Flaming Desire - Part 4 (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) Read online

  Before I knew it, I toppled ass over teakettle and found myself facing the sky again, jolted into midair by something. I landed on my back, the backpack cushioning the blow, but it was still strong enough to knock the wind out of me. I gasped for breath.

  I caught a brief glimpse of Matt on the trail above me, and then once again he was gone, replaced by scattered images of dirt, rocks, a branch… and then everything exploded in a white hot flash of pain as my head slammed into a rock. Damn, that hurt! I don’t think I made a sound, but I couldn’t be sure as I continued to tumble down the incline. I felt a sharp pain just above my knee, heard a crack, but wasn’t sure if it was caused by a breaking bone or that I had simply landed on a dry branch. My chest slammed into a rock, and then I was on my side, sliding. My palms grasped the dirt under me, trying to dig in, trying to halt my descent, all to no avail.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, I stopped rolling. A cloud of dirt and dust flew around me and then settled. I felt dazed and disoriented. Every fiber in my body screamed in pain. I felt cold, and as I looked at my hand, lying next to my face, I saw that it trembled. I heard a roaring in my ears.

  Blackness covered around the edges of my consciousness. No. This couldn’t be happening. We had to get out of the canyon. The fire… I heard a distant voice… Matt… and then nothing more.

  *

  “Jesse!”

  The sound of a voice seemed to come from far away, like it was traveling through a tunnel, faintly, like a distant echo. I didn’t want to go toward the sound. Where there was sound, there was pain. Here, in the blackness, I felt nothing. Still, the voice was insistent.

  “Jesse! Open your eyes!”

  Dammit. I recognized Matt’s voice. He wasn’t going to leave me alone, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to remain in the darkness. His voice was insistent, pulling me out of my haze. As the edges of blackness evaporated from around my consciousness, I felt pain. Mind-numbing, body-stiffening pain. At first, that pain seemed to be everywhere, radiating from every part of my body, but then it seemed to concentrate in my knee, my chest, and my head.

  I tried to talk, took a breath to speak and gasped. I held my breath at the shaft of pain that stabbed through my lungs. Don’t move, I scolded myself. Hold still.

  My eyes shot open. I saw a blurry figure leaning over me. Matt. Putting something on my forehead. I felt pressure on my chest too, just below my left breast. I stared at him for several moments until finally, the blurry edges disappeared and I was able to focus. I felt a nearly overwhelming urge to go to sleep.

  “Oh my God, Jesse. Keep your eyes open, and keep looking at me.”

  His voice was firm, insistent. How could I refuse? I stared up at him, internally assessing my injuries and watching his expression at the same time. His face was as white as a sheet. Though his expression was blank, I saw his gaze darting from my head to my chest, then back down to my legs. What the hell? How badly was I injured?

  Looking up into the sky, I saw the rim of the canyon walls. I saw smoke. Why was I down here? What was happening? Then I remembered everything. We had been making our way back down Elder Box Canyon after checking the last of the campsites. The fire had been gaining, heading in our direction. Then, I had slipped and toppled over the edge. Just like Sam.

  I felt my heart sink, felt a cold sensation rush through me. I felt numb and tingly all at the same time. I tried to speak again but all that issued from my throat was a groan. I couldn’t take a deep breath. Every time I tried, pain shot through my chest.

  “Take shallow breaths, Jesse,” Matt urged. “I think you’ve got a couple of broken ribs, but I don’t know if they’ve punctured a lung or not.”

  While I assessed that comment, he continued. “You’ve got a deep gash on the side of your skull, just above and behind your right ear. It’s bleeding profusely, but I just about got that stopped.”

  I listened to his voice calmly listing my injuries, a feeling of dread rising up inside me like a geyser. I knew I shouldn’t panic because that would only make my situation worse. I focused on his voice, the deep timbre of it, the comfort I gained from it, and the feeling of his hands taking care of me. I looked up at him and lifted an eyebrow because I knew. I knew there was something more.

  “Last but not least, Jesse, you’ve managed to break your femur, looks like just above the knee joint.”

  Oh my God. Oh my God.

  What were we going to do? There was no way I was walking out of here. I didn’t think that Matt would be able to carry me either. I looked up at him, my eyes filling with tears. I managed to move my right hand, surprised that it didn’t hurt. Then I lifted my arm. No pain. At least that wasn’t broken. I grabbed onto the sleeve of his arm, tightly, fiercely, forcing him to look at me.

  “Go,” I managed, and then began to cough. The coughing sent sharp, mind-numbing, teeth-shattering pain through my body. I shuddered, tried not to cry out, and gritted my teeth until it passed.

