Into the Flames

by Multi-Author

  She was so ready. Her hips began to flex in time with his stroked and her breath caught in her throat.

  “Let go, sweetheart. Just feel it.” He whispered against her breast, then nipped down harder and slid his thumb into her drenched channel.

  Nettie shrieked and bucked up against him. Eli felt something give beneath his thumb as she cried out again. Realizing what he’d done, he pulled his fingers out and used the palm of his hand to soothe the stinging flesh while he kept up the onslaught on her breasts, gradually decreasing in both speed and pressure.

  “Oh, my,” she finally said after he’d collapsed beside her and pulled her into his arms. “Except for the sting, that was magnificent.”

  “I’m sorry, darling.” He kissed her softly. “I didn’t think that would happen. I thought…” he trailed off, unsure how knowledgeable she was about sex. A quick glance at his hand showed a fair amount of blood on his thumb and palm.

  “Unless we actually coupled,” she finished. “I didn’t know that either. I knew there’d be pain the first time you…came inside me. Maybe now we’ve gotten that out of the way.” She didn’t sound as if she was particularly upset.

  “You should probably take a hot bath. I’ve heard that can ease the pain.”

  “So I’ve read—which is where most of my information comes from, by the way. And from what I’ve read, you didn’t…finish. That seems horribly unfair.”

  He brushed some hairs from her cheek. “Nettie, when we marry, the biddies in town will be counting on their fingers. We can’t risk taking this any further until after the wedding night.”

  “Well, there has to be some way to reduce that swelling.” She rubbed his cock. “I do learn quickly. Tell me what to do.”

  “Oh, Christ, Nettie—”

  He wasn’t sure what he was going to say next—probably go to the bathroom and take care of himself while her bath was running.

  Then the fire bell rang.

  “Son of a goddamn bitch.”

  Nettie groaned. “Crude, but accurate. Please stay safe. I’m not done with you yet.”

  “Take that bath.” He stood and began to gather up their clothes. “I’ll pop my head in to let you know when I get home.”

  “Thank you.” She accepted his hand to draw her to her feet and kissed him, hard. “For tonight—and for being careful, as well as for knowing I’ll be awake and worried.”

  He kissed her again at her bedroom door. Then he hurried to his own suite to clean up and change into the proper clothes.

  This fire was the worst one yet. The elementary school wasn’t a huge building, six classrooms and an assembly space that doubled as a gymnasium, but it was built of local timber, and it had been well soaked in gasoline. Thank heavens it was nighttime and none of the students were here.

  Eli and the other men—along with the crews from two neighboring towns, worked for two hours and had it mostly out, when the explosion in the nearby storage shed caught them by surprise.

  Eli saw the flash, heard the roar, and saw something headed toward Boone, one of the younger men, a newlywed with a baby on the way. Eli threw himself on top of the other men and felt the sear of pure fire enter his thigh. Moments later, Boone pushed him over, spoke anxious words that Eli couldn’t hear. Other men gathered round, including Stan, who helped lift Eli onto a stretcher.

  Eli knew he was fading. He looked up at Stan, not sure if the other man could hear. “Tell Nettie,” he said—or thought he did. There still wasn’t any sound and his vision was going hazy. “Tell Nettie I love her.”

  Chapter Nine

  After her bath, Nettie dressed in one of her old skirts and blouses, since by then Diana was home to help. She even had Diana put her braid up into a knot at her neck. She didn’t know why tonight was different, why all the hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end, but she couldn’t help it. After they were married, she decided, she would wait at the firehouse, with or without any of the other women.

  At ten, Diana went to bed and Nettie went downstairs to tell the VanCleves they could go back to their flat above the garage. She paced the library, finding no comfort in the books as she usually did.

  A noise at the back of the house caught her attention, and she saw flames licking the corners of the carriage house. While she watched, a trail of flame zipped across the path to the house. It was as if someone had poured a line of gasoline, so both structures would burn.

  Nettie ran upstairs, shook Diana awake, and sent her to run to the neighbors for help, since the fire department was somewhere else. Nettie then ran around the house to avoid the flames between buildings and rang the bell that would summon the VanCleves from upstairs.

