Second chance at the cro.., p.19
Second Chance at the Crossing, page 19
Molly had set up a creche in the corner of the hall, using the box of toys kept there. She was looking after Fran’s children and Ewan’s two boys. Miri must be with a friend, because there was no sign of her.
Everyone was on edge, listening to the two-way radio someone had set up to monitor the emergency channels. Most of these women had men out there, in danger, either in the SES or the fire services. The intermittent sound of sirens had everyone stilling for a moment to identify them. They’d be worried about hearing an ambulance.
At least Connor was in the air, away from the fire. She said as much to Cory who looked at her blankly. “Are you kidding? Flying in those hills with smoke everywhere, dodging other planes and helis. It’s one of the most dangerous jobs there is.”
Her stomach dropped, and she reached behind her for one of the folding chairs, sitting down gingerly on the cold metal.
Cory dropped her butter knife and crouched beside her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned anything. I thought Connor would have told you how his grandfather died.”
“His grandfather?” Eileen’s husband. “He crashed his plane?”
Deb scowled at them. “Now’s not the time, Corinne.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s much older now. More experienced.”
That made no sense. Had Connor been in the plane when his grandfather died? There was no chance for further conversation, because a truckload of firefighters descended on the hall and Cory and Deb went off to serve tea and coffee to the men, who seemed to be starved. This despite her recognising many of them as having been wolfing down food at the party that seemed like eons ago. Maybe it was like that for them, taking a quick break after spending hours fighting the fire.
From their conversation, they hadn’t been on the frontlines. They’d been up beyond the Appleton place, creating firebreaks. Ewan was still up there on one of his dozers, clearing a track through the thick brush to do double duty as a firebreak and access for the fire trucks. No wonder the Tolleys were worried. Ewan and Kev would be doing all they could to keep the fire from invading the edge of town. Moira and Gio lived up that way. Moira would be in the air, but Gio would be trying to fireproof his property.
She’d barely had that thought when his daughter and Miri sidled into the hall. Emilia waved, but Miri ignored her, heading straight for her brothers, joining in with whatever game Molly had started. Molly looked up with an odd expression before turning to one of the littlies. What was Molly so worried about? Unless she’d been more aware of Connor’s danger than Daisy had been.
Molly had been here all the time, and the Tolleys would have told her about the dangers. Dave had been a part of the Rural Fire Services before his health gave out.
The hours crawled past as the sun dropped in the west, leaving the town in an eerie orange twilight. Several other crews had dropped in to stoke up before returning to the battle. Connor had texted her to say he’d be coming in after his next run. The small plane he was flying was not safe at night, so it would be up to the heli to keep going.
There’d been talk on the radio about getting another helicopter in, but there were blazes all over the state and they couldn’t spare another for a fire that was already being managed.
Things had quietened on the catering side. All the teams must be out on the job. Gradually the workers all trickled outside to stand on the grass, watching the line of bright red and orange against the dark outline of the hills.
“Where is it? It seems close.”
Deb shifted beside her. “The ridge behind the Appleton place. They’re trying to save the homestead. Ewan hoped the solar field would slow it down, but it skipped past through that dense patch of bush between there and Xander and Bonnie’s place.”
She knew Bonnie. She’d been a year behind Molly at school. “Is their place threatened?”
“I hear the studio was damaged, but they were able to save it. The house is further down the hill and Xander keeps the field mown.”
“What about Jamesons?” They’d had enough tragedy this year. The pub and then Amy.
“It hasn’t made it that far west. They should be alright. The cattle keep everything down. No feed for the fire.”
That made it sound like a hungry beast. Maybe it was.
She turned as Cory called to her mother from the door. There was an urgency in her tone that sent a chill to her stomach. She followed Deb inside, hoping to help in some way. They’d been so good to her and Molly.
Cory was breathless, but not from running. She was holding back tears. “It’s Ewan. He’s hurt. They’re sending the helicopter to get him.”
Deb’s hand went to her throat. “Do you know what happened?”
“He was pushing through on the bulldozer and the fire jumped top to top. He cleared the way for the fire trucks to get through, but a tree fell.” She sucked in a breath. “They said he’d need to go to the burns unit.”
They heard the sound of the helicopter going overhead and rushed out. It was hard to see more than the lights, but the red bucket was swaying below it.
Cory nodded. “That will be Moira or Joe Junior. They’ll have to go back and pick up the rescue copter and head out again.”
The crowd had somehow picked up the urgency and were waiting, craning for the appearance of the yellow rescue helicopter. Faster than they expected it was back, arrowing its way into the murky skies.
“Someone on the ground must have prepped it, so they were able to take off as soon as they landed.”
Moira must be exhausted, but she wouldn’t shirk when there were lives at stake. This was what she did, and she was strong. So strong.
Moments later, the other helicopter appeared, dipping above the lake and following the track of the other one. They watched it get swallowed up and turned to talk to each other.
“Is it safe to fly in the smoke.”
“It’s not ideal, but they’ll keep above the worst of it. The SES guys would have stretchered Ewan to a truck and moved him to a clear space. They know what they’re doing.”
