An Accidental Family (6 page)

He bellowed Amy’s name, and Adam and Julie’s, too, but all he heard in response was the hissing and popping of the hungry fire as it gnawed at the clapboard siding.

If God heard his prayers, Lamont would find her out back, cussing and kicking dirt while aiming a garden hose at the fiery beast. His heart sank as he rounded the corner, for she was nowhere in sight. She’d parked her car in the usual place, he’d noticed earlier, beside Adam’s seen-better-days pickup. The little truck was gone. Maybe no one had answered because they’d driven into town. Hadn’t he heard Amy asking for a chocolate shake earlier? The thought gave him hope.

But it was nearly midnight. Even if the family had gone to Amarillo, wouldn’t they be home by now? And then he remembered that Nadine had tucked Amy in, hours ago…

“Nadine!” he shouted, pounding on the door. “It’s Lamont!”

But in place of her familiar voice, he heard only the crackling and sizzling of the fire, the frenzied howl of herd dogs, the neighing of alarmed horses and the bleating of Nadine’s pygmy goats. Dread drummed inside him, because if she and her kids were in there…

The thought was too horrible to complete. He swallowed, hoped they’d gone to town. Anything—a flat, a stalled motor, a thrown rod—was better than the alternative.

Flames belched from the upstairs windows. Glass shattered and rained down on him like hail, each shard stinging his cheeks and forearms. The roar was deafening as fire gobbled at the shutters, folded over the eaves and climbed onto the roof.

Terror drove him, because if they were up there, they didn’t stand a chance. He climbed the flagstone steps of her back porch and, leaning back, kicked the door for all he was worth.

Arm bent to protect his eyes from the blinding light and skin-crisping heat, Lamont spotted the cake plate he’d put on the table hours before. Shiny red ceramic splinters lay scattered across charred floorboards that once gleamed like spun honey.

Then he saw what looked like a pair of size five tennis shoes on the floor beside the pantry.
Nadine’s
shoes.

And she was still in them.

Heart beating like a war drum, he plowed through the thick smoke, scooped her up and bolted toward the still-open door.

But the blast of air that followed him inside had built a hulking wall of scarlet flames between him and the
exit, and raked the ceiling. To reach the safety of her yard, he’d have to break through it, carrying Nadine.

Soot ringed her nose and mouth. Was she breathing? He couldn’t tell, and there was no time to check. If he didn’t get her outside, pronto, only the Almighty knew what might happen.

Eyes squinted against the blinding brightness, he tucked her hands between his chest and hers, then pressed her face into the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath, Lamont gave a mighty cry and surged ahead.

As he plunged through the fiery barricade, the thunder of the blaze melted into searing heat. He felt its fury, biting at his forearms and knuckles, his earlobes. The foul-smelling scent of burning hair assaulted his nostrils as he ran for his life and Nadine’s. Legs churning, boots pounding—first over hardwood, then flagstone, and finally onto the welcoming softness of soft sod—he ran.

He’d gone halfway down her driveway before his legs gave out. Draping her across his lap, he gulped air and checked her pulse. Grateful tears brimmed in his eyes once he saw that she was breathing—raggedly, but breathing! “Hey,” he whispered. Finger-combing burned bangs from her forehead, he cleared his throat, hoping she hadn’t heard the hitch in his voice. Gently stroking her soot-streaked cheeks, he said again, “Hey, give me a sign you’re okay, will ya?”

Long lashes fluttered, then her lids lifted, exposing blue eyes made violet in the fire’s eerie orange light. “You kicked in my door,” she croaked. “Bet ya busted the lock.”

Blessed relief surged through him at the sound of her smoky voice. He hugged her tight. “Don’t worry.
I’ll fix it.” He heard her smack her lips, and wished he’d thought to grab the bottle of water standing in the cup holder of his truck. Then it struck him like a two-by-four to the head. “Where are Adam and Julie and Amy?”

“They…the kids took Amy…” She sputtered. “Drive-in movie,” she said, “in…somewhere off Route 27, I think…”

“Thank God,” he said, and as the welcome sound of sirens screamed closer, Nadine slid back into unconsciousness.

The ambulance was the last truck to screech to a halt. EMTs shoved him aside and lost no time hooking Nadine up to an IV, loading her onto a gurney and sliding her into the back of the vehicle. Lamont was telling a state trooper what little he knew about the situation when the rescue vehicle sped away, Nadine in tow.

Should he wait here for her kids or follow the ambulance?

A hand on his shoulder made him lurch.