  “Hurry,” she screamed. “Fire!”

  The neighbors began to arrive, some with buckets or shovels. Tim VanCleve ran down in his pajamas to turn on the garden hose, and his wife was right behind him with an armload of blankets. The neighbor men grabbed the blankets and began to smother some of the areas of fire while Tim sprayed others with the hose.

  Nettie grabbed a blanket, beating at the house with both arms, despite any lingering pain from her fracture. By the time it was out, the general consensus was that little structural damage had been done, mostly thanks to Nettie’s rapid response.

  The next-door neighbor’s wife came out and asked everyone in for coffee and sandwiches. She and Diana had been busy indoors, as had another couple wives. Nettie washed up as best she could and let Diana fix her hair.

  The neighbors decreed that they were all sleeping there that night, since there could be unseen damage to Eli’s home. Tim went off to stick a note on the door for Eli, but returned moments later with Stan Glenn, the fire department’s full-time man.

  “Eli has been hurt,” he said without preamble. “I’m supposed to bring you to the hospital.”

  “You go ahead,” Diana said. “The VanCleves and I will be right behind you, as soon as we get dressed.”

  Nettie nodded, and followed Stan out to his truck. “How bad?” she asked once they were moving.

  “I’m not going to lie,” the older man said. “It was touch and go when we got him there. He’s lost a lot of blood and the doc was talking about taking off his leg. He was asking for you, though, so here we are.”

  Would he survive? If he did, would he be crippled, scarred? She had no idea. All she knew was that if he lived, she would be there to deal with whatever else happened.

  “Looks like your father wasn’t the only fire bug. Tim told me about Eli’s house.”

  Nettie nodded grimly. She didn’t want to talk. She wasn’t sure she could, not without sobbing. Once they got to the hospital, she was ushered by the entire fire department down a long hallway to a curtained room.

  “He saved me,” one of the men said. “That axe head was coming at me. If he dies, or loses his leg, it’s because of me.”

  Axe head? Dear God!

  “Eli’s a tough one,” Stan said loudly. Now get out of the way, you thugs and let the lady through.”

  She entered the dimly lit room to find Eli lying still and white as a bar of soap, his leg swathed in bandages and elevated with pulleys. She sat beside him and took one of his hands in both of hers, cast and all.

  “He’s been sedated.” Dr. Lexington stood in the doorway. “As long as infection doesn’t set in, he should be able to keep the leg. The axe nicked his femoral artery, but we’ve got that stitched up. Several of the lads offered blood for transfusion. If there’s no reaction to the blood, he should survive. Neither muscle nor bone seem unduly damaged, but of course, only time will tell if he’ll ever walk again.”

  “As long as he survives, the rest isn’t important.” Nettie pressed her lips together. It wouldn’t be to her at least, but the blow of losing his athletic mobility would devastate Eli.

  “One factor that may work in his favor is that the heat of the metal partially cauterized the wound. If we’re lucky, that kept the bleeding do
wn and will help prevent infection. Right now, I’m keeping him sedated so he stays still. Most of his other wounds are superficial—first degree burns and minor cuts. I’ll leave you alone now. Call one of the nurses if anything changes—his temperature goes up or his breathing becomes labored. Also if he wakes, all right?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  Nettie didn’t look away from Eli as the doctor left. Neither did she look up when Diana entered the room, followed by the VanCleves, one at a time. Later, Mrs. Lawson came in, silent and for once, looking her age. Finally, the VanCleves shuffled Diana off to the neighbor’s guest bed.

  Mrs. Lawson sat beside Nettie and slipped one arm around her shoulders. “He’ll be all right my girl. My son has everything to live for and he knows it. Mark my words, he’ll be up and dancing at your wedding.”

  “I hope so. Why does it feel like everyone close to me gets hurt?” Nettie leaned her head on Mrs. Lawson’s shoulder.

  After four hours they’d both dozed in that same position, waking as a nurse came in to check vitals or change bags of the blood and intravenous fluids they were pumping into him.