Her phone pinged a message and it was from Connor: Will be late. Which meant he was most likely piloting the second helicopter now Moira was doing the rescue.
It seemed like forever, but it was only twenty minutes before the rescue helicopter appeared, following the one with the bucket. It veered away from the lake, heading to the helipad at the hospital. As they speculated, the bright landing lights became visible over the houses.
The Tolleys leapt into action, gathering their children and their bags and clambering into the old brown Landcruiser. They would be at the hospital not long after the helicopter landed, and Ewan was unloaded. She wondered who would do the transfer flight to Brisbane.
It was almost an anticlimax when one of the SES crews came into the hall to grab a bite and tell everyone the fire was under control. They were a sombre bunch, worried about their team leader. Ewan was well liked, and the injury of any member was a knock to morale.
Daisy stayed where she was, serving up tea and coffee as more grimy, exhausted men wandered in. She had no transport, and she might as well be useful.
Molly came to stand beside her, Lara hooked on one hip. The rest of the children were gone. “You should go home. Lara must be tired.”
“She’s okay. I expect she’ll be awake half the night because she had a nap.”
“In all this racket?”
“While the place was quiet. Have you heard anything about Ewan?”
“Only that they stabilised him and then flew him out to the burns unit in Brisbane. Joe Junior and his dad took the flight because they were fresh.”
“Will he be all right?”
“Ewan? It’s hard to know. Whatever happens, it’ll be a tough road to recovery.”
“I guess.” She went to sit beside the radio, listening to the chatter. Daisy brought her a cup of tea and some sandwiches.
They were all waiting. She heard the helicopter go over towards the airfield. Either refuelling or landing. If the acute danger was over, he might not be needed again until morning. She gathered a small container of food and put it beside her bag. If Connor came, she wanted to be ready. He’d be exhausted.
Chapter Thirteen
The town hall clock said almost two in the morning when he went past on his way to the CWA hall. Gerry had said she was still there when last he’d spoken to someone at the SES depot. He’d left her without transport, but someone would have given her a lift if she’d asked.
There was a vintage Kingswood pulling into the car park and he followed it in. Mildred Appleton and a couple of her CWA cronies arriving for the night shift. There’d be guys coming and going till all hours, but the bulk of them would have gone home to sleep.
A couple of teams from Ballydoon had arrived to take over the mopping up and monitoring for the rest of the night. The wind had changed a couple of hours after sunset, pushing what was left of the fire back on itself, so they were unlikely to need him until daylight when they did a reconnoitre of the area.
The first person he saw when he followed Mildred into the hall was Daisy, her eyes wide and anxious. They brightened and before he knew it, she was in his arms. She wrapped herself around him, her head tucked under his chin. He’d waited an eternity to have this again. Would have fought a million fires if it meant she would forget her qualms and be with him. She smelled good. The floral scent of her hair and a touch of baked goods from handling food. Good enough to eat. Good enough to cut through the smell of oil and smoke.
“I was so worried. Everyone was worried.”
He pushed her away, once he’d taken his fill of her welcome warmth. “I’m filthy. Save the hugs till I get home and shower. Are you ready to go?”
She looked around and Mildred shooed her away. “You get on home, both of you. Staying up until all hours in your condition.” The last was accompanied by a pointed look at her hardly noticeable bump. How did she do it? She was as scary as Sade.
“I’ll drive.”
He handed her the keys without protest. He wasn’t sure how safe he was now the adrenaline had started to ebb. The tremor in his hand was spreading and he breathed deep to steady the pace of his heart.
She pulled out into the street, concentrating hard. Once they were on the empty road toward home, she shot a quick look at him. “What were you doing to get so filthy?”
“Refuelling for the most part, but we had to clean the aircraft straight away, so they’ll be ready for use in the morning. They had ash and soot baked into mud from the water.”
He leaned back in the seat and Daisy let him be. He blinked away the grit in his eyes, forcing himself to stay awake. Sleep would come anyway in all his dirt, but he’d regret it in the morning. He could put away his thoughts until then, too. He was in no condition to face the memories that had surfaced with Ewan’s injuries. God, he hoped he pulled through.
At home, Daisy bustled him into the shower and promised him something to eat. He was hungry, but doubted he had the energy to eat.
Scrubbed clean, he pulled on a pair of loose satin boxers and headed for the kitchen. His throat was dry enough to drink a full load of water from the bucket.
The second glass was half empty when Daisy arrived in the kitchen. She must have had a shower while he was in the bathroom, because she was wearing one of his old green band shirts as a nighty with a pink satiny dressing gown he didn’t recognise. Her hair was tied on the top of her head in a messy bun, her face clean of makeup.
She glanced at his belly, and he realised the boxers were sitting low on his hips.
“You’ve done something to your tattoo.”
A feeling like worms in his belly made him clench his stomach muscles. All his determination to be open with Daisy flew straight to hell at the thought of what that tattoo revealed. “Uh. Yeah.”
“May I look?”
He nodded, bracing himself for her scrutiny. A gentle touch tugged the boxers down a fraction, and she bent to look. She was very still, too silent.
“Daisies? You put daisies all around your mother’s tattoo?’
