Home Again: Starting Over

by Becki Willis

  “I—I don’t think I can make it,” Genny said, her breathing shallow and her face pale. Smoke whirled thick in the air. Fire glowed on the other side of the bathroom door, making the wooden door appear almost translucent. “Go. Save yourself.”

  “Not without you!” Madison bellowed. She hung halfway into the bathroom, jerking violently on her friend’s arm. “Stand on the side of the tub. Come on, Genny, work with me!”

  Coughing, Genny tried to make her legs obey her mind’s commands, but her feet tangled in the heavy towels.

  “Come on, Genny, we have to go! Now!”

  Madison gave a powerful pull, just as flames crawled through the door. A bright flash from the area of the bathroom table illuminated the haze as Genny flew through the window.

  Both women landed in an undignified heap in the fresh night air. Their arms and legs were tangled and askew, but they were out of the house. Sirens and lights blended with the sounds of people shouting and a house crashing behind them.

  Huddled together, watching the house literally disappear into a horrific plume of flame, their skin hot and scorched by their proximity to the blaze, neither had the energy to crawl away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Maddy! Maddy, Genny!”

  Genny heard their names being called, but it was too much of an effort to answer. If she could just rest her eyes for a moment longer… Her eyes were so dry and blistered, just like her throat. She should have drunk more water earlier when she had the chance…

  “Maddy! Where are you?” The voices grew stronger, closer.

  “Brash,” Maddy mumbled, pushing the name from her parched throat. “I hear Brash.” She shook her best friend, whose head had fallen forward onto her chest. “Genny? Genny, wake up!”

  When her companion did not respond, Madison became frantic. “Genny, wake up.” She shook her again. Trying to gather enough saliva to swallow, Madison tried calling out. “Brash!” Her voice was but a croak. She tried again. “Brash, back here! Cutter! Someone help us!”

  Brash and Officer Schimanski came at a run.

  “Maddy, are you all right? Talk to me! Where’s Genny?”

  “She’s here. She’s not responding, Brash! Hurry. Help her.”

  Brash took only enough time to squeeze Maddy in a tight hug and brush his face against her smoky, tangled hair. He released her as quickly as he swept her against him, turning his immediate attention to the blond woman still crumpled upon the ground.

  “Get the paramedics back here!” he barked to his officer. He carefully stretched Genny out on the grass, making sure her airways were unobstructed and nothing was broken or burned.

  “How long has she been unconscious?” he asked over his shoulder, his hands still moving over her prone body.

  “N—not long… watched the… fall… awake then.” The words scraped past her scorched throat, only some of them strong enough to make their way through the arid dessert that had swallowed her whole and left her parched and withered.

  “Shh, sweetheart. Don’t try to talk anymore. I’m sorry I asked.”

  “’Kay,” she managed.

  His eyes flickered over her, hungry and worried, even as he attended her friend. “Are you all right? Just nod your head if you are.”

  She bobbed her head up and down, and then signaled for him to turn his full attention back to Genny.

  The paramedics came with a gurney and whisked her friend away. A second set came right behind her and insisted that Madison go with them.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right here with you.” Before she could struggle with the words and ask, he read her mind and assured her, “I’ll have Granny Bert and the twins meet us at the hospital. You and Genny will both be fine, sweetheart. Now be a good girl and go with the medics. I’ll be there when the doors open.”

  As promised, his was the first face she saw when the ambulance doors opened and they pulled her from the box. Floating in and out of awareness, she had only a glimpse of him before the attendants wheeled her away amid a flurry of white coats, tubes, and wires, but it was enough to ease her heart.

  A smile ghosted her lips as she floated into oblivion. Brash deCordova was a man of his word. He said he would be there, and he was.

  And he said Genny would be all right. Drifting out of consciousness again, she had to trust that he was right about that, as well.

