Dread pulsed through his veins as every nerve ending went on high alert. The fire trucks were in front of his grandmother’s house.
He broke into a run. One block. Adrenaline urged him forward. Two blocks.
“Oh, no.” Heart sinking, he came to a halt.
Across the street, smoke rolled from the back of Granger House Inn. Flames danced from the kitchen’s side window, lapping at the sea foam paint, threatening the historic dentil moldings and clapboard siding.
One of the firemen barked orders, orchestrating the chaos, while others flanked the corner of the house, their hoses aimed inside.
But where was Carly?
“Andrew!”
He jerked his head in the direction of his brother Jude’s voice.
A police officer for the city of Ouray, his younger brother vehemently motioned him across the street.
Andrew hurried toward him.
“We need you to move your truck out of Grandma’s drive.”
“Sure thing.” He tugged the keys from his pocket and threw himself into the vehicle, the smell of smoke nearly choking him.
As he backed into the street, he spotted Carly’s SUV in front of her house. Where was she? Was she safe? Could she have been trapped inside? Oh, God. Please, no.
He quickly parked on the next block before rushing back.
People had gathered on the opposite side of the street, watching the horror unfold.
He scanned the faces, looking for Carly. She had to be here somewhere.
He again eyed the flames, feeling helpless. Sweat beaded his brow as panic surged through his body. God, she has to be all right.
Spotting Jude in the middle of the street, Andrew jogged toward him. “Where’s Carly?”
“In the ambulance.”
Ambulance?
He ran past the cluster of onlookers to the emergency vehicle parked a few houses down.
Drawing closer, he finally saw her, standing near the rear bumper, attempting to pull off the oxygen mask while the female EMT fought to keep it over her face.
Andrew had never been so glad to see someone.
He slowed his pace as Carly ultimately ripped the mask from her face. “I don’t need this.” She coughed. “That’s my house.” More coughing. “I need to—”
Andrew stepped in front of her then. “You need to let the firemen do their job. And you need to get some good air into your lungs.” He pulled the mask from her hand, noting the resignation in her blue eyes as she looked up at him, her bottom lip quivering. “At least for a little bit.”
The fact that she didn’t resist when he slipped the respirator over her head still surprised him. But when he reached for her hand, she quickly yanked it away.
He groaned. Stupid move. Who was he to try to comfort her?
Only then did he notice the way she cradled her hand, holding it against her torso. The redness. She’d been burned.
“I think we’d better get you into the ambulance.”
She shook her head. “I want to see what’s happening.” The words were muffled through the plastic mask.
Andrew eyed the male and female EMTs. “Can she sit here while you look her over?” He gestured to the rear bumper.
They nodded.
He looked at Carly. “You promise to let them do what they need to do?”
A cough-filled moment ticked by before she finally agreed.
The female EMT checked Carly’s vital signs as the man went to work on her hand. All the while, Carly’s tearful gaze remained riveted on Granger House.
Andrew could only imagine the flurry of emotions threatening to swallow her at any moment. The uncertainty, the grief... He wished he could make it all go away.
He sat down beside her as the man wrapped her hand in gauze. “What happened there?” Andrew pointed to the injury.
“I had gone to the bank.” She coughed. “When I got back—” looking up, she blinked repeatedly “—I opened the back door and the...flames were everywhere.”
His eyes momentarily drifted closed. Thank God she was okay.
Unable to stop himself, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Despite wearing a jacket, her whole body shook.
Returning his attention to the house, he saw that the smoke had started to turn white, a sign that the fire was almost out. However, there was no telling what kind of damage it had left in its wake. Granger House was more than Carly’s home. It was her livelihood. Without it—
As if she’d read his thoughts, Carly lifted her head, her eyes swimming with tears. “What am I going to do?”
How could this have happened?
Carly stood beside the towering conifer in front of Livie’s house a couple of hours later, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. Staring at Granger House, she felt as though she were fighting to keep herself together. In only a short time, the fire had ravaged her majestic old home, leaving it scarred and disheveled.
At the back of the house, where the kitchen was located, soot trailed up the once beautiful sea foam green siding, leaving it blackened and ugly. Windows were missing and, as she strained to look inside, all she could see was black.
She breathed in deeply through her nose, trying to quell the nausea that refused to go away. If only they would let her go inside. Perhaps she’d find out things weren’t as bad as they seemed.
The loud rumble of the fire engine filled her ears as firemen traipsed back and forth, returning hoses to their trucks. Carly eyed her gauze-wrapped hand. At least it didn’t sting anymore. The smell of smoke would be forever seared into her memory, though. Not to mention the heat of those flames.
Tilting her head toward the cloud-dotted sky, she blinked back tears. Save for a few years, she’d spent her entire life at Granger House. It was more than her home...it was family. An integral part of her heritage. Now she could only pray that the whole thing wasn’t a loss. Even insurance couldn’t replace that.
But what if it was a total loss? What would she do then?
“Can I get you anything? Are you warm enough?” The feel of Andrew’s hand against the small of her back was a comfort she hadn’t known in a long time. From the moment he appeared on the scene, Andrew had yet to leave her side. For once, she was grateful for his take-charge attitude. His presence was an unlikely calm in the midst of her storm.
“No, thank y—”
“Oh, my!”
Carly turned to see Rose Daniels, a family friend and owner of The Alps motel. Hand pressed against her chest, the white-haired woman studied the carnage. Beside her, Hillary Ward-Thompson, a former resident who’d recently returned, appeared every bit as aghast.
Carly knew exactly how they felt.
The dismay in Rose’s blue eyes morphed into compassion as she shifted her attention to Carly, her arms held wide. “I came as soon as I heard.” She hugged Carly with a strength that belied her eighty years. “You poor dear. Are you all right?”
She nodded against the older woman’s shoulder, tears threatening again, but she refused to give