the arm.
“Don’t even think about it,” the woman told him. “Leave this to the professionals.”
He nodded, then started coughing again.
She shook her head. “You went back inside, didn’t you? Civilians. Do you think we wear the masks because they’re pretty? Medic!” She yelled the last word and pointed at him.
“I’m fine,” Raoul managed, his chest tight.
“Let me guess. You’re a doctor, too. Cooperate with the nice lady or I’ll tell her you need an enema.”
Chapter Two
THERE WAS NOTHING LIKE a community disaster to snap a person out of a pity party, Pia thought as she stood on the lawn at the far end of the Ronan Elementary playground and stared at what had once been a beautiful old school. Now flames licked at the roof and caused glass windows to explode. The smell of destruction was everywhere.
She’d heard the fire trucks from her office and had seen the smoke darkening the sky. It had only taken her a second to figure out where the fire was and that it was going to be bad. Now, as she stood on the edge of the playground, she felt her breath catch as one of the walls seemed to shudder before falling in on itself.
She’d always heard people talk about fire as if it were alive. A living creature with cunning and determination and an evil nature. Until now, she’d never believed it. But watching the way the fire systematically destroyed the school, she thought there might be seeds of truth in the theory.
“This is bad,” she whispered.
“Worse than bad.”
Pia saw Mayor Marsha Tilson had joined her. The sixty-something woman stood with a hand pressed against her throat, her eyes wide.
“I spoke with the fire chief. She assured me they’ve gone through every room in the building. No one is left inside. But the building…” Marsha’s voice caught. “I went to school here.”
Pia put her arm around the other woman. “I know. It’s horrible to see this.”
Marsha visibly controlled her emotions. “We’re going to have to find somewhere to put the children. They can’t lose school days over this. But the other schools are full. We could bring in those portable classrooms. There must be someone I can call.” She glanced around. “Where’s Charity? She might know.”
Pia turned and saw her friend standing by the growing crowd of frantic parents. “Over there.”
Marsha saw her, then frowned. “She’s not getting any smoke, is she?”
Pia understood the concern. Charity was several months pregnant and the mayor’s granddaughter. “She’s upwind. She’ll be okay.”
Marsha stared at the destruction. “What could have started this?”
“We’ll find out. The important thing is all the kids and staff got out safely. We can fix the school.”
Marsha squeezed her hand. “You’re rational. Right now I need that. Thank you, Pia.”
“We’ll get through this together.”
“I know. That makes me feel better. I’m going to talk to Charity.”
As the mayor moved off, Pia stayed on the grass. Every few seconds, a blast of heat reached her and with it the smell of smoke and annihilation.
Just that morning she’d walked by the school and everything had been fine. How could things change so quickly?
Before she could figure out an answer, she saw more parents arriving on the scene. Mothers and some fathers rushed toward the children huddled together, protected by their teachers. There were cries of relief and of fear. Children were hugged, then searched for injuries, teachers thanked. The school principal stood by the children, a stack of pages on a clipboard.
Probably the master roster, Pia thought. Given the circumstances, parents would probably have to sign out their kids, so everyone was accounted for.
Two more fire trucks pulled up, sirens blaring. The school fire alarms were finally silenced but the noise was still deafening. People shouted, the truck engines rumbled. A voice over a megaphone warned everyone to stay back, then pointed out the location of the emergency medical vehicles.
Pia glanced in that direction and was surprised to see a tall, familiar man speaking with one of the EMT women. Raoul’s hair was tousled, his face smudged. He paused to cough and despite it all, the man still looked good.
“Just so typical,” she muttered as she crossed the playground and went toward him.
“Let me guess,” she said as she approached. “You did something heroic.”
“You mean stupid,” the medic told her with a roll of her eyes. “It’s a gender thing. They can’t help it.”
Pia chuckled. “Don’t I know it.” She turned to Raoul. “Tell me you didn’t race into a burning building in an attempt to save a child.”
He straightened and drew in a deep breath. “Why do you say it like that? It’s not a bad thing.”
“There are professionals here who know what they’re doing.”
“That’s what I keep getting told. What happened to a little gratitude for risking my life?”
“Odds are, you would have been overcome by smoke, thereby giving the firefighters more work to do instead of less,” the medic told him. She pulled some kind of measuring device off his finger.
“You’re fine,” she continued. “If you have any of the symptoms we talked about, go to the E.R.” She glanced at Pia. “Is he with you?”
Pia shook her head.
“Smart girl,” the medic said, then moved on to the next patient.
“Ouch,” Raoul said. “This is a tough town.”
“Don’t worry,” Pia told him. “I’m sure there will be plenty of women who will want to fawn all over you and coo as you retell your tale of bravery.”
“But you’re not one of them.”
“Not today.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
For a second she didn’t understand the question. Then reality returned. That’s right—he’d witnessed her breakdown earlier in the day. Talk about an emotion dump.
“I meant to call you,” she said, moving beside him as they walked away from the medics. “To apologize. I usually have my meltdowns in private.”
“It’s okay. I’d say I understand, but you’ll probably bite my head off if I do. How about if I tell you I’m sympathetic?”
“I would appreciate that.”
