“What’s going on?” Mindy’s eyes were wide. “What happened to Chris?”
“There was an accident. At the fire.” Jane felt unusually still, frozen, unable to move, barely able to think. “Mac didn’t know how bad it was. I guess Eric’s been looking for me. Christian asked for me.”
“You’re going to the hospital, then, right?”
Jane stared at her hands, her gaze zeroing in on her scarred fingers. Could she do this? She had to. She had to be there for Christian. For everyone. She was always there for everyone; it was her job. “Of course I am.”
“Jane.” Mindy nudged her shoulder. “Are you all right? You want to go inside and see the kids before you go?”
“No.” She couldn’t see them, not right now. Couldn’t deal with their endless chatter and their questions and how could she explain to them that her world was slowly falling apart all over again?
She couldn’t.
“I’ll tell them you had to go with Uncle Mac and that you’ll be back later.” Mindy squeezed her shoulder, trying to offer comfort. “Are you going to be all right?”
“Of course.” Jane still couldn’t move, couldn’t even get out of the car.
“You keep saying of course,” Mindy pointed out, her voice gentle, and Jane finally looked at her, really looked at her.
Mindy watched her, sympathy clouding her eyes, a frown on her face. She tried to smile, but Jane saw it wasn’t sincere. Which meant Mindy was worried. Well, great. Jane was worried, too.
A screech of tires sounded in the distance and Jane caught sight of Mac’s car zooming toward them. Somehow, she found the strength to pick up her purse and get out of Mindy’s car. She stood in the driveway, watching as Mac jerked to a stop on the side of the road and waved at her to hurry up.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Mindy called from behind her and Jane wanted to agree. Tried to believe everything was going to be just fine. But it was hard, so hard, when the memories continued to slam into her brain, one after the other like some sort of bizarre super-fast slideshow. She’d thought of their children losing their parents. Of her not even hitting thirty yet and already dying. She hadn’t really lived, hadn’t done nearly everything she’d wanted to.
A sob welled up in her chest and she choked it down, refusing to cry, needing to be strong. She needed to keep a clear head. For herself and for Chris.
She could do this.
Mac peeled off like a maniac, and Jane told him to slow down. Last thing they needed was to get in an accident themselves before they even arrived.
As they got closer to the small local hospital, she felt a sense of calm wash over her, keeping her hands steady and her mind clear. The memories had faded—she’d pushed them out—and she focused ahead. Focused on Christian.
Mac pulled into the hospital parking lot and her heart skipped a beat, then another. He found a space at the end of the lot and they started the long walk to the main entrance, her footsteps faltering as they got closer.
“Are you okay?” Mac had respected her quietness. Hadn’t said a word to her during the entire drive, but he’d seen her stumble, and she tried to put on a brave face.
“I’m fine. Let’s go.”
His expression said he didn’t quite believe her, but he stayed quiet, took her by the arm, and escorted her toward the sliding glass doors that led into the main lobby of the small hospital. After some questioning, they found out Chris’s room number and went to the second floor.
The familiar antiseptic hospital scent made her stomach turn. Jane pressed her lips together, tried to hold her breath, but it was no use. Her stomach roiled, her vision hazy.
Oh, God, she thought she might faint. Blindly, she reached out, grabbed at Mac who grabbed her back, supporting her with his arm around her waist.
“Are you okay?” He sounded panicked, and she remembered her brother had never been good with upset women. Jane shook her head and leaned into him, grasping at the front of his shirt.
“I think—I think I’m going to faint.” Her words came out slurred and the rapid pounding of her heart beat an accelerated rhythm in her ears, making her head ring.
“Oh, crap. Are you serious?”
She leaned against him even more, rested her forehead on his shoulder, and breathed deeply once, twice, three times. Her head leveled out, as did her stomach, and when she opened her eyes, she could see the cream and gray speckled linoleum floor below. Cool and shiny with not a scuff in sight.
“Do you want me to get a nurse?”
“No, I feel better. I’m okay.” Slowly she lifted her head, thankful it had quit spinning. She stared at her poor, flustered brother, expelling a soft breath. “I think I had a minor panic attack.”
“It’s the hospital.” His green eyes, so similar to hers, went soft with sympathy and Jane stood straighter, told herself to knock it off.
“Probably. Let’s find Christian.”
With every step that brought them closer to Chris’s room, Jane told herself everything would be all right. She could get through this. She was tough. Accidents were rare in Chris’s profession; he’d just used up that one off-chance. He’d be fine now.
But niggling doubt stayed with her. It was a nagging little voice that whispered in her ear over and over. She’d worried before about Chris’s job as a firefighter, found it ironic she was interested in a man who fought fires for a living when she herself was deathly afraid of fire. She’d been burned, damaged by fire, scarred for life.
Fire was scary. Dangerous. Deadly. And Chris dealt with it every time he went to work. Could she handle this, being a firefighter’s girlfriend? Being a firefighter’s wife? Maybe she was jumping ahead of the game, but she had to look to her future.
And if her future consisted of this—visiting hospitals and constantly fearing for her man’s safety—well, she didn’t think she could take it. She’d already suffered once, and suffered mightily. She didn’t think she deserved to go through something like that again, no matter how much she cared about this man.
