The dog went from barking to whimpering. One of my men had followed me. He covered the dog and me with another metallic survival cover and led us through the flames. The dog leaped out of my arms and joined his family as my men ushered them through.
I realized my right arm was on fire, and flames licked my side. I collapsed to the ground and tried to catch my breath as I rolled, but only smoke filled my lungs. I looked around, counting heads and trying to determine if all my men were accounted for. I counted fourteen silhouettes but wasn’t sure they were all on my team. They were still digging and clearing brush as the fire line did its job of starving the fire before it reached the town below.
“Get a medevac up here!” I heard someone shout as my vision grew spotty. “Nate, hold on, buddy!”
“I’m fine,” I choked, but the words came out in a coughing fit. I felt them slapping my legs, my ribs, my arm, cutting off my fire gear, opening my clothes. As I heard the blades of a helicopter overhead, the world seemed to melt and blend into the particles of smoke around me, pulling me into the abyss of my mind.
Chapter 3
Nate
I woke up in a blindingly bright room, my clothes off and something clamped to my face. I tried to reach it, but I couldn’t bend my right arm, and my hand stung. An IV was taped to my other hand, but I moved carefully and touched the thing over my face.
An oxygen mask. I tried to sit up. “What happened?”
T-bird came to my bedside, a sheen of smoky sweat still soiling his face. “Nate, lie back, man.”
“The fire,” I said. “Need to get back. My men.”
“They’re still there. Making progress. But you’re not going anywhere near a fire for a month or so.”
I took off the mask and coughed a little, but managed to catch my breath. “A month?”
“Yep. Second-degree burns on 20 percent of your body. Some of the burns are deep.”
It came back to me, the event that had gotten me here. “The family. Were they injured?”
“Not a scratch or burn. Turns out it was a US senator from Kansas. He says you’re a hero.”
“You know I had no choice. They were in the path—”
“Take the praise where you can get it, man. We don’t get that much.”
I looked at my right side. My right arm was bandaged, and so was my side and down my right leg to the point where my boots had stopped the flames. Second degree wasn’t so bad, I told myself. Third degree would have been brutal. I’d be able to leave the hospital soon. I’d heal.
“I won’t need a month,” I said.
“Yes, you will. They can’t let you go back. Doctor’s orders. You’re grounded until he releases you.”
I managed to sit up, but it was a bad idea. The burns pulling on my skin reminded me why I shouldn’t. “I can’t be grounded during fire season. Are you crazy? I need to be there. You don’t have enough men as it is.”
“Sorry, Nate. It is what it is. Why don’t you go home to Carlisle for a while? Take it easy.”
Go home? Pop had just been pardoned, and he and my mom were trying to navigate the reunion. Though she would love to have me home, I didn’t know if I was up to it. My father could be challenging, and fourteen years of prison hadn’t done him any favors.
I could just stay in my one-bedroom apartment here, stuck on the sidelines for a month, but that would be grueling. I couldn’t take just sitting on the bench while my team was on the field. It felt like failure.
Yes, I would need the distraction of Carlisle. Maybe my hometown could heal more than just my burns—if it didn’t cause newer, deeper wounds instead.
Saturday when they released me from the hospital, I drove to Carlisle. The last place I wanted to go was the bar my brother owned called Flannigan’s, which was full of landmine memories, but I had no choice. I’d called ahead and told the family I was coming, but I hadn’t mentioned my injuries. I would bunk with my brother, who’d recently bought a house. There was no way I was going to spend nights at my parents’ house. Drew had told me to come to Flannigan’s to pick up the key.
For my mother’s sake, I was glad Pop hadn’t gone back to the bottle since he’d gotten home a couple of days ago. She had been a trooper for years, enduring the shame of being the wife of the man convicted of killing the preacher. She’d stood by his claim that he wasn’t the real killer, and she truly believed him.
But I figured the most obvious scenario was usually the right one.
I dreaded the thought of having Pop back in Carlisle. It wouldn’t be easy. Would he eventually go back to his drunken ways? Would he treat my mother with respect this time?
I would have to go by there later, but for now, I just wanted to get settled. The freshly bandaged burns on most of my right side would send my mother into a panic.
Leaving my bag on the seat, I got out of the car and limped between vehicles. Though the fire raged on just an hour and a half north, it had rained here for about fifteen minutes earlier in the day, easing the drought that had lasted for months. But I knew it hadn’t been enough rain to fireproof the vegetation. The cracked asphalt parking lot was still pocked with puddles. Pop had stumbled over these same potholes fourteen years ago, before his drinking days came to an end.
I pulled the door open, and music blasted me. It was too loud, or I was too much older. Little had changed. Griff Bently still sat in his usual place at the bar, though his shoulders looked more stooped and his hair had turned white. A few stools down sat Dooley, one of Pop’s old cohorts. I wondered if he’d been by yet to see my dad.
“Son of a gun, if it ain’t Nate Beckett.”
I leaned across the counter and shook the bartender’s hand. “How’s it goin’, Duke? I was just looking for my brother. Is he here?”
“Somewhere around here.” Duke pointed his washrag to his left. “Last time I seen him he was that way.”
I scanned the crowd, searching for my brother, who was no doubt partying with some of his customers. Buying the bar had been his dream so he could have a nightlife and still make a living.
“Welcome back to Carlisle, man,” Duke said.
My chuckle was forced. “Not everybody will feel that way.”
“They like Drew.”
“Yeah, but he’s their drinking buddy. I was practically run out of town.”
“No, you weren’t. You up and disappeared.”
I looked back at the crowd and remembered the accusations that had prompted me to leave. After Pop had been convicted, I’d known that defending myself from arson rumors wouldn’t go over well.
My phone vibrated. I pulled it out and saw a text from T-Bird: You all right?
With my thumb, I typed back, Yeah, I busted out. I’m in Carlisle.
Take care of yourself, he wrote.
A pair of arms grabbed me from behind, and I winced at the sudden pain ripping through the burns on my ribs.
“When did you get here?” Drew asked, taking the stool next to me. “I’ve been waiting, man. I thought you would be here two days ago, when Dad got home. Why haven’t you answered your phone? Did you have to go back to the fire?”
My brother’s brown beard and mustache never changed, but his hair was shorter than it had been the last time I’d seen him, when he’d driven Mom to visit. I gave him a half hug. “I didn’t want everybody to get all concerned, but I had a little accident. Had to spend the last couple of nights in the hospital.”