  ***

  A small crowd huddled in the waiting area, eager for word on their loved ones. Granny Bert looked old and ragged as she sat between Sybille and Derron on the crowded bench. Bethani and Megan huddled together in a single chair, while Blake stood beside them protectively, as if his towering height could somehow shield them from bad news. Brash alternated between pacing the corridor and staring through the tiny window on the swinging doors, hoping for a glimpse into the ER beyond. Cutter consistently paced the small confines of the room, still wearing the lower half of his bunker gear, raking both hands through his ravaged hair. Shannon and Momma Matt passed out hot coffee and cold drinks to anyone who would take it. Various friends, co-workers, and clergymen drifted in and out of the waiting room throughout the long hours of the night.

  As daylight peeked through the vinyl blinds and streaked the floor with weak rays of hope, Brash made a decision. While most of the others had either gone home or found a way to catch a few winks in various odd and cramped positions, Bethani and Blake were still too frightened to sleep. Worried they might miss the doctor should he come back out, they slumped together on a loveseat. Even Megan had stretched out on the floor and fallen asleep a few hours ago.

  Squaring his shoulders, Brash pushed away from the wall he supported and ambled his way toward the pale-faced twins. His knees popped as he walked, protesting a night with no rest.

  “How y’all doing?” he asked quietly, taking the empty chair beside them.

  Bethani sniffled and shrugged. Blake rubbed his weary eyes. “Okay, I guess,” he mumbled. “I just wish they would come back out and give us another update. It’s been three hours since we heard anything.”

  “Both their vitals were improving the last two times they updated us. I’m sure things are still going good, or else they’d be out to say.” Brash offered the weak rally speech. “No news is good news.”

  “That’s a stupid saying,” Bethani grumbled. “No news is just that. No news.”

  “She’s going to be okay, Beth.” This time, Brash’s voice was deep and reassuring, and full of a confidence that he did not fully feel. But he couldn’t tell Maddy’s kids that.

  There was something he could tell them, though. And it was time that he did.

  “Bethani, Blake, I want to talk to you two about something.” He kept his voice low and intimate. This was not a conversation for other ears to hear.

  Bethani bristled. Crossing her arms across her chest, she stonewalled him. “Don’t,” she said coldly. “Don’t give us the ‘if anything happens to your mom’ speech. I won’t let you.” Her words were brave, but her chin trembled with emotion.

  His smile was indulgent. The girl had spunk, he would give her that. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice warming along with his smile. “This is the ‘when your mom wakes up’ speech.”

  Bethani did not say anything, but he knew she listened. Blake’s expression was more inviting, so Brash continued.

  “You two and Granny will go in first, of course. But when you’re ready to share her for just a minute, I’d like to see her. I promise not to stay long.”

  Blake looked over at his sister, who struggled to keep up her aloof facade. “Yeah, I guess that would be all right.”

  Brash cleared his throat and spoke clearly, so that there was no doubt to his intentions. “You need to know that when I see her, I’m going to tell her that I love her. Because I do.”

  Bethani’s head shot up and her startled blue eyes met his. Again Brash smiled. He looked both twins straight in the eye as he told them, “I’ve loved your mom for quite some time now. A
nd I have reason to believe that she loves me, too. But out of respect for the two of you, and the fact that you’re still grieving your father’s death, neither of us have acknowledged our feelings.”

  He blew out a deep breath, realizing how nervous he had been to bare his soul to Maddy’s children. His weak chuckle was humorless, revealing his vulnerability. “The fact is, I’m saying the words to you before I’ve even said them to her. But tonight reminded me of how precious life is, and how none of us have a guarantee for tomorrow. I could never forgive myself if I let another day go by without telling your mom how I feel about her. So I just wanted you to know what I plan to do.” He faltered over the next words. “I would be honored to have your blessings, but I know I can’t really expect them, not yet. Unless you want to give them. Then I’d be honored.”

