“O’Brien may have some internal injuries.” Samuel gave her a once-over. “Did you just come from the hospital?”
Still dressed in her scrubs, Kathleen nodded. “Will he make it?”
“He should, barring any complications.” The paramedic jumped up into the ambulance.
Kathleen backed away from the vehicle and watched it leave the scene. She squeezed her eyes closed, still seeing the flashing lights in her mind. She couldn’t shake the tragedy of the situation—one she’d had a part in. Just like another one, not long ago.
She tried to clear her mind of the memory. When would this go away?
Someone tugged on her arm. She looked down at Jared, her seven-year-old son, with worry in his expression. “Sally said he went in searching for us. Is that true?”
“Yes. When I didn’t see you outside with the other tenants, I thought you all were still inside.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Kip asked as he approached her. Sally followed right behind her son.
“The paramedic thinks so.” She hoped Samuel was right.
“Mom, he’s got to be.” Kip’s lower lip quivered. “I begged Sally to take us to the park.”
“Honey, you didn’t know what might happen.” She needed to listen to her own words, but that wasn’t as easy as it sounded. “Let’s get you two to Nana’s, and then I’ll go back to the hospital and check on him after the doctor has had time to see him in the E.R.” Kathleen shifted toward her twenty-three-year-old cousin. “I’m so sorry about this, Sally. Do you want to go to Mom’s?” She threw a glance toward the blaze. “It doesn’t look like much will be left. You’ll need a place to stay. You’re welcome to stay with me and the boys.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I can go to my mom’s. I need to stay and talk with some of my neighbors. See what happened. Then I’ll give Mom a call and have her come pick me up. She should be home. With Hurricane Naomi bearing down on us, I would have stayed at Mom’s anyway.” Sally looked south toward the water only a few blocks from the apartment building.
Kathleen couldn’t think of that. The storm in the Gulf was still several days away from Hope, Mississippi, a quaint town of twenty thousand between Mobile and New Orleans. Her hometown of stately antebellum homes along the water thrived on tourism and the fishing industry. But anything could happen between now and the date the National Weather Service projected Naomi would come ashore in the vicinity of Hope.
“I called your cell earlier when I arrived. All I could do was leave a message.”
Sally dug into her jean pocket and withdrew her phone. She winced. “Sorry. I had the sound off.” Her cousin peered off to Kathleen’s side. “Will Kip and Jared be okay?”
Kathleen followed the direction of Sally’s attention. Both of her sons’ gazes were glued to the commotion taking place at the Magnolia Street Apartments. Kip chewed his lower lip while her younger son took several feet forward. “I’d better get them away before Jared is in the middle of the chaos. I’ll talk to you later. If you need any help, please call.” She hugged her cousin, then made her way to her children, who were entranced by the plume of smoke bellowing into the sky being chased by yellow-orange flames.
Her mother would watch them while she went to check on the firefighter. She owed him that much for what he did for her. Kathleen clasped first Jared’s hand, then Kip’s. “We need to go to Nana’s.”
“But, Mom, I want to see what happens.” He had told her on a number of occasions he wanted to be a firefighter.
“No. They don’t need any more people here watching.” Kathleen scanned the crowd that had gathered across the street from the apartments. “Besides, if Nana hears about this, she’ll get worried.”
“Will she even be back from Biloxi yet?” Kip trudged toward her car parked several buildings away.
“I hope so.” Because she needed to go to the hospital. The firefighter had to be all right.
Will he make it?
The question plagued Kathleen the whole way into the E.R. thirty minutes later after she’d left her mother’s house. Luckily her mother had returned from her weekly visit to her friend in a nursing home in Biloxi. Activity and tension met Kathleen as she came through the double doors. Ashley, an E.R. nurse who had befriended her when she’d begun working at Hope Memorial six weeks ago, hurried from behind the counter, saw her and came toward her.
“Thank the Lord you are here. We need a hand. One of the nurses got sick and had to go home. Can you help me with a patient? I have two that need attention.” Ashley held up several vials of medicines and an IV bag.
“Is one of them the firefighter from the fire on Magnolia Street?” She rushed behind the counter and disposed of her purse in a drawer.
“Yes, he’s in room two.”
“I’ll take him. I just came from the fire. My cousin lives in those apartments. I wanted to check to see how he is.”
“I think he’ll be all right. I haven’t had much time with him yet. Besides him, there was a wreck on Interstate 10. Three injuries. It’s been hopping around here. I don’t want to even think about how it will be if Naomi hits here.”
Neither did Kathleen. As a child, she had gone through two minor hurricanes that had gotten her out of school for a couple of days but, other than that, hadn’t changed her life much at all. But Naomi was gathering speed and her winds were increasing.
Ashley thrust an IV bag into her hands. “He needs this.”
Her breath caught in her throat, Kathleen took it and started for the second door on the left. “What are his injuries?”
Ashley slanted a look at Kathleen and said, “I think several broken or cracked ribs, possible internal bleeding and smoke inhalation,” then entered E.R. unit number four.
When Kathleen went into room two, she stared at the firefighter lying on the bed. His damp black hair was plastered against his head, and there were dark smudges on his tan face. His steely gray eyes locked on her and seized her full attention.
“Pete. What about Pete? Did my partner get out okay?” His raspy voice weakened with each word he uttered.
“Yes, there were no other injuries at the fire.” Guilt swamped her at seeing the man she’d sent into the fire hurting, pain reflected in his gaze. The feeling was familiar. Hadn’t her husband, Derek, blamed her for causing his stress that led to his heart attack? Shaking away the memory, Kathleen hung an IV drip on the pole and hooked up his line.
“I’ll be fine.” The firefighter struggled to sit up. His eyes clouded, his face twisting into a frown.
Kathleen rushed forward to restrain the patient’s movements. “You need to lie down.”
“You’re the lady with the boys. Ruth’s daughter.” He swung one leg to the floor.
“Yes.” Kathleen touched his left arm to stop him.
