When the fire truck passed him ten minutes earlier, he didn’t think much of it. When the ambulance flew around him just three minutes later, he didn’t want to believe it, but he pressed his foot to the gas. When he followed the emergency vehicle through the gates, the empty sound of her unanswered phone was still ringing through his truck’s speakers.
He didn’t remember stopping and getting out, just that he was running. Heart slamming against his ribs as he sprinted toward a nightmare. It seemed like hours for his eyes to track around, take in the scene. Seeing everything except what he was looking for.
Flames thirty feet high lit up the night. Men’s voices shouted above a sound he wouldn’t have associated with a fire. Sparks flew, bright orange against the dark sky. Blue and red emergency vehicle lights spun over the entire scene.
And above it all his repeating mantra. Don’t let her be in there.
Would she have seen the fire from her house? Maybe not. Maybe she was at home, in bed.
Hannah. Don’t let her be in there.
His mind screamed her name. His throat was closed with absolute terror. Voice cut off. He had the random thought that this must be why people couldn’t scream in a nightmare.
This is a nightmare.
Would she go in there? For the horses? His stomach turned as his mind answered that question. Another ambulance bumped over the ground to his left, siren wailing, lights flashing into the chaos.
Firemen yelled and pointed to the emergency technicians and he followed their line of sight to a body on the ground. And he ran.
He reached her, dropped on weak knees beside her. “Hannah?”
Her head turned and she lowered the mask that covered her nose and mouth. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t understand, or couldn’t hear, over the blood pounding in his own head. Moving. Alive.
Was she hurt? Was she burned? He lifted a shaky hand and ran it over her hair, searched her face. The same face he’d looked into just hours ago, now covered with black soot except for the white lines tracking from the corners of her eyes.
“Lexie.” She said the name and coughed so hard her small body strained off the ground. He helped her sit up, adjusted the oxygen mask over her mouth so that every time she wheezed, her lungs would fill.
A paramedic rushed over. “We need to get you checked out at the second ambulance.”
“Is she okay? The other—Lexie.”
Stephen’s eyes landed on the figure lying still on the grass.
“They’re working on her,” the woman said. “Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
She started to stand, but Stephen lifted her slight body into his arms. She’d been in that fire. She’d been in that fire.
“I can walk.”
He was literally shaking with fear. “Be quiet.”
“The horses. I need—” She broke off in a fit of coughing.
“Someone else will have to take care of the horses,” Stephen said.
“Got them out, but I don’t…know where they are. I should—”
“No. You shouldn’t.”
Another car flew into what already looked like an emergency parking lot. Nick flung open the driver’s side door and shot out. “Hannah!”
Stephen saw Nick’s stricken expression as he immediately started for the ambulance where they were strapping the still body of a woman to a stretcher. He knew what Nick felt because he was still feeling it. And wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.
“Nick!” Stephen yelled over the chaos.
Nick looked back in bewilderment and took a second to stop the race to what he thought was his sister before changing gears and direction.
“I’m okay.” She strained to speak when Nick reached them.
Nick stared another second, then his eyes met Stephen’s.
“She’s not hurt,” Stephen told him. “It’s Lexie.”
Nick’s face had gone from terror to relief and now a bit of guilt as he looked back toward the paramedics loading the body into the ambulance.
“Come on. You should get checked out.” Nick reached for his sister.
“I’ve got her,” Stephen told him.
An internal battle played out over Nick’s hard face as he looked at his sister. He squeezed the back of his neck, then he brought his eyes to Stephen’s and a kind of understanding passed between them. “I’ll make sure Lexie’s sisters are called. Talk to Zach.”
Hannah nodded and Stephen was walking.
—
Stephen carried Hannah through the house, his house. He’d wanted her safe and somehow, in his mind, that equated to getting her away from there. He needed to be in control, and that was here.
“I can walk,” she repeated for the third time.
“Forget it.” He stood her in his bathroom and stripped her blackened clothes, every thread reminding him where she’d been. What could have happened beating at him as he helped her shower off the worst of it.
“Is the water too hot?” Her skin was bright red in little places on her arms and face. Just seeing them made him sick. Proof she’d been inside that burning inferno.
“No. It feels good.”