Men In Uniform: Burning For The Fireman. Barbara McMahon

“Oh, sweet thing, we almost died.” Tears pricked her eyes. She caught a sob. How could the cottage catch fire? And why had there been no alarms to alert them of the danger before it was too late? The first she’d known of the emergency was when she heard Cristiano calling her name. Smoke had filled their room and she’d almost passed out trying to get out of bed and to safety. Breathing had been almost impossible.

      The next thing she remembered was stumbling into the yard with Cristiano while Dante cried. Thank God he was safe. They both were.

      Her head pounded and her eyes watered again. Coughing, she felt she could not draw a full breath. A weight seemed pressed against her chest.

      “We’ll have you to hospital in just a short while. They’ll bathe your eyes and continue the oxygen until morning,” the EMT said, handing her a tissue to wipe the tears.

      The baby had settled down, looked as if he was going back to sleep. She kissed his cheek, so grateful. Mariella wished she could drop off as he did and forget everything—if only for a few hours. Who would think such things happened while on holiday?

      Once they reached the hospital, nurses swarmed around the ambulance. One gently took the baby, promising to take good care of him as she whisked him away to be seen by a doctor. Another helped Mariella into a wheelchair and pushed her quickly into the ER. It was quiet except for the two of them. In a short while a doctor had cleaned the cuts and stitched up the one on her left foot.

      “Where’s my baby?” she asked.

      “He’s in Pediatrics, on oxygen. A pediatrician has checked him out. Except for smoke inhalation, he seems fine. You can see him soon.”

      Mariella nodded. She already missed him. She needed to see again that he was all right. But patience was called for. For the first time she had a moment to think. Cristiano had saved them. She had no idea how he’d happened to be there, but she thanked God he had been. He was a hero. Without his intervention, she and Dante could have died.

      After she’d been seen by the doctor, she was conveyed to a semi-private room by way of the pediatric ward. Once satisfied Dante was safely asleep, she allowed herself to be taken to her own room where she insisted she could bathe herself. After a quick shower, she gladly lay down, with oxygen, and tried to sleep—but the horrors of the night haunted her. What if Cristiano hadn’t arrived? She and the baby could have been burned to death. What had caused the fire? What had brought Cristiano there at exactly the right time? It was much, much later before she fell into a fitful sleep.

      Mariella stood by the window of the hospital room in the late morning gazing at the beauty before her. The gardens of the hospital gave way to the view of rolling hills that gave this area so much of its beauty. She knew the lake lay beyond her view. From her vantage point she saw only the edge of a bustling town and the distant serene countryside. The village was hidden behind a fold in the hills and no trace of smoke marred the crystal-blue sky.

      Everyone went along with their daily lives. She had lost clothes and her laptop. And her photo of Ariana. Dante had only the sleeper he wore when they were rescued. Her livelihood depended on connections with her clients. She had to get another computer soon. She had backup files at home, so wouldn’t totally start from the beginning. But this would certainly put a crimp in things.

      The few hours’ sleep she’d managed made her feel refreshed. She needed her wits about her to get back on track. Maybe she should consider returning to Rome immediately. But she wasn’t sure when she’d have another break in her workload to look for Dante’s father. If she didn’t do some checking now, people would forget. Maybe they already had. But she owed it to the baby to find out anything she was able to.

      Even with oxygen she still used she felt as though her lungs were on fire and it was difficult to breathe. Still, things were improving—she could go several minutes without the racking coughs.

      She was declared healthy enough to be discharged, with a follow-up visit scheduled for a few days later.

      She hurried to the pediatric ward, limping slightly because of the stitches in her left foot. She slowed in surprise to see Cristiano staring at the babies in the nursery.

      “Cristiano?”

      He turned and smiled when he saw her, giving her a critical look. “How are you today?”

      She coughed, then smiled as she came up to him. “Much better. Doctor said I can go home and come back in a few days for another checkup.” She looked into the nursery. “Is Dante in there?”

      “No, these are newborns. Look how small they are.”

      She noticed the four babies and smiled. “Dante was tiny like that when he was born. Now look how big he’s grown.”

      He turned and studied her again. “You really okay or are you pushing things?”

      “I really will be fine. Let’s find Dante.”

      Mariella was wearing clothes lent to her by a nurse on the night shift. Her feet didn’t bother her much. The cut on the left gave her a bit of a limp, but the doctor had assured her it would heal quickly with no lasting damage. The scruffy slippers she wore needed to be replaced, too. Her mind spun with all she needed to do.

      Cristiano led the way into the pediatric ward and in seconds they were in the room with the baby.

      “The pediatrician made his round a short time ago,” the nurse said. “Your baby’s ready to go.” She smiled at both of them. “He’s a darling child. So attentive. But I know he misses his parents.”

      In a moment Mariella stood by the crib. Dante looked up at Mariella and gave her a wide grin. Lifting his arms, he came up easily when she reached out to pick him up. She held him closely, relishing the warmth of him in her arms. Her heart swelled with love. For a moment she almost broke into tears thinking about how close she had come to losing him. He was her precious son. The last link to her dearest friend. She gave silent thanks for his safety.

      She turned to Cristiano. “You did a wondrous thing saving us. How could I ever thank you?” Mariella took a deep breath, taking in the sweet scent of baby powder and baby shampoo.

      “Just get well fast. I’m glad I was there.”

      “And knew what to do. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened.”

      “Don’t. Let’s get out of here,” he said. “I’m not a big fan of hospitals.”

      As soon as they stepped outside he steered her to the black sports car parked nearby. Eying it dubiously, she asked, “Do you have a car seat for Dante?”

      “The hospital is lending us one until you buy another. Then we’ll bring it back. First thing, you need some clothes. Not that the outfit you’re wearing doesn’t have a certain cachet,” he said, opening the door and pushing the passenger seat forward to access the baby’s seat.

      She laughed, then broke into coughing again. “Thanks. Nothing boosts a woman’s ego more than compliments—” She stopped abruptly, before saying from a man she cares about. She had only just met the man. Taking the opportunity to end the statement while she put Dante into the carrier, she vowed to watch what she said in future.

      Dante was oblivious to any tension. He babbled away in baby language and patted Mariella’s face. Tangling his fingers in Mariella’s long hair as she leaned over fastening the straps, he pulled.

      “Ouch. You have to stop doing that,” Mariella said with a laugh, grabbing his little hand and kissing the fingers. “That hurts!”

      “He seems in fine form,” Cristiano said.

      Mariella smiled. “Seems as if no harm done. He’s not even coughing.”

      Once she got Dante situated, she turned to Cristiano, so glad he’d come for her. “I have a million things to do. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

      “Who else?”

      She bit her lip and nodded. Who else