CHAPTER TWO
“Jessica, it’s Momma.”
That was the moment Jessie knew something was terribly wrong.
The last time her mother used her given name was when she called about her father’s death.
It was a sudden heart attack; a moment in time that broke her heart and trashed her hope in the future.
If Nick Mays was gone, she had no reason to stay anywhere near the great state of Georgia.
Life simply didn’t make sense without her daddy.
“Noel, I need to take this,” Jessie said, her hand clamped over the team’s shared satellite phone. Out here in the wilds, cell service was spotty at best. Most phone calls sounded like they came through cotton wool, but it was better than nothing.
Her boss waved her into the rear of the tent and closed the canvas flap to provide the illusion of privacy. She exhaled and squeezed the phone before talking to her mother.
“Momma? Is it Trevor?” Sweat pooled under her arms as she waited for her mother’s reply, her mind whirling with prayers of good news, despite her mother’s quivering voice.
She often feared a call like this would come. Even though she grew up surrounded by firefighters, and the risks they took, she’d operated under the misconception that the flames and smoke would never touch her family.
“No, sugar. Trevor will be fine.”
A whoosh of air escaped her as Jessie sagged against the folding chair in the makeshift office. The card table in front of her was piled high with paperwork and a laptop that was three years beyond its replacement date. Ah, the joys of working for a nonprofit in a third-world country.
“That’s good, I’m glad Trev’s okay.” Jessie wiped sweat off her brow, her eyes unfocused. “What happened?”
There was muffled conversation on the other line until her mother finally responded with, “There was a fire.”
The hairs on the back of Jessie’s neck rose the longer her mother spoke. “But Trev’s okay?”
“He has some smoke inhalation and bumps and bruises, but he’ll recover. Whitney is taking care of him.”
“Who’s Whitney?” Jessie asked, leaning forward. A fly buzzed around her face, but she couldn’t bother to swat at it. This phone call was distracting enough.
Her mother chuckled, the first happy sound she’d made this whole phone call. “She’s your brother’s new girlfriend, an absolute doll. You’re going to love her.”
“So you’re calling to tell me about Trevor’s love life?
” While not necessarily a boring topic, she was happy to learn her brother had moved on from his horrid ex-fiancée.
Yet it didn’t explain her mother’s urgent tone.
Noel had sprinted out of the management tent when the phone rang, gaze searching for her as she wrapped up a conversation with a colleague.
Her mother cleared her throat, and Jessie pinched the bridge of her nose. Something was clearly up, and she needed answers before she had a panic attack in the middle of the jungle. “Momma, what is going on?”
“It’s Malcolm.” Two words—maximum impact.
Jessie bolted to her feet, pacing back and forth around the cramped tent. In her haste to move, she kicked over an empty canteen. “What about Malcolm?” The question nearly choked her.
“He was there, sugar, at the scene. They got him out before the building collapsed, but he’s not in good shape.”
“What do you mean, not in good shape?” Her voice sounded funny to her own ears, like she was stuck in a tunnel.
“He’s in ICU. He’s got a couple broken bones, smoke inhalation, and a possible head injury. He is doing better; he was in a medically induced coma until the swelling went down in his skull.”
“Holy shit!” Jessie exclaimed, falling to her knees with a thud.
Her head tipped forward as she gasped for breath.
“Is he going to ...” She couldn’t force herself to utter the words, to bring the thought that Malcolm Smith wouldn’t be on this earth.
She’d lost so much with her father’s passing, she couldn’t lose Malcolm, too.
“They don’t know yet,” her mother said, voice dripping with fatigue. “I wanted you to know, in case ...” but she thankfully left that sentence unfinished.
“I’m coming home.”
“Sugar, that’s not why I’m calling. I only wanted you to know.” Daisy hesitated a moment and added, “I think he’d want you to know what happened.”
She believed her mother, knew she wouldn’t want Jessie to waste what little free cash she had flying across the globe on a whim. But this was Malcolm, and she couldn’t live with herself if she wasn’t by his side.
“I’m getting on the next flight out of here. I’ll text when I land. Can you pick me up in Atlanta?”
“Sugar, you know I will. But don’t jump to conclusions. I’ll keep you posted on Malcolm’s condition.”