They entered his room, found him lying in bed, his eyes closed. He was hooked up to an IV, his head was wrapped tightly with a snowy white bandage, and a smudge of soot was slashed across his cheek.
He looked wonderful, terrible, and so beautifully alive.
Jane stared at him, the shock of mussed dark hair standing straight up above the bandage and the gash at his eyebrow. His left wrist was wrapped.
She and Mac both turned when they heard someone enter the room. It was Eric. “Glad you guys got here.”
“How is he?” Mac asked before Jane could. Her throat was too thick with emotion to speak anyway.
“He’s good, better than they thought. They’ve got the IV in him just in case of dehydration. He showed signs. He broke his wrist in the fall, cracked a rib or two, and he’s got a couple of gashes on his head, one of them they had to staple. He’s sedated right now. Pain meds knocked him out.”
“How long does he have to stay?” Jane croaked, then cleared her throat, feeling foolish. But she couldn’t stop the rush of emotions that flooded her at being here, at the thought of almost losing Chris.
“They’re keeping him overnight for observation because of the hit to the head, but they’ll release him tomorrow morning.” Eric nodded toward Jane. “He really wanted to see you. Maybe you should try talking to him.”
Jane’s mouth went dry. What would she say? Thank God you’re alive. I don’t think I can go through this again. I love you but I can’t stand the thought of losing you like this, so I’d rather walk away now.
How could she say any of that? How could she mean any of it?
But the thoughts wouldn’t stop tumbling through her mind, no matter how much she wished them away.
“We’ll leave you two alone,” Mac mumbled, squeezing her hand before he walked out with Eric.
Jane took a couple of steps closer to the bed and reached out to brush at his hair. She whispered his name, her voice cracking, and sh
e said it louder, firmer, wanting to wake him up. Then again, she didn’t want to wake him up. Then she’d have to face him. Face her fears.
His eyes slowly cracked open, bloodshot and oh, so weary. Unfocused for a moment, he squinted, his mouth curving into the smallest of smiles when he caught sight of her.
“Jane.” His voice was raw, scratchy, and he coughed. “You’re here.”
“Of course I am.”
“I, uh, I lied.” He coughed again, harder this time, and she waited, smoothed her hand over his shoulder until he finished.
“You lied about what?”
“I told you I was always careful. I guess I wasn’t this time. Got taken out by a beam.” He was trying to make light of it, but she saw the seriousness in his expression, the grim line of his mouth.
What happened had scared him, too.
“You didn’t know, Christian.” She let her hand drop away from his shoulder, wondered if it would be the last time she touched him.
God. She couldn’t believe she just thought that. But the protective shield was coming up, like a dome of glass slowly sliding over her, cocooning her from anything and everything that would hurt.
“I screwed up. I wasn’t paying attention; I was tired, distracted.”
Tired and distracted by her, she bet. They’d stayed up most of last night making love. He’d been exhausted. Yet another reason she needed to stay away from him. She contributed to putting his life at risk.
“Christian.” She sighed, the sound of it sad even to her own ears. “This is crazy.”
“I’m fine, though. Or I will be. I’ll be off duty for a little while, since I’ll need to recover. But hey, this guarantees I’ll be off for Christmas, right?” He chuckled and then groaned, his good hand reaching across his stomach. “Forgot about the ribs.”
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
“You can’t do what?” His eyes opened wider, confusion dawning over his handsome features.
“The hospital. And seeing you like this.” She waved a hand toward the bed. “All of it. I can’t do it.”
“Baby, why don’t you go home, come visit me tomorrow at my place. I’ll be out of here by then.” He smiled, the sight of it cracking her heart in two. “I know you don’t like hospitals. I can’t blame you for that.”
“I don’t like the fact that you put your life in danger every day,” she admitted, feeling like a soulless, heartless woman for even thinking what she was about to say. “I don’t know if this is something I can deal with. I’ve already lost once.”
She didn’t want to lose again, especially Christian. She loved him so much. She’d much rather walk away than watch him die.
“Jane.” His voice grew firm. “Do you know how rare this accident is? I swear it. I know guys who’ve worked for CAL Fire for more than thirty years who haven’t even suffered a scratch on the job.”
“But what if it happens again?” Her voice had turned shrill, panicked, and she shook her head.
“You can’t live your life based on what ifs.” His gaze pinned her where she stood, hardening with every quiet second that passed. “So you’re saying you’d rather walk away.”
“I’m a burn victim in love with a firefighter. Do you not see the irony here, Christian?” She laughed but it sounded fake, a little crazed. “It would probably never work in the long run.”
“You’re not willing to give it a try, even though you love me.”
“I’m not ready for this.” She paused and spoke the truth. “I’m too scared.”
“I’m scared, too,” he whispered, and she could tell the admission surprised him. But he continued on. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I don’t know what happens next, but I’m willing to give it a try. Aren’t you?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head again. She felt as if she couldn’t stop shaking her head. “I don’t know.”
“What we have is real.” His low, husky voice reached for her heart, twisted it with his words, and left it a quivering, broken mess.
