower and lower.
“Too many regrets.” His voice rasped in his throat as he spoke to the fire. He tried to draw in a deep breath. His chest shuddered from the painful, hacking cough. “Should have told the truth.”
Maggie. Her name entered his mind. His floating pink angel. The flames grew taller. “I should have told her.”
He tried to raise a hand of defiance to the flames, but his arm refused to budge. Did someone spill glue? Why was he stuck to the floor? Through the haze, heat battered him, and calmness and peace settled around his heart.
It wasn’t a bad way to die. He would be unconscious before he felt the flames burn him. Too bad he didn’t get a chance to have a last meal. A good slice of steak, medium rare, loaded baked potato. Scratch that. Make it an apple pie and maybe a chocolate shake. Yeah, something sweet. Like Maggie.
A white light hit him in the face. Huh, so that part of death was true.
“We found him!”
Well, that declaration didn’t fit with the program.
Rough hands rolled him over. The pain in his ankle shot through his leg. Off the floor he rose. Was he floating?
No. There were feet under his head. And a hand with no glove. Wait, that was his hand. Someone carried him. So, he wasn’t dead yet.
Smoke and flames swirled. Voices shouted. Then bright light. He hit the ground hard.
“Get those turnouts off!”
Hands pulled at his clothes. He fought against them.
His jacket pulled at him and then disappeared, and his pants and boots slid off him. White light hit his eyes again.
“Pupils are dilated. Crank the oxygen. Full.”
What? A mask slipped over his face, and some of the haze receded, but his body still refused to properly obey him. Jeremy’s face blurred in front of him.
“Hey, little brother. You’ll be okay.” Jeremy’s face came closer.
David reached out to his brother. “I’m naked, and no one bought me dinner first.”
Jeremy laughed, and his hand rested lightly on David’s face. “No. You’re not. We just had to remove the turnouts.”
David patted at his brother’s tactical vest. A cough racked his chest.
“You know,” Jeremy shook his head, “you are one lucky man.”
David smiled and tried to push the mask aside. “No. I’m–”
“Don’t try to talk. Let the oxygen work.” Jeremy disappeared from his vision.
He stared at the sky above. The haziness receded a little. Apparently, he wasn’t going to die today. Wasn’t that good? Another cough ripped through his dry throat. Oh, man, he needed a drink. He smiled through one more cough as paramedics loaded him into the ambulance.
He craved water. That was a first.
: : : : :
“So, weren’t you scared?” Maggie dipped her hand into the water, letting the current flow through her fingers. “I mean, you were trapped. Sounds almost like something out of a movie.”
David settled the oars on the bottom of the rowboat as they lazily drifted across the small pond behind his parents’ house. He shrugged. “Yes and no.”
“That isn’t an answer.” She scooted to the seat in front of him and sat with her back to him. He bent down and wrapped his arms around her, holding her as his chin rested on top of her head. His heart thudded against her back. She stroked his clasped hands and relaxed against him. “Either you were or you weren’t.”
His breath stirred her hair as he spoke. “At first I was. Thought I was going to die. That’s the second time I felt that. Once at the river, and now the fire. All I could think was that I never did tell the whole truth. Then, I felt peace inside me.”
Maggie tried to turn around to face him, but his arms clamped tighter, holding her still. He stretched out his leg with the ankle brace. His lips tickled her ear. “Don’t turn around. I’ll never be able to tell you if you look at me.”
Fear settled into her heart. What could be so bad that he had to hide from her as he spoke? He laid his cheek against hers. Hot skin against her cool skin. She nodded. “Okay. Go ahead, then. What do you mean, the whole truth?”
“Before I do, can you tell me something?”
She nodded again. A cloud moved in front of the sun. Gray light settled over the pond. The birds quieted. “Yes.”
“Did you mean it when you told your father to tell me that you would always be here for me?”
“Oh, David.” She pulled his arms tighter around her as she pressed her head against his. She could do this. “Always.”
A deep sigh shuddered inside his chest and rattled against her back.
“I’ve kept a secret for three years now. And your father said I will have to release it to be released from the alcohol.” He cleared his throat. “Two weeks before the wedding, Rebecca found out . . .” His fingers drummed against her hands.