  Brash knew he was babbling. To his amazement, Blake grinned and stuck out his hand. “Relax, son,” the teen said, using his most mature voice. Pumping Brash’s hand with gusto, he turned the tables on the lawman as he played at being the elder. “Her grandmother and I approve.”

  With a sidelong glance down at his sister, Blake spoke out of the side of his mouth and added, “I can’t speak for her, but I think she’ll come around.”

  Laughing at the boy’s antics, Brash slapped him on the shoulder before giving in to the urge to hug him. “Thanks, Blake. That means the world to me.”

  “You’re pretty cool, even being an old lawman, and all.”

  When the girl between them still made no comment, Brash dared to look at her. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

  “I know this is hard for you, Beth,” he said softly. “And I don’t mean to hurt you. But I love her.”

  Bethani sniffed. “I—I guess she has a right to know,” she whispered, her tone still somewhat sullen.

  It was more than he had hoped for. He settled a large hand onto her shoulder and squeezed. “Thanks, sweetie.”

  “Mr. de?” Her voice was small, her eyes large. “Do you—Do you think you could hug me, like you did earlier tonight?”

  Brash gathered the girl into his arms and cradled her as she cried. He realized then that it had been much too long since she had felt a father’s arms around her. Putting a hand onto Blake’s shoulder to include him in the embrace, Brash settled back in the seat and gave what comfort he could to Maddy’s children. Soon Bethani was asleep against his chest and Blake’s head lolled back against his arm. With a tender smile and a humble heart, Brash gave in to his own exhaustion and closed his eyes.

  They all enjoyed a solid thirty minutes of sleep before the doctor came into the waiting room, wearing a smile.

  “I am pleased to say that both ladies are going to be fine.” He smiled at the twins. “Your mom will be released in a few hours. She needs to get plenty of rest and fluids, but other than having a bad case of a sore throat, she should be fine in a day or so.”

  “And Genny?” Cutter asked. “How is she?”

  “She’ll be fine, too, but it may take a few days longer. She inhaled more smoke than her friend. Her lungs are a bit hazy and her body bruised, but with plenty of fluids and bed rest, I see no reason why she won’t be good as new within a week or so.”

  “When can she go home?”

  “I’d like to keep her for a couple of days, just to be on the safe side.”

  “But you say they’ll both be fine?” Granny Bert wanted to hear the words again, just to be certain.

  “Absolutely. They are both strong, determined women with a will to thrive.”

  “When can we see them?” Brash asked.

  “You can only stay for a few minutes, but you can go back now, one at a time.” The doctor saw the frustration on Bethani and Blake’s faces. “Okay, in your case, both of you can go,” he relented. He spoke to their backs when he called, “But don’t stay long.”

  Cutter claimed first visitation with Genny. The nurse frowned at his filthy attire, but she led the way back to the cubicle.

  “She’s heavily sedated,” she warned. “She may not even know you’re here. Don’t stay longer than five minutes.”

  Cutter stepped into the stall, hating how small and pale she looked against the white sheets. Her hair was streaked with soot and filth, much as his own. A red mark stretched across her forehead, peeking from beneath the white bandage that circled her head. A bruise darkened her pale cheek and there was a scrape under her chin. Cutter immediately missed the warmth of her twinkling blue eyes and her easy smile.

  He slipped his hand over hers, not wanting to disturb her. He just needed to see for himself that she was all right.

  He had let her down tonight. He had been on another call across town. A small, unexplained fire that broke out alongside the highway. They had the blaze out in a matter of minutes, but it cost him precious time when the call came in for a structure fire. Details were sketchy, but occupants might still be inside.

  When he reached the house, he knew it should be empty. He had attended the homeowner’s death just over a month ago. And then he had seen her car, and he knew Genny was inside. Fear like he had never known before raced through his body, leaving him momentarily useless. The wail of the ambulance’s siren snapped him out of his trance and into action.

  Unbeknownst to him, Genny was already out of the house and on her way to the hospital before he ever reached the scene. And for that fact, Cutter could never forgive himself. He had failed her.