“Sorry,” a paramedic drawled, “didn’t mean to startle you.” Then, “Don’t worry. I’ve seen smoke inhalation dozens of times and I know when it’s bad. She’ll pull through just fine. Besides,” he added, chuckling, “that’s no ordinary woman in the back of that truck. That’s Nadine Greene. Me ’n’ Nadine—we go way back.” He took off his helmet and gave a slow nod. “Why, that li’l gal is stronger’n most men I know. The docs’ll probably hafta tie her down, but mark my words, one night in the hospital, an’ she’ll be rarin’ t’get out.”

He’d meant to reassure, Lamont knew. And what he’d said was true—if anyone could rally from a thing like this fast, it was Nadine. But that thought was lost amid
others: What kind of relationship did she have with this guy, and why hadn’t she told Lamont about it?

He ran both hands through his hair as guilt churned in his gut. This was neither the time nor the place to be acting jealous that his steady girl might’ve flirted with the high school quarterback.

The firefighters all but had the blaze under control. Water from their hoses spat and hissed as it pounded down on the smoldering remains of the house. He wondered how much of this Nadine had seen. None of it, he hoped, because priority one was getting her back on her feet. And, knowing her, recuperation would be stalled if she got to fretting about how she’d rebuild.

Oh, how he wanted to be with her now!

But Lamont knew in his heart what she’d ask of him, if she could: Stay, and explain things to her son and his family, and assure them that she’d be fine, right as rain, fit as a fiddle.

He’d teasingly called her the Mistress of Clichés at Lily’s wedding reception. That memory conjured others, like the night they’d walked hand in hand around this very yard, and how she might have let him kiss her earlier, if Julie’s helpful question hadn’t interrupted, and—

“Here comes Nadine’s boy,” the EMT said, gesturing toward the pickup rolling up the driveway.

Lamont took a deep breath. Surely Adam had passed the ambulance, tearing the opposite way, as he headed for the farmhouse.

“Lamont,” her son said, hefting his daughter from the car, “where’s Mom?”

“She’s on her way to Amarillo General. Just a precaution, I’m sure.”

“Well, thank God for that,” Adam said, staring at the smoking remains of the house.

“Do they know how it happened?”

Lamont turned toward the voice, and saw Julie, still sitting in the passenger seat, holding a paper napkin to her lips. “Sorry,” he said, “but I can’t tell you how it happened. Saw the flames from my place, called 911 on the way over.” He didn’t tell them the condition Nadine had been in when he’d found her, how pale and vulnerable she’d looked as the EMTs loaded her into the ambulance. Instead, he echoed the paramedic’s words about her grit and stamina. With each syllable, Amy’s blue eyes grew larger.

“If you hadn’t shown up when you did, no telling—” Adam said again when Lamont finished.

“Mr. London,” Amy interrupted, “did Grandmom get burnt?”

Honestly, he had no earthly idea. Everything happened so fast, he hadn’t had a chance to check. Lamont tucked a stray blond curl behind her ear. “I don’t think so, darlin’. She got a little smoke in her lungs, but the doctors at the hospital are going to fix her right up.”

She put one tiny hand on either side of her father’s face, exactly as Nadine had with Lamont earlier. “Will she die, Daddy?”

Adam’s brow furrowed for a fleeing moment. “’Course not,” he said, forcing a grin. “You know Grandmom. Nothing can keep her down!”

When Amy looked to Lamont for confirmation, he nodded. “She’ll be good as new and home again in no time.”

“Can we go to the hop-sital, Daddy?” Amy asked. “I want to see her.”

Adam swallowed, hard. “Well,” he began, “I—”

“Tell you what,” Lamont said. “It’s late, and your grandmom had quite a night. She needs her rest. So how ’bout you and your mom and dad come on over to my house and try to get some shut-eye while your daddy checks up on Grandmom. And after a nice big breakfast tomorrow morning, we’ll all go to the hospital together.”

Her face brightened a bit. “Can we spend the night at Mr. London’s house, Daddy? Can we?”

Adam exhaled a deep sigh. “Thanks, Lamont. That’s mighty generous of you.”

He waved the comment away. “Hey, what’re friends for?” And, laughing, he added, “Besides, it’ll be nice having y’all there. That place is way too big for one man.”

Shoulders sagging, Adam heaved a heavy sigh and stared at what had been his childhood home. “Well, I guess there’s nothing more we can do here.”

“Meet you at River Valley,” Lamont said. “If you should get there before I do, the back door’s unlocked.” To Amy, he added, “Obnoxious is probably outside. He’s gonna be one happy pup to have a little girl around to play with!”