Long moments passed. Maggie waited. Found out what? She swallowed. She could guess the answer to that.
His breathing grew heavy, and a wet drop hit her shoulder. She reached behind her and found his cheek. Tears slicked it. She caressed him. “Go ahead, sweetie. You’ll feel better. Just say it. In a rush. It’s the best way.”
He nodded. His voice rasped in her ear. “She found out she was six weeks pregnant . . .” His chest shook, but he continued. “We decided not to tell anyone, least of all her parents. Pass it off as a honeymoon baby. No one would know.”
Knowing what it might have been was one thing, but actually hearing it was another. Maggie’s heart broke. Tears fell from her eyes. He didn’t fight her as she gently turned around on the bench to face him.
“My child died, Maggie! Rebecca and my child.” He hid his face behind his hands. His body shuddered.
She didn’t know what to say. To have lived with that pain. The torture that he put himself through. Her brows drew together. No matter what, he needed her.
She grabbed his hands and pulled them away from his face. Tears enhanced his eyes, darkening the lashes. “Come here.”
With slow movements so the boat wouldn’t tip over, she knelt in front of him and brought his head to her chest. His arms encircled her, holding on for life. She laid her cheek against his head, the hair tickling her nose.
He needed another haircut. She buried her fingers in the long strands and kissed his head. Her David. So much hurt and pain consumed him. She looked heavenward. Oh, please let him find peace. Let him see that someone loved him.
“It ate at me.”
“It will when you keep it to yourself, love. David, look at me.” She pushed him away.
He lifted his face to hers. His finger reached out and traced her lips. “You don’t think badly of me?”
“Oh, sweetie, no.” She captured his hand in hers and kissed his fingertips. Tears slid down the side of her face. “You grieved for Rebecca, but you never allowed yourself to grieve for your child. It’s time. You need to let go of the pain. Let God heal you, love.”
Fresh tears pooled in his eyes before, one by one, they trickled down his cheeks and over the faint bruises. “You’re too good for me.”
“Shh. No such thing. We were brought together for a reason. Now, cry to your heart’s content. Let the pain go.” She pulled him to her again and held him. Her arms held him against her chest. His body shuddered with each wave of pain.
Time slowed.
The sun broke through. Its bright rays played against the water, glinting into her eyes. Ducks in the distance glided towards them, calling out in greeting.
His shudders slowed until they stopped completely. Her shirt stuck to her chest, wet and hot. He sniffed.
“They want bread.” David pulled away. He swiped at his cheeks and gave her a trembling smile. “Mom’s been feeding them.”
“And that’s why you brought the stale crackers along?”
“Well, if I didn’t, they wouldn’t leave us alone.”
Maggie laughed. “You did it because you like feeding them.”
He ducked his head as a blush colored the tips of his ears. “Don’t tell Mom. I enjoy giving her a hard time about the quackers.”
She brushed a thumb across his cheek, wiping away a trail of wetness. A softness dominated his eyes now. “Better?”
“I am now.” He captured her hand and held it, threading his fingers through hers. “I . . .”
Maggie placed a hand on his mouth. “Shh.”
He tensed for a second as her hand left his mouth and her lips met his, but he sighed and relaxed. His lips moved with hers in a gentle, soft kiss. The first one they shared since he left the festival.
She smiled against him, her hands still looped around his neck. “Let’s feed the ducks before they climb into the boat.”
: : : : :
Jeremy waved to Maggie as she drove away. A clatter echoed from the garage. He stepped over Fat Tom and spied David in the corner, head buried under the hood of his Fastback.
“You think you’ll get it running?”
David’s head popped up and whacked the hood. He grimaced and threw him a hard look. “Eventually. What’s up? You checking up on me?”
“That. Plus, Sarah asked me to drop off some stuff for Mom. Scrapbooking things.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction Maggie took. “You and Maggie good now?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yeah. We worked it out.” David reached for the bottled water and took a swig. He sighed and returned to the motor. “She had to go check on Mrs. Axelbury at the store.”
Jeremy stepped up to the car. The oppressive heat in the garage prickled his skin. His department hadn’t released the summer uniforms, and rolling up the sleeves didn’t help one bit. He picked at his uniform and pulled it away. “Anyway, I was heading in to work and thought I would see how things were going with you.”
