“No!” She dragged air into her lungs. “Please, give me a moment.”
“Panic attack?” he asked in a gentle, quiet, calm voice.
She simply nodded, hating to admit what felt like a weakness. Yet she saw no censure in his gaze. Only concern.
“Still damn serious. I could hear you struggling for breath back up the path.” He leaned toward her. “Scared the hell out of me. If something happened to you, I’d never forgive myself. And neither would anybody else.”
“Not your fault,” she whispered. For some reason, her breath came a little easier.
“We need our Christmas angel.”
She rolled her eyes. Just what she didn’t want to hear. She couldn’t seem to get away from angels in this town.
“Do you have an inhaler in your room?”
She nodded, pulling a deeper breath into her lungs. She felt a little better. Maybe her symptoms were receding as quickly as they’d come.
“I’ll get it.”
“No!” She felt her chest tighten again. “Dark. Alone.” She reached out to him, feeling unreasoning fear begin to take root again. “Smoke.”
“Smoke?” He went down on both knees to clasp her hand. “Okay. I understand. I won’t leave you.”
She moved closer to him, coming up out of the water a bit, never mind her wet clothes. She covered her mouth with the palm of one hand, as if to silence her harsh breath or reassure her body, while she held on to him with the other. Somehow he comforted her. Maybe that was one of the important things that firefighters learned to do, along with putting out flames. Often there were victims. Too often innocent people never made it out of fires alive. She shivered hard all over.
“Listen to me,” he said. “Focus on my voice. You’re safe. No fires are anywhere near here. You’re safe.”
She nodded as she felt her breath come easier and her heart rate slow down. He was right. She knew it, but she still needed to hear it, particularly from a firefighter.
“You sound better.”
“Yes.” She took a deeper breath, feeling strength and clarity start to return so that she felt more normal.
“I’m going to let go of your hand, but I’m not leaving you.” He sat down on the edge of the pool, jerked off his socks and boots, tossed them aside, and put his feet in the water. “Come here.”
She wanted the comfort of his arms, but if she gave in to her weakness now, how did she go forward when she was alone again?
“Misty, I understand. We’ve all had moments when we needed somebody to be there for us. It’s okay to reach out for help.” He dropped his hands to his knees. “Please don’t be afraid of me. I got you into this situation, so it’s my fault. But if you hadn’t been there when and where you were, we’d have lost a lot.” He took a deep breath. “Come here, Christmas angel.”
“No angel.”
“Yes, you are. Today you saved our town and much of our county. Saved lives. Saved Dudley’s ranch house. Probably saved a Christmas tree farm. In my book that means you saved Christmas for hundreds of little kids this Christmas, next Christmas, and the Christmas after that.”
She shook her head at his reasoning.
“I know what it’s like since it happens every time I fight a fire. After it’s all over, after the adrenaline winds down, after everybody’s gone home, that’s when the fear or exhausting fatigue can hit. I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have put you through this for the world.”
“And you?” She reached out, reacting to a surprising need to comfort him. He clasped her hand and rubbed his rough thumb across her palm.
He smiled as he jerked his head toward the table. “I brought beer and barbeque, didn’t I? Best comfort food I know.”
She nodded while tension unraveled in her chest. She took a deep breath as her heart slowed to an almost normal level. He understood. He’d been on the front line of fires. He’d felt the surge of conflicting emotions. He knew what it was like to win and lose in the fight for life.
“I’m here for you, trained and everything.” He chuckled, a deep, reassuring sound. “Why don’t you give me the chance to use what I spent all that time learning to do?”
She smiled, even as she realized he was intentionally trying to reassure her and lighten the situation.
“That’s better.”
She acknowledged that his training was working for her. She did feel stronger, like a computer overriding its programming. Yet maybe he wasn’t the answer. Maybe anybody would’ve done in his place. Maybe she just needed not to be alone. Still, she couldn’t help but doubt herself. He was here, not anybody else. And he understood.
“Much better.” He squeezed her fingers.
She took a deeper breath as her heart rate ratcheted down another notch. She had to admit he’d affected her strongly from the first. He’d awakened emotions long dormant. She could blame him for her panic attack. She wanted to blame him. But when he gently tugged her toward him, she didn’t.