Resting her head on her father’s chest, she smiled sadly and nodded.

All the way back to the ranch, Adam’s headlights danced in Lamont’s rearview mirror. It dawned on him that Nadine, her son and his family had nowhere else to go. Would they accept his offer to stay at the ranch house until her own could be rebuilt? He wasn’t at all sure, because Nadine could be mighty proud and stubborn when she put her mind to it.

Times had been hard for her these past few years, what with the drought and all. Now her house and
everything in it was gone. The few pieces of furniture or clothing that hadn’t burned to a crisp were too water-logged from the fire hoses to be of any use. Maybe he could scare up something from one of his girls’ boxes in the attic for her and Julie and Amy. His own clothes would be a tad big for Adam, but they’d do for the time being.

The welcoming golden glow of his ranch house came into view and, despite the horrible night, he managed a half grin, imagining Amy’s tiny sneakered feet thumping up and down the hardwood stairs, giggling as Obnoxious ran close on her heels.

Sure would be nice having a little girl in the house again.

And in a few days, Nadine, big-eyed and gorgeous, would be smiling across the kitchen table at him. It would be even nicer having a
big
girl in the house again.

“I’m glad Adam decided to stay home and rest,” Nadine said. “He was here all night.”

Lamont nodded. “Julie is getting them settled in. Making breakfast. Unpacking the boxes of my girls’ old clothes to see what might fit her.” He chuckled. “She asked me to show her how to use the washing machine.”

“I can’t wait to get out of this place and plop myself into a chair at Kaye’s salon. I guess that doesn’t make much sense to you, though, does it?”

“No need to explain yourself to me,” Lamont said, hands up like a robbery victim. “I understand. Completely.”

Nadine shook a finger under his nose. “Don’t give me that, cowboy. You don’t understand diddly.” She watched his dark brows move closer together.

He crossed both arms over his chest and, boots shoulder-width apart, cocked his head. “You’re mighty sure of yourself.”

“I’d bet my house, if I still had one.” She lifted her chin to hide the ache caused by stating the awful fact. “Because it’s written all over your face.”

Now the well-arched brows rose high on his forehead. “What’s written all over my face?”

“You’re confused. Bewildered—”

He closed one eye. “Mmm, wasn’t that a song back in the ’40s?”

Tempted to grin, she set her mouth in a taut line. She couldn’t let him get away with changing the subject that easily. “You don’t have a clue why I want to stop off at the beauty parlor on the way home.”

“’Course I do.” He tucked his fingertips into his jeans pockets. “You don’t want your kids to see what the fire did to your hair, ’cause it might scare ’em.”

Self-consciously, she put a hand on her flame-frizzed locks. He’d said it so matter-of-factly. And hit the nail square on the head, as her daddy used to say. Which shocked her, more than she cared to admit, because Ernest had never understood anything about her, least of all something as frivolous and vain as this. He’d have called the mission silly, a ridiculous waste of money.

Thankfully, Lamont broke the moment tension by making himself comfortable in the dusty-pink chair beside her hospital bed. “Soon as the nurse gives the nod, we’ll head out. Need anything in the meantime?”

Closing her eyes, she bobbed her head left, then right, trying to flex kinked muscles. Evidently, she’d lain long enough in a pretzel position near the pantry to put a se
rious cramp in her neck.
Good old-fashioned massage would be nice,
she thought, rubbing her temples.

Nadine heard the shuffle of his boots on the fleck-tiled floor, then felt his big, warm hands on her shoulders. “Lamont London, what do you think you’re—”

“Doc said you need some of this antibiotic ointment on your burns. Besides, looks to me like you could use a good old-fashioned rubdown. Between the concussion and everything else…”

Had she spoken her thoughts aloud? She must have; how else could he have known exactly what she’d been thinking?

Gently, he rubbed the healing salve into her knotted shoulder muscles. “Tell me if I get too rough,” he said. “Sometimes, I don’t know my own strength.”

How many times had Ernest said
that?
Only every time he’d left her bloodied and bruised, which would amount to hundreds of times over their years together. For some reason she couldn’t explain, Lamont’s simple comment made her think of the time when she’d seen him lose his temper at the hardware store. His coupon was valid, he’d insisted, the sale on screwdrivers wouldn’t officially end until closing. The gum-chewing teenager behind the counter relented, with one minute to spare, and Lamont filled it with a stern lecture about respect for one’s elders and paying attention to details.