Jessie sighed, her chin dipping down to her chest. “Momma, I’m coming home. I missed Daddy’s heart attack. I can’t live with myself if I don’t get to see Malcolm.”
Daisy was quiet, save for the din in the background. When she spoke again, her voice sounded normal, filled with determination and support. “You text me your flight details, and I’ll be there in Atlanta.”
“Love you, Momma.”
“Love you more, sugar.” Her mother disconnected first, leaving Jessie alone with her thoughts and a crushing sense of dread.
“Is everything all right, Jessie?” Noel asked, joining her in the tent.
It was hard to believe that a couple days ago they were discussing her future career plans, and now she was about to take leave before the project was complete.
“There’s a situation back home,” she said, running a hand down her face. Her eyes felt gritty, her mouth dry.
Noel raised an eyebrow. “It’s serious?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, not bothering with being casual. “My brother and friend were in a fire at work, and they’re both in the hospital.” Technically not the whole truth, but Jessie would worry about that later.
Back when her father passed, Noel had been very supportive.
He gave her extended bereavement and ensured she made it home to grieve and be with family.
The trouble now was, he didn’t seem as keen to offer her escape.
Gone were the damp eyes and sullen expression.
In its place were a set jaw and bored demeanor.
“That’s terrible. I hope they’ll recover soon.” Noel blinked, holding out his hand for the satellite phone.
The pair of them stared at each other, the only sounds that of the ruckus outside the tent. The team was working on building an irrigation system, and the hammering echoed through Jessie’s skull.
“I need to take some leave, please. After everything that happened with my dad, I need to be with family.” She pulled her bandana off, fluffing her hair with her fingers. Fidgeting had been a nervous habit from childhood, but in this instant she found it comforting.
Noel tucked the phone into the pocket of his cargo shorts, grimacing at the ground.
“Of course, you’re free to go home. But Jessie”—his words faltered as he collected himself—“I’m about to put your name in for one of those promotions.
If you leave now, before we can finish our work on these farms, I can’t promise it will help your application. ”
Jessie rocked back on her heels, her gut churning. “But my ...” She couldn’t find her words. The situation was impossible: the choice between seeing Malcolm and her brother and potentially moving forward in her career. How on earth was she supposed to choose?
Sighing, Noel rested his hands on his hips. In the dim light of the tent, he looked older, more worn out. Jessie could relate. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but we both know these opportunities don’t come along very often.”
“I know,” she said, her voice a pained whisper.
“But, sir, I won’t be able to live with myself if something happens.
I’ll have to take my chances.” Jessie squared her shoulders, meeting her supervisor’s gaze with her chin held high.
“I appreciate you putting in a good word, but I need to see my family.” She needed to see Malcolm more than her next breath . ..
Noel nodded, holding the tent flap open for her to exit. “Then I hope everything goes well back home. Keep me posted on your return.” He patted his pocket where the phone rested, and all Jessie could do was nod.
Sprinting to her tent, Jessie threw her meager belongings in her duffle.
She hadn’t even looked for flights yet, but she had to do something productive or she’d crumple to the ground.
It took her a couple hours, but she found a flight that left the following evening.
As she bid farewell to the crew, she said a prayer that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.
Yet even if she was, she knew Malcolm was worth it.
*
Pinegrove had the best fire department in Georgia, hands down.
Despite years of razzing each other and causing trouble on the job, when the rubber hit the road, this crew had each other’s backs.
That’s why when Malcolm finally opened his eyes in the ICU, he knew he wasn’t dead.
His brothers and sisters in arms wouldn’t allow it.
“Son, it’s Chief Warren.” The reassuring baritone of his boss eased a tiny bit of Malcolm’s nerves. He blinked under the fluorescent lighting, his throat scratchy and raw as steak tartare.
“Ch ...chief?” Malcolm leaned forward, coughing as his body shook with the effort of trying to say one word. His esophagus burned like he’d drunk battery acid, bile rising up. His stomach tensed as he gasped for air.
“Shhh,” Chief urged, resting a hand on his shoulder to keep him still. “Let me get you some water.” A moment later, a paper cup was thrust under Malcolm’s sight line. “Slow sips,” Chief instructed. “I pressed the button for one of the nurses.”