Angel's Rest(17)

The boys cried out as they all went down in a heap. Flaming rubble rained down around them. Something hard and hot struck Gabe’s back just as a scream alerted him to the fact that one boy’s fleece jacket had caught fire. Gabe frantically went to work smothering the flames, and soon other arms reached out to help. As panicked voices rose all around him, he climbed slowly to his feet, breathing heavily.

Someone shuffled the kids off for Nic to check over, but Gabe ignored the instruction that he should do the same. Instead he went back to the fire hose, back to work. The minor burns on his hands didn’t rate a break, and he could tell that they were gaining ground on the fire.

All in all, the incident with the boys didn’t last a minute. The fire itself hadn’t burned for more than twenty. The volunteer fire department had it whipped in half an hour. When the lumberyard owner ordered the hoses shut off, a huge cheer went up from the crowd. Everyone in town must be here.

Gabe stepped away from the fire hose. The townspeople surged forward to inspect damage to a home now lit only by moonlight. Gabe remained stationary, and as a result, he soon stood at the periphery of the crowd. Scraps of conversation drifted over him.

“How did it start?”

“Who was the fella who knocked the boys to safety?”

“She bought the place lock, stock, and barrel. I heard it’s still packed full of Cavanaugh stuff. Hope it wasn’t all destroyed.”

“Well, Celeste can’t stay here. Wonder who will take her home?”

“Looks like the damage is confined to the north addition. Lucky break there.”

“Who’s that man who came with Dr. Nic? I’ve never seen him before.”

“You know, Hank, we dodged a disaster by the skin of our teeth. We have to get the pump truck fixed. Got it running tonight on a lick and a prayer. Hell, the fire could have jumped the creek and burned down the whole damn town!”

Gabe took another step back. Then another. When he saw a trio of matrons eyeing him with questions in their eyes, he pivoted on his heel and headed for the Jeep. Halfway there he stopped abruptly. He’d brought Nic here. He couldn’t up and leave without her. His mother—God rest her soul—had branded that into his bones.

Reluctantly he went to find her. A triage of sorts had been set up along the bank of Angel Creek with lanterns and flashlights and car headlights illuminating the space. Nic and a handful of other women were there tending to a variety of minor injuries.

As he approached, an older woman eyed him with interest. “You must be Gabe Callahan,” she said. “I’m Celeste Blessing. Nicole tells me that Archibald has decided you are his owner.”

Who? Oh. The dog. Oh, no. No. No. No. “I’m just visiting the area, Ms. Blessing. I’m a guest in someone else’s home. I can’t have a dog.”

“Hmm …” She offered him a beatific smile before turning to Nic. “Now that things have calmed down a bit, I need to tell you why the accident happened. I’m afraid I knocked over the candle because I was trying to run after the puppy that a fox chased into my root cellar. He was hurt, Nic, and I’m sure he’s still down there. We need to go get him.”

A pretty brunette about Nic’s age shook her head. “You can’t go down there tonight.”

“It’s a puppy,” Celeste repeated. “I hope he doesn’t die.”

The brunette hit her forehead with her palm and groaned. “Now you’ve done it. Nic won’t hesitate to risk life and limb for a puppy.”

Celeste added, “They told me the basement wasn’t affected by the fire, so the root cellar should be fine, too.”

Nic stared toward the house. “I can make a quick—”

“I’ll do it,” Gabe announced. “Somebody give me a flashlight.”

“Thanks, Gabe.” She darted a smile. “Two sets of hands are better than one when working with wild animals, and I suspect she saw a coyote rather than a puppy. Let me grab my bag.”

He nodded, accepted the offered flashlight, and headed for the root cellar entrance he’d noticed while fighting the fire. She caught up with him halfway to the house. “I’ll go in first. If the animal needs sedation, you’ll need to stay out of my way.”

Gabe respected her professional abilities, but no way he’d let a woman take point position. At the root cellar door he met her gaze and said, “Dr. Sullivan? Sit. Stay.”

She narrowed her eyes and said, “Careful, Callahan. I bite.”