It was more of a horseshoe, looping under the rose, leaving the top clear. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“How drunk were you?”
“Dead sober.” He hadn’t done it until a year after she’d gone, when he’d realised she wasn’t coming back. Another loss to go alongside his mother. Molly had just told him she was going to Byron for that second Christmas.
Her expression was hard to read. A crease between her brows suggested she was puzzled, but the soft smile signalled something positive, he hoped.
“It’s a daisy chain.” Her fingers brushed over the pale pinkish flowers with pale blue centres.
His skin shivered under her touch. “It was about you. You were always my Daisy chain.”
He was chained to her in every way possible. Physically, mentally, emotionally. He’d wasted so much time protecting himself.
“It’s … nice. I’m not quite sure how I feel about being lumped in with your dead mother, but it’s a beautiful tattoo.”
“It’s not about being dead. It’s about being loved.”
This time her colour washed up from under the neck of his T-shirt and shone bright pink to the tips of her ears. She visibly shook herself, like a dog shedding water. “I’m not sure how I should take that, but you’re dropping on your feet. You should eat so you can get to bed.” She hadn’t lost the smile, but it was clear she wanted time to process the information.
She opened a box from the bench and lifted out a cardboard platter of sandwiches and mini quiches. “I wasn’t sure if there was anything ready to eat in the fridge, so I grabbed these.”
He let it go. Neither of them were in a good space for the kind of conversation they needed to have. At least there was plenty of food. They’d been expecting to bring home leftovers, so the fridge had nothing Christmassy in it. He bit into a beef sandwich and closed his eyes. So good. “We didn’t have the CWA ladies catering at the airfield and all the Christmas food had been taken away apart from a couple of platters of crackers, cheese and kabana. Maybe some olives, but Gerry scoffed those.”
His burst of energy lasted until the third quiche. He put the half-eaten piece back on his plate. “I am going to drop into bed. Are you coming?”
She packed away the food. “If you want.”
“There’s no need to be frightened. I’m incapable of more than putting out a few zees. I’d like company, though.” Company. A small word to mean so much. He didn’t think he could be alone tonight. Not with the ghosts of the past haunting him. Ironic that he’d been about to raise them himself when the call had come about the fire.
He crawled into his bed, not waiting to see if she followed.
Daisy shed her robe and climbed in, wriggling backward against him like she’d done hundreds of times before. He tucked her against his body, spoon fashion, letting his arm drape over her belly. Where his, their, child lay, warm and snug. He’d almost forgotten this pleasure, except in his dreams. It had been so damn long.
His tired brain sparked a query from the concerns rumbling around his unconscious. “Did you hear anything more about Ewan?”
She linked her fingers through his, resting her palm on the back of his hand. “Not since he arrived in Brisbane. Deb told Molly he was holding his own.”
“Good. I was afraid he wouldn’t make it.” More than afraid. He’d almost had a panic attack on the field when they’d asked him to go back up to take over from Moira. It had taken both Gerry and his father to talk him down. There’d been no other choice in the end. His father would be needed for the flight to Brisbane once Ewan had been prepped for the trip. It had been enough hours for the beer he’d had at lunch to dissipate from his system. Legally, he was good to go.
He tried to think of something else he intended to tell her, but it slipped away, into his dreams. She was there, too, but that was right. She was always there.
*
His bladder woke him when dawn was only a hint of paler sky in the east. He cursed the greedy way he’d guzzled down water when he’d known sleep would overtake him before his body had taken care of it. He swiped at the grit in his eyes and came away with a damp residue. Fuck, he hated those dreams. He hadn’t had them for years.
Daisy was still pressed against him, her butt against his morning wood. He slithered out of the bed, eliciting only a grumbling moan from her before she snuggled back into the covers.
By the time he was back in bed, his brain had buzzed into gear, and he was nowhere near sleep, despite his exhaustion.
It wasn’t so bad, relaxing with Daisy in his arms again. He’d begun to have hopes in these last weeks as they’d built a friendship based on an understanding they hadn’t had before. The issues might be there still, but now they were making the effort to talk about them. It had to be better than being defensive at the least hint of criticism, or walking away like he’d done because he’d known she would not back down.
It was full daylight when Daisy stirred in a way that told him she was finally awake. He’d dealt with a text telling him they would need him at ten for an official circuit of the burn area. There’d already been a news helicopter arrive in the district doing a flyover of the national park and the producers had passed over a copy of the film for the disaster management team to assess, so there was no urgency. Ewan was still holding his own, which didn’t really tell you much, but he’d probably hear more when he met with the zone commander for the flight.
Daisy twisted to face him, tangling her legs with his to maintain the closeness. “Hmmm? How long have you been awake?”
“A while. I have to head out just after nine.”
Her hand reached up to swipe something from his cheek. It couldn’t be tears. He’d washed away the telltale stains when he’d first woken up. He didn’t remember what he dreamed when he woke—never had—but he knew why he dreamed, because he knew the date they started. The dreams had always left him feeling limp and washed out, with a queasy ache in his gut, and today was no different, even with Daisy in his bed. The good and the bad created an ambivalence, and he knew there was only one way to push back against the past.
