Rescued By The Firefighter. Catherine Lanigan

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Rescued By The Firefighter - Catherine Lanigan Mills & Boon Heartwarming

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sound of his terror clanged in her head like discordant and mournful bells.

      She realized that she didn’t hear the sirens any longer. Had the trucks arrived? Or had it been her imagination all along that they were on their way? Had she imagined the dispatcher’s words? What other mistakes had she made in this nightmare? Would she be Eli’s hero or the cause of his death?

      From somewhere, she found a thread of solid strength that bolted up her spine and empowered her arms. She pulled Eli close to her chest. “We’re going to make a run for it,” she said decisively.

      “We can’t leave...”

      “What? Why?”

      “We have to find Chris.”

       CHAPTER THREE

      RAND NELSON PULLED his fire engine to a stop in front of the camp and stared over the steering wheel in disbelief at what he was seeing: a woman running toward the fire.

      “No way in...”

      He jumped out the driver’s door, his heavy leather-booted feet hitting the ground with a thud. He grabbed his thermoplastic helmet off the console, then his goggles and pigskin gloves.

      The massive Indian Lake fire engine pulled up behind him, Captain Bolton quickly exiting the truck and assessing the situation.

      Bolton quickly dispensed orders to the team, though every man knew their tasks. Extensive, in-depth training and experience had taught the Indian Lake crew how to manage and overpower forest fires big and small.

      “Was that a woman? Running into the fire?” Rand asked Captain Bolton.

      “You’ve got to be kidding. Where?” Captain Bolton spun around to follow Rand’s extended arm as he pointed into the worst section of burning trees and brush.

      “That blonde woman. Right there.” Rand put on his goggles. “I’m going in after her.”

      Captain Bolton waved Rand on. Then he quickly went to the large hose lays on the wildland fire engine.

      Rand had seen some crazy, reckless acts in his years as a smoke jumper in California, then as a trainer in Boise, Idaho, and now, as a part-time firefighter at Indian Lake Engine #2, but this was a first. He’d heard about people who went back into burning houses to save a family member or a pet. But he’d never seen anyone run into a forest fire.

      And why?

      Was there someone else out there? Even if there was, the long-haired blonde should have left the rescue to the professionals. She wasn’t wearing a Nomex suit like he was. Or a helmet, boots and gloves. Didn’t she know that the heat alone could boil her skin? Set her hair on fire? And why wouldn’t she at least tie that long hair up?

      Should he use the hose to try and contain the fire around the woman? Their truck could pump five hundred gallons of water on the flames. As long as the wind didn’t change direction, they’d be able to keep the fire to the forest, and the kids and the camp property would be safe. Then the situation would be safer for both him and the woman.

      “Sir! Sir!” He heard a female voice behind him. Then a tug on his arm.

      A young woman with chin-length black hair pointed to the fire. “She’s in there. She went after him. You have to help her!”

      “Who is she?”

      “Beatrice Wilcox. My boss. She owns the camp.” The woman struggled for breath, coughing on the rising smoke. “I’m Maisie. A counselor. We evacuated the children. She and I are the only ones left. Except for Eli and Chris—they’re missing.”

      “Missing?” His jaw dropped as he looked back at the fire. “How old?”

      “Eli is six. Chris just turned ten. They’re brothers. Beatrice thought she spotted Eli. But now I can’t see her.” Maisie’s eyes filled with tears. She put her palms to her cheeks. “She’s not like this. Daredevil things are not her deal, you know?” Her eyes shot back to his face. “Please, sir. Help her. She’s in there...somewhere.”

      He put his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. “I’ll find her. And the kids.”

      Maisie held her breath and nodded.

      The familiar sweetness of adrenaline shot through his body as he entered the fire. He was on high alert. The perimeter of the fire was already losing energy as it neared the road. However, the farther he went into the forest, the mightier the flames.

      An explosion shook the air and the ground as Rand stepped over a burning log. He lifted his head to see a flaming branch head straight for him. Backing out of the path of the falling log, he reached into the tool belt around his waist and grabbed his hatchet, ready to attack any errant shrapnel that often erupted from dry branches as they crashed to the ground.

      Only inches from his boot, the log landed with a thud, the flames smothering themselves on the ground.

      He stepped over the log and scanned the area.

      Then he saw her.

      Remarkably, she was standing in a tiny space that was untouched by the fire, though flames created a curtain on either side of her. She held a child close to her chest, the burning forest giving them a crimson outline. She almost didn’t look real. The heat from the fire lifted her hair from her shoulders. He could almost feel her eyes on him, as if they had a force of their own, drawing him in. Terror was powerful like that. The little boy was crying as he clutched Beatrice’s neck. “Chris!” she called.

      Rand assumed that the child in her arms was Eli, the younger of the two brothers. Chris, evidently, was still missing.

       Not good.

      “Beatrice?” Rand called as he moved quickly toward her.

      “Yes! Yes!”

      “Don’t move. I’m coming in to get you,” he said, just as a sharp crack sounded. He glanced up.

      An enormous limb from a forty-foot sycamore tree broke off. Flames waved long and wide from the limb, looking like amber silk scarves as it sailed straight for Beatrice and the little boy.

      She dashed toward Rand, but her foot caught on an exposed tree root. She fell to the ground, still holding the crying little boy.

      “Bee—!” Rand never got out the rest of her name as he bolted forward. In three long strides he was at her side. “Beatrice. I’m here,” he said. Then he looked at the boy. “Eli, don’t be afraid. I have you now.”

      “It’s okay, Eli,” she said softly as she lifted her face from Eli to Rand.

      He gazed into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. “I can take the boy.”

      “No!” Eli cried. “I want to stay with Miss Beatrice.”

      “It’s okay, Eli. He’s come to save us. You’ll be fine,” she said, massaging Eli’s back. Then she handed Eli to Rand. “Thank you,”

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