Into the Fire (First Responders 3)

There was silence.

“Chris, I…”

“Ally…” They spoke at once and Ally sat back, thrown off balance once again. Less than twenty-four hours ago things had been so easy between them. But Ally had had time to think while he had been gone. Think and worry, huddled beneath a blanket, waiting for him to come home, wondering what was happening at the fire scene. She had been going to say she wasn’t sure she could do this. But the rough way he said her name brought her up short. Now wasn’t the time. They both had to step back, didn’t they? Think it through rather than just reacting to a high-emotion event.

But Chris apparently didn’t get that memo because his eyes were wide and sincere as he looked at her. “Ally,” he repeated, stronger now. “I need to tell you something.”

Her throat tightened but she nodded.

“This past summer I responded to an accident call. Do you remember it? The one with the girl who’d hydroplaned and was killed?”

She did remember it. It had been so sad. A young girl, a student at the university, out during a flash thunderstorm. It had been big news in the area.

“She was so young,” Chris said. “Her whole life ahead of her and then cut short, just like that. We always say that you shouldn’t put things off because you just never know, but that day it really hit home. I should have said something to you yesterday. It was in my heart and in my head and I didn’t say it.”

“It’s okay, Chris, please…” She didn’t want him to say it. Not now, not when things were so confused and mixed up in her head.

“I love you, Ally. I’m not sure I ever stopped. I can see that you’re panicking right now and it scares me to death. But it doesn’t change the fact that I love you. Yesterday was the most amazing day of my life. I should have told you but I didn’t. So I’m telling you now. I don’t expect you to say it back, but I love you.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “That’s not fair.”

“I know it’s not. I just don’t want to tap dance around our feelings. And when I’m out of here we’re going to talk about it all. Properly. I’m giving you fair warning.”

Ally’s stomach quaked as she tried to come up with something to say. She knew what it was to lose someone close to her. She never wanted to go through that again, and tonight had shown her exactly how harrowing it could be. She’d never forget the cold feeling that had seized her heart when she’d realized that it was a police car coming up the driveway. If she and Chris kept on, it might not be the only time it happened. And next time it might not be as simple as a broken arm.

A nurse poked her head through the curtain. “We’re going to get you prepped for surgery now, Mr. Jackson.”

“I should go,” Ally said, standing up.

“How will you get home? Do you need my truck? It’s at the fire hall…”

“I’ll call my dad. You take care, Chris.”

“I’ll be out of here before you know it,” he replied, fixing her with a firm stare. “And then we’re going to have that talk.”

“Okay.” What else could she say?

The nurse stepped inside the curtain and Chris grinned. “Well, looks like it’s time for a nap.” He lifted his right hand. “Come give me a kiss for luck, Ally.”

She couldn’t refuse him. Even battered and bruised, he was the sexiest man she’d ever known, and he was in love with her. And she was in love with him. There was no ignoring that fact no matter what was going on inside her head. She leaned over and touched her lips to his, softly, sweetly, a little longer than she expected and his right arm curled around her neck just a bit.

The nurse cleared her throat.

Ally stepped back. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, her voice quivering with nerves and emotion.

“Count on it,” he said, giving her a wink as they wheeled him away.

Chapter Six

Her father was being rather quiet on the drive, considering he had to know she’d been at Chris’s all night and then found out about Chris’s accident. Ally shifted in the passenger seat, listening to the radio on the short drive out of Kentville and back home.

The local news came on, including a brief bit about the fire and that firefighter Chris Jackson had been taken to hospital with minor injuries. She supposed in the big scale of things, a broken arm was minor. But even a minor injury was going to sideline him for weeks. And there was no escaping the fact that he’d had a close call.

She couldn’t stand the silent treatment any longer. The last words they’d spoken had been at the tea yesterday, and that didn’t sit well. Even if she’d been hurt, she didn’t like how they’d left things. And for all his stoic ways, her father had always been easier to talk to than her mother.

“It’s very hard to tell what you’re thinking,” she said quietly, reaching over and turning down the radio.

“Not much to say,” he answered. “Except that I’m sorry.”