He was right. It was real. But it was also risky. And she wasn’t sure she could take any more risks—she’d used up all of them already.
She had children she needed to be strong for. Bringing another man into their life was good, but not a man who could disappear just like their daddy had. More than anything, she didn’t want her children to suffer like that again, ever.
Jane had to do this. She had to end it.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered again as she stepped away from the bed. “I love you, Christian, but I just…can’t.”
And without another word, without letting him say anything to convince her otherwise, she walked out of the room.
She didn’t look back.
Chapter Seventeen
’Tis the season to be jolly
fa la la la la
la la la la
It was so not the season to be jolly. At least, not for Jane. The Christmas carols on constant rotation set her teeth on edge. Her children’s palpable excitement made her head ache and she wanted to drown her frustrations in the homemade fudge her sister had given her.
Not quite the Christmas Eve she’d envisioned.
“Mom, is Captain Nelson coming tonight?” Logan asked, zinging her right in the heart.
“I don’t think so, honey,” Jane admitted, glancing up in time to see the disappointment flare in her son’s eyes.
“Why not?” Lexi asked, a little smirk curling her lips. “Did we scare him away?”
“Was that your plan?” Jane glared at her daughter, anger rising within her. She rarely yelled, had hardly confronted Lexi since she started seeing Chris.
But this was the final straw.
Lexi visibly recoiled. “No. I wouldn’t do that, Mama.”
“You act like you would. Why do you hate him so much?”
“I don’t hate him.” Lexi’s bottom lip trembled. “I don’t hate him at all. I just don’t…don’t want you to spend all your time with him and forget about us.”
“Oh, Lex.” Jane went to her now crying daughter and drew her into her arms, hugging her close. They stayed that way for a while, until Lexi finally composed herself and offered a meek apology. Jane apologized as well and Lexi returned her attention to the television.
Jane rubbed the back of her neck. The holidays were making her tense. The way she’d dealt with Chris didn’t help and for once in her life, she would be ecstatic when Christmas was over.
The end of the year couldn’t come fast enough.
When Logan started chasing Sophia around the Christmas tree and nearly knocked it over, Jane couldn’t take it any longer. She walked out of the room, away from the television blaring yet another cartoon holiday special, away from her children who were now fighting over who would have the biggest wrapped present at Grandma’s house. She went into her bedroom, into the connecting bathroom, and shut and locked the door.
Her children could deal without her for a few minutes. She desperately needed the peace and quiet. Times like this made her steal moments in the bathroom, one of the only spots in the house that had a locking door.
If that door wasn’t locked, her children would be barging through it in less than…
“Mom!” Lexi pounded on the door, her little voice full of frustration. “Let me in! Logan is trying to open the presents!”
“Tell Logan to keep his paws off those gifts or he won’t have anything to open tomorrow.” Jane sighed, hated hearing the anger in her tone. They said the holidays brought out the worst in people, and she was afraid she was turning into one of those people.
It was her fault. She should’ve never done what she did to Christian. Should’ve never said the horrible, wretched things she had to the man she loved. The man she still loved.
At his time of need, she’d walked out on him like some sort of coward. She’d tried to make herself feel better—heck, even Mindy had tried to make her feel better by pointing out how scared she was of hospi
tals. And fire. Oh yes, and tragedy. Anyone in her shoes would’ve reacted the same way, Mindy told her.
Jane didn’t think so. And the condemnation she saw in Mac’s eyes when she came upon him in the hallway after leaving Chris’s hospital room only confirmed it.
She’d hurt Chris, probably beyond measure. And there was nothing she could do about it now. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say, the excuses she would make for her behavior. Would she want to listen to herself after doing what she’d done? Any apology would only sound weak, without meaning.
It was best she stay home and sulk. This was supposed to be the Christmas where she made it magical, but instead, she’d ruined it. Ruined it for her and therefore ruined it for her children.
She’d ruined it for Chris, too.
She was selfish. Never before had she thought of herself that way, but it was true.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she swiped at them with the tips of her fingers. Crying was useless. Feeling sorry for herself even more so. She needed to pick up the pieces and make this right for her children. Focus on their joy and work on hers later.
She’d originally planned to spend tonight at home. With Christian. But after her outburst at the hospital, she knew that wasn’t going to happen and she didn’t want to be alone. Considering Mindy felt the same way and didn’t have her boys until tomorrow morning as per the temporary agreement with Marty, they’d decided to get together later. Patrick, Lyssa, and their children would also join them. But Mac had politely declined her invitation. Jane had a feeling he was mad at her for what she’d done to his friend.
Well, fabulous. He could join the club.
Their parents were busy putting everything together for tomorrow. Her mother was baking and cooking and creating so much chaos in the kitchen, Jane was glad she wasn’t there. Her poor father had been stuck with cleanup duty. Then, family from all over would congregate at the McKenzie household tomorrow afternoon to celebrate the season.
Jane almost didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to face everyone, many of them relatives she hadn’t seen since before the accident. Mac would be distant toward her and probably tell their siblings what she’d done. How she’d turned on a good man because of her fears.
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