  Lost in self-loathing, he did not register the slight pressure of her fingers the first time she squeezed his hand. Genny stirred slightly, her red, pain-filled eyes fluttering open before shutting again. Her fingers tightened on his, ever so slightly.

  “Cutter.” Her hoarse words were rusty and weak. Smoky.

  “How are you, Genny darlin’?” he asked, his own voice shaky.

  She attempted a smile, but only one side of her parched lips lifted. “I knew you’d come,” she breathed.

  With a satisfied sigh, she drifted back out.

  Brash waited his turn. Only after the twins and Granny Bert went in did he take his turn at Madison’s side.

  She was asleep when he walked in, still groggy from the medication and trauma of the night. Other than the grunge of smoke and soot that clung to her like a second skin, she looked largely unscathed. One long cut on her forearm, the two stitches that held it together, and an IV drip were the only indications of recent troubles.

  His heart contracted painfully as he watched her sleep. Tonight could have turned out so differently. The very thought stole his breath and gnawed a hole through his gut.

  Brash stepped forward silently and pressed a kiss onto her forehead. Her eyes slowly opened and a lazy smile spread across her face.

  “Hey,” Madison croaked hoarsely.

  “Shh. Don’t talk, sweetheart. I don’t want you overdoing it.”

  She nodded in agreement as she reached for his hand. Brash rubbed her fingers and watched as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.” His words were low and soothing. “I just had to see for myself that you were okay.”

  She managed another groggy nod.

  “And I had to tell you something.” His voice was still steady and low, the same reassuring murmur that had encouraged her to sleep. She might not even be awake. She might not hear him. But he had to say the words. “I love you, sweetheart.”

  A smile curled her lips, even though her eyelids were too heavy to lift. “Love you, too,” she rasped in a whisper, just before sleep claimed her once again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  There was never any question as to where Genny would convalesce. Granny Bert had her room ready before the doctor released her.

  With Maddy in her own room and Genny stationed in Blake’s, they found the easiest way to communicate was through text messages. Madison was granted full release within two days, but Genny was ordered to stay in bed for a full five.

  “Obviously, you cannot count,” Madison said whe
n she saw her friend standing in the doorway of the kitchen just three days later.

  “Three. Five. Close enough,” Genny croaked.

  Granny Bert clicked her tongue. “Your voice is still all scratchy and haggly. You should be in bed.”

  “My voice has nothing to do with my legs.”

  “Come, on, Gen,” Madison said, “let us pamper you for another couple of days. You deserve it.”

  Her dimples had come through the ordeal unscathed. She flashed them now. “True.”

  Granny Bert pulled out a chair. “At least sit down. I will grant you chair privileges if you promise to go back to bed in one hour.”

  Genny wiggled two fingers in the air.

  “Okay, two. But you have to stay in that chair.”

  Genny crinkled her nose but took what she could get. She joined her friend at the table, where an array of papers was scattered. She recognized the chart she and Madison drew up at her office.

  “Still no circles?”

  “More like arcs, with huge gaping holes.” Madison’s voice was filled with frustration. “We must be getting close. Why else would someone have tried to kill us? Brash confirmed that the doors and windows were screwed shut. Cutter confirmed the fire was started with gasoline. Someone knew we were inside and deliberately set that fire. Obviously, they are afraid we would uncover whatever it was Miss Gloria found.”

  Genny studied the paper. “Try adding another field,” she suggested. “Who could have benefited from the fires?”

  “Well, let’s see.” Madison picked up her pen. “On the Montelongo fire, Bernie Havlicek was the biggest winner. Carson Elliot came out on the winning end of his fire, even though he lost his lot in the process. We don’t know much about Ray Sams, other than his insurance paid to keep him quiet, so I suppose he benefited the most. And even though the Shanks and Mr. Peavey eventually won their claims, neither was reimbursed the full amount of their loss.”