David sighed. “I’m fine. I won’t lie and say that I don’t crave a drink. I do. All the time.”
“Dad said you had a bad night the other week.”
A scowl marred David’s face as he took another drink from the water bottle. “Did he? Should have known he would tell you.”
Jeremy leaned his hip against the side of the black car. “He called Darlene too. For prayer, stupid. Not to gossip.”
He hopped away as David swung a greasy wrench at him.
“David.”
“Jeremy.” A malicious smile flitted across David’s face and disappeared, but a hard look still gleamed in his brother’s eyes.
“I’m heading into work. Don’t mess with the uniform, man. We’ve got inspection today.”
David snorted and resumed his engine work. “Well, be a good boy and head on to work.”
“You’re really out of sorts today.” Jeremy arched his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the plastered shirt off his back. David’s water bottle sparkled in the sunlight and overhead lights. “Why didn’t you just push the car outside to work?”
“Shade in here.”
Jeremy picked up the bottle. He frowned. “It’s not cold. Whatdja do? Just get it from the pantry?”
“Mom didn’t have any cold ones, but that’s fine with me. Learned to drink what I could get.” He made a grab for it.
Jeremy pulled away from his greasy hand. “Hold up. It’s hot. Just want a drink.”
As he unscrewed the top, David gritted his teeth.
“There’s a cold one inside. I put them in earlier. Go get one.”
“Nah. Just need a swallow is all.” Jeremy lifted the bottle. David’s hand closed over it just as the hot, burning liquid coursed down his throat. Jeremy gasped and ripped the bottle from his brother’s hand. He slapped his palm against his brother’s chest. “Vodka!”
David closed his eyes. “I just needed a small drink. To calm my nerves. That is all.”
Jeremy closed his fist over David’s shirt and pulled him closer. “You can’t have any drink whatsoever. Don’t you understand that?”
David slapped at his hands, knocking them loose. He made a grab at the bottle, but Jeremy threw it across the garage and into the driveway.
“You–”
A fist slammed into his face.
Jeremy fell against the concrete floor. Just when his lip had healed. He spat a mouthful of blood to the floor. David strode across the garage toward the bottle.
Jeremy jumped up, grabbed his brother by the back of his shirt, and hurled him into the wall. He pressed David against it, his arm across his throat. “You are so dumb. How are you going to quit if you keep slipping in drinks?”
“I can. I need it every once in a while.”
“You idiot.”
Jeremy doubled over as a knee rammed into his stomach. David’s fist slammed across his cheek.
David sprinted over him, but Jeremy grabbed his brother’s leg and sent him sprawling over the floor. He jumped to his feet and approached David, who staggered to stand.
Jeremy cut his brother’s curse short with a quick jab to the face. David rolled with the punch and delivered a wicked blow into his side.
Jeremy grappled with David, each trying to find a good hit. Jeremy took another blow to the side. He snarled and sent David stumbling into the driveway with a push.
David clenched his fists and glared as he approached.
“Stop it, David.” Jeremy stood his ground. He winced. It was going to hurt taking his brother down this time.
David swung a right hook at him. Jeremy blocked him and grunted as David’s left connected with his ribs. He ducked another swing and delivered his own blow against his brother’s ribs.
David fell to the side, holding his ribs. Yeah, not completely healed yet. Jeremy grabbed David’s shirt and rammed his knee into his brother’s face. He snarled. His stupid brother needed to be taught a lesson, one way or another.
David grabbed his leg. His breath left him as he landed on his back.
A fist hammered down on him. Jeremy took a blow to the chin, parried another, and then captured his brother’s fist in his hand. He jacked a leg up into David’s back and sent him into the ground behind his head.
He rolled over and pinned David down, his legs holding David’s down. He had almost two inches on his brother, and he’d use every last one to keep the hothead under control. David’s head banged against the hard ground as Jeremy plowed his fist into his face. His knuckle opened a cut on his brother’s face. Then he was on the ground.
Jeremy bounded up to leap back at his brother and faltered midstep. His father stood there. Red anger flushed his dad’s face. David gingerly picked himself up from the ground. He spat a wad of blood from his mouth.
