Chapter 4
Grace
“Guy had spent the night with a friend and didn’t even know his mom had died until the next morning when he walked past the plant where she worked and saw the destruction and the fire crew still cleaning up.
Three other people died that night. He decided right then and there what he wanted to do with his life.
“His uncle was a good man. He went and got Guy and moved him here to Kennedy. Later he helped him get into the fire department. Uncle Ben passed from cancer a couple years after we married. Then it was just the two of us.” I stare into my cup lost in my thoughts.
“How long were you married?” Caleb asks.
“Almost ten years. We were best friends and could talk about anything. We both loved art. He was a talented painter. His...dedication to saving lives required he give back first, so his painting was his recreation and release.
“We both wanted a big family, but that wasn’t meant to be. We found out after years of trying that he was sterile from mumps he had in puberty. We were talking about adoption when he...”
Oh god, I can’t do this. I can’t do any of this anymore. I’m so damn tired. I push from my chair. “I— I need to go to bed. If you turn the lock when you leave, it will catch. Thank you for all you you’ve done. I—”
“I’m not leaving, Grace. I talked with Jaxon and the sheriff. We don’t think you should be alone tonight. I can sleep on the couch unless that makes you uncomfortable. If it does, I’ll be out front in my truck.”
“You don’t have to stay. It’s not necc...” I don’t want to be alone tonight. “Thank you. I appreciate you staying. I’ll make up the spare bed for you before I shower. And I’ll leave you a towel on the rack.”
“Then I’ll wash the dishes.” He smiles.
A few minutes later, he props his forearms on the door frame watching me smooth the quilt on the guest bed.
“You didn’t have to do that. I’d have been fine on the couch, but I do appreciate it. Before you go to bed, would you give me a key to the front door? I want to go out and check around a bit to make sure everything is secure.”
Going to my room, I open my dresser and pull-out Guy’s set of keys. Handing them to Caleb, I show him which key fits what door. “I’ll shower and then it’s all yours. I—thank you for staying. I guess I am a little jittery.”
Reaching out, he brushes my hair behind my ear.
The soft swipe of his fingers along my hairline sends a ripple of warmth over me.
I lift my head and our gazes meet. There is a gentle understanding in his eyes.
As if he knows how hard I’m trying to keep it all together.
His soft smile is warm and understanding.
“I’m here, Grace. I’ll watch over you. Get a good night’s sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”
He’s not back when I get out of the shower, so I go to bed, leaving my door cracked open a little. I don’t sleep until I hear his voice softly by my door. “I’m back, Grace. Everything is fine and the house is locked up. You can sleep now. I’ll keep you safe.”
I do feel safe, and something else I refuse to name. Sleep comes quickly.
Followed by the nightmare....
Guy, Guy, where are you? I can’t see you through the smoke. I need you. Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me...
Shh, sweetheart, you’re going to be okay now. You aren’t alone anymore... I loved you....
“Shh, babe. You’re okay. It’s just a nightmare. You aren’t alone. I’m here. You’re safe. Open your eyes and look at me. It’s Caleb. Look at me, babe. I’m here.”
When I open my eyes, the faint glow from my night light is just enough to recognize Caleb. “I—”
“It’s okay, babe. You aren’t alone. I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
“Stay.”
“I will. As long as you need. I’ll stay.”
Shifting, he slides onto the bed, lying so he can settle my head on his T-shirt covered shoulder. I place my palm over his heart and hitch my leg over his thighs.
“Rest, babe. You’re safe.”
I wake alone with the smell of coffee filling the air. Coffee? Guy liked tea.
Caleb. I glance at the second pillow and see the indent from where he lay. It wasn’t a dream. He did hold me all night.
Feeling more rested than I have in months. I glance at the clock. It’s only five-thirty. I slip from bed and pull on my robe. Crossing to the partially closed door I glance out.
Caleb is lying on his back on the floor in only a pair of shorts. His hands are under his buttocks, his face is strained and he’s kicking his raised legs, counting softly:
“1. 2. 3, 195. 1. 2. 3, 196. 1. 2. 3, 197.... 1. 2. 3, 200.”
Expelling, he relaxes on the hard floor, eyes closed, and just breathes.
“How did you get the burns on your calf and arm?” I ask.
He vaults to his feet and grabs for his shirt.
“Don’t. I want to see. I want to understand. Did it happen at a fire you were working with the hotshots?”
Ignoring my request, he pulls on his shirt and the sleep pants he wore last night.
“No. It was a war zone. There was an explosion and fire. One of my teammates was down. I was able to get to him and carry him out. I got injured a little in the process. They’re ugly, but they don’t stop me from being able to do my job. I—I’m sorry you saw them.”
“They didn’t let me see Guy. I guess there really wasn’t much to see. I struggled with that. Maybe they were right. It was better I remember him the way I saw him last.”
“Burns are the hardest for victims and survivors to deal with. They were right to keep you away.”
“How is your friend doing?”
His face goes blank and he heads to the counter. “You want coffee or tea?”
“Coffee.” I follow him to the kitchen, and it strikes me that’s he’s already comfortable making his way around the house. He’s one of those people with the confidence to own whatever space he’s in.
The opposite of me. Half the time I’m unsure in my own home. Should I move this? Buy this? Plant the pretty flower? Go to dinner when a friend asks?’
I glance around. I’ve owned this house for over ten years and still it looks the same as when my grandparents first brought me here as a teen.
He still hasn’t answered my question. His shoulders are tense, his movements controlled. “You can talk to me. What happened, Caleb?”
“He lost part of a leg and arm. The whole side of his body was badly scared.”
“But he was alive.”
“He-ah-didn’t see it that way. He was upset that I didn’t just let him die, instead of forcing him to be a damn cripple.”
‘How is he now?”
“Have no idea. He told me to leave. He never wanted to see or talk to me again. He... Gleason was my best friend. Even knowing how he felt, what he would have preferred, I... I couldn’t have done anything different.”
“Oh Caleb.” I round the table and wrap my arms around him from behind. “I’m not a firefighter or a soldier, but I’ve learned how precious life is. I would have taken Guy anyway I could. You did the right thing. You did what you had to do for your own conscious. How long has it been?”
“Four years.”
“You should try to reach out to him. You were both dealing with a lot at the time. You had your own injuries. You’ve adapted and moved on. He may have changed his mind with time, too. The pain and trauma were affecting his thinking at that time.
“After I lost Guy, I started volunteering at the veteran’s treatment center that Maura started. I’ve seen some of the most despondent veterans heal and have hope again. With time.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Instinctively, I give him another side hug. “How about pancakes with the coffee?”
“Sounds great. I’ll help.”
I reach in the pantry for the mix and syrup. Turning back to him, I pause. “Caleb, you don’t have to hide your scars from me. I’m stronger than you think. I’ve learned to take the blows. I always get back up.”