“They’re safe, and let me take a look at your hand.”
“My babies. You’re sure? You’re sure they’re out?” She couldn’t believe him. She was in shock, and rightfully so. Worse, she probably didn’t feel pain from the burns, with all the adrenaline in her system. He knew about adrenaline. It was why he was moving his leg.
“I’m sure,” he told her. “See? There they are, safe with those people. Here are the fire trucks. It’s going to be all right. You just lie back and we’ll keep cold water on these burns.”
“Oh, thank God.” Reason returned. Her relief became grateful tears as she refused to take her gaze from the completely unharmed children being looked after by a grandparent-type couple.
“You did good work.” He removed the cloth and redunked it into the ice bucket, intending to thank the Good Samaritan who’d brought the wet towels. Not everyone helped in a crisis. But the instant his gaze met her face, the words lodged in his throat.
Cadence. He should have known it was her. She worked with her head down, intent on icing the mother’s burned knee, and he noticed Cadence’s slender hands. It had been more than a decade, but he would know her long sleek fingers anywhere, slender and soft. Her nails were short but painted a conservative pearled pink.
He took in the details. She wore more inexpensive items. Her cutoffs had been worn nearly white, and the T-shirt was faded from too many washings. It was hard to read the crinkled white letters proclaiming Swim For The Kids.
She was still the same old Cadence with her everything-in-its-place methodology, and she was still a bleeding heart. Swim-a-thon fund-raisers and offering aid.
Well, there was no ring on her left hand. That was something to think about as he turned to the young mother, talking to her above the screaming sirens and the air brakes of the fire trucks. The pain was probably starting to set in now. He thanked the clerk from the quick mart for a blanket and started wrapping her up.
“And you, ma’am.” He offered her one of his best grins and rubbed the tears from her cheeks, gently as if she were a child. “I’m going to turn you over to the paramedics. Look, they’re just pulling up now. They aren’t as good-looking as I am, I’m sure.” He winked. “But they’ll probably be able to take good care of you.”
“You’re trying to make me laugh.” She was sobbing harder. “You saved my babies. How can I ever thank you for that?”
“Ma’am, you don’t need to thank me. I’m your tax money at work. Just doing my job.” He saluted her, because it made the lines of concern wrinkling her brow ease. “You do what these men tell you, and take good care, okay? I’ll be praying for you.”
“Oh, thank you.” More tears streaked down her face.
Ben stood, aware of Cadence’s curious gaze, which he ignored. Duty first.
“What do we have here?” A young paramedic, probably around twenty by the looks of him, came up next to Ben and, with calm and knowledgeable eyes, surveyed the burned woman.
Ben filled him in quickly, so the medic could get to work. As he began to relax, he realized the fire trucks had parked and firemen were busy. The crowd had moved back to the curb, and more interested folks had gathered along the street to watch.
He was surprised to see such a peaceful scene, for he was used to patching up people with bullets flying around him. This was a piece of cake. And a happy ending all around, once the mother’s burns were healed. He was thankful she hadn’t been hurt worse.
But he wasn’t sure what to do about Cadence. She was still talking to the mom as the paramedics began their work. He backed away, turning to make way for the medical equipment and the gurney as more paramedics arrived.
Cadence was busy. And he didn’t want to talk to her. Maybe she hadn’t realized who he was, but if she did, she would not be glad to see him.
Frankly, he couldn’t blame her.
Failure was something he hated, and there was so much of it in his past. Add that pain to the way his leg was killing him and the heat blast from the fire that made his back sting like crazy. It was time to go.
That’s just what he did.
“Hey, wonder man, what about your burns?”
The question that came from behind him was spoken in a serene voice, as peaceful as a lazy summer’s day.
Cadence’s voice. The back of his neck prickled, as it did whenever he felt God at work in his life. The tingle shivered through his spine and into his soul.
She moved after him. “You’re on fire. Hold still, cowboy.”
She still hadn’t recognized him? He waited while she covered him with the charred remains of her stadium blanket. A few pats and the embers were out, and once again he was in Cadence’s debt. Maybe this time he was man enough to know what that meant.
“Are you hurt?” she asked without looking at his face. “Your shirt has a hole in it. You’ve got to be burned.”
“I’m okay.” He turned around and braced himself for the worst.
He watched her go from polite to wide-eyed surprise. So now she recognized him. He hadn’t been sure if she would. Not a lot of folks would these days.
Gone was the long hair of his rebellious youth, replaced by a military cut and discipline that had helped to give him an entirely new purpose to his life. When he’d known Cadence, he’d needed a purpose more than any teenaged boy wanted to admit.
Looking back wasn’t easy.
Nor was it easy to watch the surprise on Cadence’s lovely face turn to disdain. “Ben?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“I should have known where there was trouble, you would be nearby.”
“Hey, I didn’t start the fire. Blame it on static electricity.”
“So it’s still that way, is it? Always the other guy’s fault?”
He fidgeted, definitely uncomfortable. She hadn’t forgotten, that was for plumb sure, and there was no friendliness in her shimmering eyes or welcoming smile on her soft lips as she folded up the blanket.
“Your shirt’s no longer smoking, so I guess you’ll make it. You’ll still be here to torment decent folks for some time to come.”
“The good Lord willing.” He cracked her his best grin, the one that seemed to have an effect on women, but she seemed impervious to it.
She didn’t blink. Her stiff demeanor didn’t relax. Her mouth didn’t so much as twitch into an answering smile.
“What are you, a doctor?” she asked, watching him with a jaded eye.
So she wasn’t glad to see him. Well, he’d known that’s how she would feel, and he wasn’t so glad to see her either. A doctor? No. He didn’t answer, because the last thing he wanted to talk about was his life.
What about her life? What fancy