“What is going on?” Dad’s bellow scattered the birds from the oak tree. He moved to stand between them. His arms splayed to his sides at chest level, keeping them away from each other. “Jeremy?”
“He’s drinking again.”
“You–” David leapt for him, but his dad’s hand held him back.
Dad pulled David closer. David grabbed at his father’s hand and looked away. “That true?”
“Big deal. I watered down the vodka.” David sagged against the hold on his shirt.
Jeremy snarled. “You idiot. It’s still alcohol.”
His dad’s hand slammed into his chest and hauled him closer. “You, shut up. Alcohol addiction isn’t easy.”
He pushed at them. They stumbled back. “David, Jeremy, with me.”
Jeremy looked at his brother as he skirted a wide path around him and followed their dad. His dad found the bottle, half empty on the driveway. He picked it up and handed it to Jeremy.
“What do you want me to do with this?”
Dad faced him. No emotion showed. A coldness from his eyes raked over him. “You will hold it.” He turned to David, who stood well behind them. “And you, where are the rest of them?”
David glared at Jeremy and then limped forward, hands in pockets.
“Jeremy.”
He glared at David’s back and followed, pouring out the watered-down vodka as he went. Dumb-headed brother. Always causing trouble. David stopped in the corner of the garage and pulled a bottle out of the small toolbox. He handed it to their dad. Jeremy accepted it when it was passed his way.
Without a sound, Jeremy followed David around the house as he went to the old grill. Another bottle of liquor was passed to him. Jeremy raised an eyebrow at the label. José Cuervo. Good tequila.
Soon, four hiding places later and with Jeremy’s arms laden with bottles of liquor, David turned and shrugged. “That’s all.”
Dad narrowed his eyes for a moment and then turned to Jeremy. “I want you to carry your brother’s burden to the laundry room. There you will hold them until he empties every last one.”
Their dad walked past the hedgerow. Jeremy turned his gaze to David. His brother stared back through a dust-covered face.
The bottles stacked in his arms were at risk of falling to the ground. They needed to get this over with so he could clean up and get to work. “After you, dear brother.”
David scowled. Jeremy followed him through the patio door, past the kitchen, and into the laundry room. Jeremy started to put the bottles on the counter, but his mom’s voice spoke from the kitchen.
“Your dad just called from the pond. He said that you had to hold them. You cannot put them on the counter.”
She peeked around the door jamb. “And David, you have to pour each of them out. Go ahead.”
“You’re watching?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s for you two to do alone.” Her eyes traveled from one to the other. “Remember when you two used to fight growing up? So many fistfights, until one day, your dad sat you down and explained the role of brothers.” She smiled softly. “I love you two, but y’all are really trying my patience. You need to find your peace or I swear, I will take you to task.”
Jeremy hid his smile. His little mamma whooping up on them drew a reluctant smile. He glanced up at David, who pressed his lips tightly together. A faint dimple in his cheek was the only indication that he was hiding his own amusement.
David met his eyes. Jeremy couldn’t help it. He smiled and then started laughing. David joined in.
His mom glared at them. “Men!”
She stomped off. “And make sure you wash it out of the sink. I won’t have my laundry room smelling like a brewery.”
They chorused. “Yes, ma’am.”
David drew in a breath. “Guess I should get started?”
Jeremy stepped closer to his brother and the sink. Dad and his lessons. First the Bible school lesson and now this. He nodded at the far right bottle of Bacardi. “Take the rum. It’s about to fall, and then we’d be sweeping and mopping. I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to add housework to the list.”
David drew the bottle from the pile and twisted off the top. He upended it. The brown liquid splashed into the sink. “Neither do I.” He threw the empty bottle into the trash can.
Jeremy nodded to the tequila bottle. “That’s the next one.”
David pulled it out of his arms. “I’m sorry. I really am trying.”
Jeremy heaved a sigh. “I believe you. Just don’t mess up again. You can do this. Okay?”
His brother’s back tensed as he poured the drink down the drain. “I hear you.”
Jeremy handed him a bottle of Glen Livet. His brother sure had expensive tastes. He gazed at David as he opened the bottle and pulled the cork. David might have heard, but did he listen?
He looked at his arms, holding his brother’s liquor bottles. He heard his father’s lesson. Apparently he was to be his brother’s keeper. Just great. Just absolutely great.