  When Eli groaned, Nettie jerked awake and said his name.

  “Nettie?”

  “It’s me, dearest, I’m here.”

  “My leg?”

  “Still attached.”

  He managed a weak smile and muttered something she couldn’t understand that might have been, I love you.

  * * *

  Eli knew he was a horrible patient. He pushed himself, he pushed the staff, and he even pushed poor Nettie, who deserved it least of all. Finally, after a week in the hospital, they were sending him home. His leg was still bandaged from his hip to his knee, and he was only allowed to move about in a wheeled chair, so he wouldn’t be able to leave the second floor of the house. One more week, the quacks promised, and if there was still no sign of infection, they might, might remove some of the stitches and allow him to switch to crutches.

  “Your mother has sent over a manservant for you,” Nettie said as she wheeled him up to the doorstep. From there, VanCleve and his father’s personal valet, Warren, carried him up the stairs and plunked him in his bed. Eli gestured for both of them to leave and they did.

  Nettie sat in the chair beside his bed. “Diana has moved back to your mother’s as you’ll have heard. The VanCleves are going to stay in the house as chaperones. Mr. Warren will help you with dressing and so on. I offered, of course, as did Mr. VanCleve, but your mother wouldn’t hear of it.” To hear Nettie’s version of things, Eli’s mother had sat with her all night until the doctors had pronounced him out of the woods—barring infection of course. The new rapport between his mother and his bride-to-be made him more than a little nervous.

  “And, as per usual, I have no choice in the matter.” He knew he shouldn’t take it out on Nettie, so he tried for a softer tone. “How is your arm?”

  She rubbed the bare skin, still slightly pale, where her cast had been removed the day before. “Infinitely better than it was before. I mended, as you will.”

  “Although to what degree is yet to be seen,” he grumbled. “Tomorrow, I want you to send Gordon up as soon as he gets back from the bookstore. We can set up a temporary office in the small parlor. My brain still works, though it’s growing weak from lack of exercise.”

  “Only a few hours per day at first, remember.” She fluffed the covers over him and leaned down for a kiss. “Next week, I thought I’d go back to the bookshop, so you can have Gordon full time. The week after that the Websters will be home, and we can work out what they want to do about replacing me.”

  “But I thought you’d be here.” He knew he was whining. He hated to admit it, but the trip had taxed him more than he’d expected.

  “I’ll stay as much as you need me,” she promised, kissing his forehead. “Later, when you need Gordon more, we’ll switch.”

  They’d reversed roles—she was nursing him, reassuring him, and taking care of everything. He understood now, why she’d balked from time to time, but blast it, it was a man’s job to take care of his woman—not the other way around. What if the firebug came back? He wouldn’t be able to save her. Hell, she could probably save him. There seemed to be no end to what Nettie Price could accomplish.

  Whether or not he kept his leg, his firefighting days were gone. At best, he’d walk again, probably with a cane. He might still be able to drive the ladder truck—but that was a long shot. At worst, he might lose the leg, or even, due to swelling on his spine, be paralyzed from waist down. He’d never felt like less of a man in his life.

  * * *

  Over the next few weeks, Nettie couldn’t tell if Eli was trying to cling harder to her or push her away. He seemed to alternate equally between the two. He grumbled if she worked more than a few hours a day at the bookstore, so she didn’t. There were no repeats of their almost-tryst, no matter how hard she tried to coax. On the other hand, he welcomed the Websters when she invited them for dinner. Worse, try as she might, she couldn’t get him to talk about the wedding, even today, when she’d driven him to the doctor’s office to get the rest of his stitches out.

  On the way back, he plucked the car keys out of her hands. “I’m cleared to drive. I don’t even need a damn cane for that.”

  “That’s wonderful.” She obediently moved around to the passenger side.

  “I’m back on the squad as of tomorrow. I may have to stay with the truck, but at least I won’t be completely useless.”

