His Holiday Family. Margaret Daley

Sally. Do you want to go to Mom’s?” She threw a glance toward the blaze. “It doesn’t look like much will be left. You’ll need a place to stay. You’re welcome to stay with me and the boys.”

       “I appreciate the offer, but I can go to my mom’s. I need to stay and talk with some of my neighbors. See what happened. Then I’ll give Mom a call and have her come pick me up. She should be home. With Hurricane Naomi bearing down on us, I would have stayed at Mom’s anyway.” Sally looked south toward the water only a few blocks from the apartment building.

       Kathleen couldn’t think of that. The storm in the Gulf was still several days away from Hope, Mississippi, a quaint town of twenty thousand between Mobile and New Orleans. Her hometown of stately antebellum homes along the water thrived on tourism and the fishing industry. But anything could happen between now and the date the National Weather Service projected Naomi would come ashore in the vicinity of Hope.

       “I called your cell earlier when I arrived. All I could do was leave a message.”

       Sally dug into her jean pocket and withdrew her phone. She winced. “Sorry. I had the sound off.” Her cousin peered off to Kathleen’s side. “Will Kip and Jared be okay?”

       Kathleen followed the direction of Sally’s attention. Both of her sons’ gazes were glued to the commotion taking place at the Magnolia Street Apartments. Kip chewed his lower lip while her younger son took several feet forward. “I’d better get them away before Jared is in the middle of the chaos. I’ll talk to you later. If you need any help, please call.” She hugged her cousin, then made her way to her children, who were entranced by the plume of smoke bellowing into the sky being chased by yellow-orange flames.

       Her mother would watch them while she went to check on the firefighter. She owed him that much for what he did for her. Kathleen clasped first Jared’s hand, then Kip’s. “We need to go to Nana’s.”

       “But, Mom, I want to see what happens.” He had told her on a number of occasions he wanted to be a firefighter.

       “No. They don’t need any more people here watching.” Kathleen scanned the crowd that had gathered across the street from the apartments. “Besides, if Nana hears about this, she’ll get worried.”

       “Will she even be back from Biloxi yet?” Kip trudged toward her car parked several buildings away.

       “I hope so.” Because she needed to go to the hospital. The firefighter had to be all right.

       Will he make it?

       The question plagued Kathleen the whole way into the E.R. thirty minutes later after she’d left her mother’s house. Luckily her mother had returned from her weekly visit to her friend in a nursing home in Biloxi. Activity and tension met Kathleen as she came through the double doors. Ashley, an E.R. nurse who had befriended her when she’d begun working at Hope Memorial six weeks ago, hurried from behind the counter, saw her and came toward her.

       “Thank the Lord you are here. We need a hand. One of the nurses got sick and had to go home. Can you help me with a patient? I have two that need attention.” Ashley held up several vials of medicines and an IV bag.

       “Is one of them the firefighter from the fire on Magnolia Street?” She rushed behind the counter and disposed of her purse in a drawer.

       “Yes, he’s in room two.”

       “I’ll take him. I just came from the fire. My cousin lives in those apartments. I wanted to check to see how he is.”

       “I think he’ll be all right. I haven’t had much time with him yet. Besides him, there was a wreck on Interstate 10. Three injuries. It’s been hopping around here. I don’t want to even think about how it will be if Naomi hits here.”

       Neither did Kathleen. As a child, she had gone through two minor hurricanes that had gotten her out of school for a couple of days but, other than that, hadn’t changed her life much at all. But Naomi was gathering speed and her winds were increasing.

       Ashley thrust an IV bag into her hands. “He needs this.”

       Her breath caught in her throat, Kathleen took it and started for the second door on the left. “What are his injuries?”

       Ashley slanted a look at Kathleen and said, “I think several broken or cracked ribs, possible internal bleeding and smoke inhalation,” then entered E.R. unit number four.

       When Kathleen went into room two, she stared at the firefighter lying on the bed. His damp black hair was plastered against his head, and there were dark smudges on his tan face. His steely gray eyes locked on her and seized her full attention.

       “Pete. What about Pete? Did my partner get out okay?” His raspy voice weakened with each word he uttered.

       “Yes, there were no other injuries at the fire.” Guilt swamped her at seeing the man she’d sent into the fire hurting, pain reflected in his gaze. The feeling was familiar. Hadn’t her husband, Derek, blamed her for causing his stress that led to his heart attack? Shaking away the memory, Kathleen hung an IV drip on the pole and hooked up his line.

       “I’ll be fine.” The firefighter struggled to sit up. His eyes clouded, his face twisting into a frown.

       Kathleen rushed forward to restrain the patient’s movements. “You need to lie down.”

       “You’re the lady with the boys. Ruth’s daughter.” He swung one leg to the floor.

       “Yes.” Kathleen touched his left arm to stop him.

       He flinched but proceeded with putting his other leg on the tiles, pushing himself upright. With a moan, he sank to the floor. Kathleen caught him as he went down and lessened his impact with the tiles. Kneeling next to him, she supported his back with her arm.

       His head rested against the bottom of the bed. He fixed his weary gaze on her, pain dominating it. “I guess I’m not all right.”

       “Let’s get you back in bed. The doctor will be here soon.”

       “Yeah, sure.” His eyes fluttered and closed.

       With her attention fastened on his face, Kathleen settled him on the floor and pressed the emergency call button.

       “I thought you left here a couple of hours ago,” Mildred Wyman, the floor supervisor, said as Kathleen exited the elevator and walked toward the nurses’ station.

       “I did, but there was a fire at the Magnolia Street Apartments where my cousin lives.” She filled her in on the details. “When I came back to the hospital, Ashley recruited me to help until another nurse was able to come in. She just arrived so I wanted to see if Gideon O’Brien was settled into his room before I go home for sure this time.”

       “He’s in room 345. He was asleep a little while ago.”

       “I’ll peek in. See if he’s up. If he needs anything.”

       Kathleen strolled toward the last room on the west wing’s third floor. The memory of the look on Gideon O’Brien’s face wouldn’t leave her thoughts. Clearly he’d been in pain but he tried to deny the seriousness of his injuries. If only she had known that Sally had taken the boys to the park, Gideon O’Brien wouldn’t be hurt.

       She rapped on the door. When she didn’t hear anything, she inched it open to see if he was still asleep. The dimly lit room beckoned her. She stepped inside and found him, lying on his bed, his head lolled to the side, his eyes closed.

       With the black smudges cleaned from his face, his features fit together into a pleasing picture. High cheekbones, the beginnings of a dark stubble, strong jaw. His features drew her forward until she stood by his side, watching him sleep. She could remember seeing him a couple of times jogging past her mother’s house when she had visited. When she’d told her mother who the injured firefighter was, her mom had said Gideon O’Brien had moved in down the street several years before.

       “He sure is a handsome