"Annabel?" he croaked, his voice hoarse and filled with disbelief.
Somehow she found the coolness and self-possession to smile slightly and say, "Hello, Cole."
For a long moment, he stared at her without speaking. Then he said roughly, "I've got to see about Patsy." He stood up, looped the reins around the brass railing so that the team couldn't take off again, and dropped hurriedly to the ground.
That was all he had to say to her? After she had risked her life to help him and keep the runaway team from hurting anyone? Annabel scrambled to her feet and jumped down from the wagon, then ran after him, ignoring the spectators and the other firemen who tried to gather around and congratulate her.
Her helmet had stayed on during the commotion. She reached up, unfastened the strap that went under her chin, and took the helmet off. She tossed it aside, no longer caring if anyone realized she was a woman. She increased her pace, but people kept getting in her way and she couldn't catch up to Cole. It was all she could do to keep track of him in the crowd.
A lot of firemen were gathered around Patsy's fallen form. Cole shouldered his way through them, and Annabel finally lost sight of him as the crowd closed in around him. She made her way to the knot of men and said loudly, "Let me through. Let me through, blast it!"
A gap appeared in front of her as some of the men turned. She saw the surprise on their faces and knew it was because a woman was ordering them around. Too bad, she thought. They could just deal with it if their male egos were wounded. She stepped through the opening and saw Cole kneeling beside Patsy.
The Irishman was sitting up, a woozy smile on his freckled face. "Sure and I'm tellin' ye I'm all right," he protested as Cole put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from standing. " 'Twas a patch o' nice, soft ground I landed on. Like fallin' on a feather bed, it was. If I'd only had a lass to fall on it with . . ."
His voice trailed off, his eyes rolled up in his head, and he went over backward. Cole caught him and lowered him gently to the ground.
With a quick, experienced touch, Cole checked Patsy's arms and legs. "There don't seem to be any broken bones," he said, as much to himself as to the crowd of worried onlookers. "He's got a bump on his head, but it'd take a lot to dent that hard skull. There could be some internal injuries, though."
"There's the ambulance now," one of the firemen said as a wagon with clanging bells drew to a stop nearby. He was wearing the uniform of a lieutenant, and Annabel wondered if he was Lieutenant Driscoll, the head of Cole's engine company.
Cole pushed himself to his feet and looked down at the face of his friend Patsy, who was already coming around again. Cole's expression was so bleak that Annabel's heart went out to him. She stepped up beside him and put a hand on his arm, her touch light and gentle. "Cole. . ." she said.
He turned his head and looked at her, without speaking.
Then he wheeled and stalked away.
Chapter 15
Annabel stared after him for a long moment, shocked and angered by his reaction. His back was stiff and unbending, and as she watched him, anger won out over shock. She broke into a run, ignoring the men who clutched at her sleeve and tried to ask her questions. She didn't stop until she'd caught up with him, grabbed his shoulder, pulled him to a halt, and hauled him around to face her.
"Listen, you jerk," she told him, "in case you didn't notice, I just saved your life back there. The least you can do is say thank—"
She stopped short as she finally noticed the expression in his eyes.
"Cole?" Annabel whispered.
He gave a little shake of his head, like someone coming out of a dream, and the look in his eyes softened a little. But only a little, and his voice was still hard as he said, "What do you want?"
"What do I want?" Annabel echoed. The anger came flooding back. "Well, a little appreciation would be nice."
"Thank you," Cole said dully. "Thank you for making a fool of me."
"What? What are you talking about?"
He gestured toward her fireman's uniform. "Have you been walking around like that all day?" he asked. Then, before she could answer, understanding dawned on his face. "My God, you've been entering the contests disguised as a man, haven't you?"
Annabel's chin lifted defiantly. "I had to show you that I could do what I said. And I have. I did just fine in the ax throw, and I was on the team that won the fire hose battle."
He looked at her, then sighed and shook his head. "It's not about winning," he said quietly. He started to turn away again, then stopped and, choking out the words, said, "When I saw you on that fire wagon and realized you'd been there all along . . . when I thought about what could have happened . . . it scared me."
Annabel's heart lifted. She could scarcely seem to breathe as she said, "Why, Cole? Why were you scared?"