  “I see.” Nettie understood that his volunteer work was his real passion. Law was only his second, the career he chose to allow him the freedom to follow his heart. She’d thought she was perhaps third on his list of priorities, but the way he was today, she wasn’t sure. “As long as the doctor agrees, that’s good news. I know you found it hard to stay put whenever there was an alarm. Do you think you might mention my idea of a wives’ group? I’d still like to pursue that.” She’d been hand-sewing quilts since her cast had come off, but he’d never asked about her projects. “Charity work is an acceptable activity, according to your mother. She’s adamant about me giving up my job at the bookstore before the wedding.” She’d also been pressing them both to set a date, although Eli had shrugged off her questions.

  He grunted but didn’t answer. They reached the house and Eli went into his office while Nettie returned upstairs. She’d saved up almost all her pay since she’d been living here and had her eye on a used sewing machine in the store window a few blocks away. Instead of going in, she walked the block over to Main Street and began to window shop her way toward the store that sold sewing machines and vacuum cleaners.

  A dress in the window of the bridal shop caught her eye. For the first time, she screwed up her courage and walked in, glad she was wearing a newer frock instead of an old hand-made outfit. The dress in the window was perfect for an afternoon wedding. Calf-length and white with a bit of lace at neck and hem, not too simple but not at all elaborate. It had three-quarter sleeves, which would be nice now that fall had settled in. It was expensive, but less than the sewing machine. Nettie had never fallen in love with a dress before but this one was perfect. She even loved the simple veil they’d paired it with.

  All she’d need to add were white stockings, shoes and gloves. She could buy those with her next paycheck or two. Then, perhaps, she’d give in to her future mother-in-law’s pleas to stop working.

  Nettie knew Jane Tooley, the clerk at the bridal shop, of course. Main Street wasn’t that large, but Jan was perhaps a decade older and they’d never been close. When Nettie asked to try on the gown, Jane lifted an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were engaged. To who?”

  Nettie flushed. Had the gossip not made it all around town? “Eli Lawson.”

  “Nice catch!” Jane admired Nettie’s ring and then along with the shop owner, helped Nettie into the magnificent dress.

  “Oh, my goodness, it fits like it was made for you,” Jane cried.
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  The shop owner agreed. “Perfection.”

  Nettie circled slowly, watching herself in the triple mirror. “It does. For the first time in my life, I feel…beautiful. I have to have it.”

  She changed back into her simple blue dress and paid for the gown. Jane and her boss agreed to store it at the shop, since she didn’t want Eli to see it.

  “Pink roses,” Jane said. “The very palest pink—and some in your hair as well. What are your bridesmaids wearing?”

  Bridesmaids? Nettie hadn’t thought of that. Diana would probably stand up for her. Mr. Webster would give her away. “I have no idea.”

  Jane waved a hand. “There’s plenty of time, I’m sure, if you’re just now starting to look for a dress. There’s a simple style that coordinates with your gown. We can order it in any color you like.”

  “Perfect.” Delighted, Nettie ran almost all the way back to Eli’s house to tell him the good news.

  She popped in the office door and asked his secretary if he was with a client. She’d become friends with Eli’s staff in the last few weeks, so Edna Goodstone waved her in. “None today. He’s going over some paperwork.”

  “Thanks.” She knocked on Eli’s door.

  “In.” He sounded in a dark mood and she wondered if his leg was hurting.

  “Eli, the most wonderful thing. I was on my way to buy a sewing machine—”

  “What? Why do that?” He waved her into the chair opposite his desk.

  “Because my other one burned, remember?” Something was very odd in his mood. He seemed almost angry. “Anyway, I didn’t. I saw this dress, at the bridal store, so I went in—and I did it, Eli. I bought my wedding dress.”

  He scowled. “We haven’t even set a date.”

  She shrugged. “Well as long as it’s before next July, the gown will be fine. Why did he seem to get cold feet now whenever she mentioned the wedding?

  “It’s no good, Nettie.” He set down the sheaf of papers he’d been holding. “I’ve been trying to convince myself these last few weeks that I could still make a good husband, but I can’t. I’m a damn cripple. You’re so young and beautiful—I can’t tie you to me. I’m sorry, dear, but the engagement is off.”