  Matt worked quickly. His backpack was on the dirt beside me. I suppose I should be lucky. Chances were that my backpack probably saved me from a broken neck, a broken back, or even shattered hips. His backpack was open, a first aid kit we all carried with us in our backpacks also open. To my surprise, I saw my backpack next to his. My first aid kit had also been removed from it. Not too many supplies, but maybe enough to do what he needed to do. He finished wrapping the bandage around my head, and then gently placed his palm against my cheek.

  “You’re going to be just fine, Jesse,” he said.

  He spoke to me like he had spoken to the accident victims on the freeway, which seemed like a lifetime ago. Comforting. I wondered if he was lying. Like I had lied to patients who came into the ER. Patients I knew weren’t going to make it. But I told them they would. Brought them a sense of comfort, of hope.

  “I’ve got your head bandaged. I’m going to wrap your ribs, or at least try and stabilize your rib cage, and then I’ll worry about your leg.”

  I merely nodded, too weak and filled with pain to respond. Every once in a while, Matt checked the pulse in my neck with his fingertips. So warm.

  I felt horrified that this was happening. We had to get out of here. “Can you… can you carry…..” that’s as far as I got before another fit of coughing took over me. It sent wracking pain through my body. I felt liquid bubbling in my throat, like I had swallowed a drink wrong.

  Matt quickly rolled me over to my good side, making sure that I wouldn’t aspirate anything. Like blood. Shit. I knew I was bleeding somewhere inside; I tasted the tinny, metallic blood in my mouth. Not a lot of it, but enough to make me grimace and try to spit it out.

  Shit.

  What were we going to do? He had to go. Maybe I would be safe from the fire down here. Maybe he could find a place to put me, cover me with my protective fire shelter, and then—

  “I know what you’re thinking, Jesse, and you can just forget it,” he said.

  He quickly unrolled several of the gauze bandage roles that he had pulled from each of our first aid kits. Very carefully, he sat me up, leaning my back up against his abdomen and between his legs as he worked from behind. It wasn’t the most conducive way to bandage and strap ribs, but it was the best he could do at the moment. Actually, it felt a little better once he had my ribs tightly wrapped. Sitting in the half-reclining position made it a little easier to breathe. I gave him a thumbs up.

  He let me lean against his chest, cradled in the V of his legs. When I turned my head, I heard his heartbeat in his chest. I wanted to wrap him in my embrace. When he spoke, I heard the deep rumble of his voice deep in his chest.

  “Jesse, I already tried, but was not able to get a transmission signal for the walkie from here. I tried to send a transmission from the bottom of the canyon… I’m not sure if they received it or not.”

  He glanced down at me, his eyes passing over my blood and dirt smeared face. Once again, he caressed my cheek. I leaned into it.

  “We’re going to have to
find some shelter here, deploy our shelters. I can’t carry you down over my shoulder without making your injuries worse. I don’t have to tell you that you’ve got some internal bleeding, whether it’s from the lungs or not, I can’t tell.”

  I shook my head. If I had a punctured lung, it was minor at this point. I understood what he was saying. Thrusting and carrying me over his shoulder in a jarring hike back down to the entrance of the box canyon could exacerbate my injuries. I understood that.

  At the same time, what were our chances if we stayed put? If we got trapped in this box canyon….

  I didn’t want him here, hovering over me like a sitting duck, just waiting for the fire to overrun us. If the fire swept down the narrow valley, consuming the campsites as it went, it could reach us in a very short time. I grabbed once again at his sleeve. Once again, he sensed what I was thinking.

  “We’re just going to have to take our chances in the box canyon. No way around it.”

  I frowned, grimacing at the pain that even that little movement caused. I reached for his hand, grabbed it, and squeeze tightly. “No,” I ground out. “You… go.”

  He shook his head, smiling gently down at me. I gave him as fierce of an evil eye as I could muster, trying to convey my insistence that he get himself the hell out of here.

  “Hang tight,” he said. “I’m going to see if I can find us a crevice or niche in the wall or something, a cave maybe if we’re lucky. Between that and the fire shelters, we might just be able to survive if the fire manages to sweep down the valley.”

  Very carefully and slowly, he shifted his position and stood, his legs still holding me in a half reclined position. He placed his arms under my armpits, and very slowly and carefully dragged me to a cluster of nearby rocks. He placed his backpack behind my back and one of the rocks, offering me some cushioning. It was a lot easier to breathe sitting halfway up like this, and I nodded and gave him another thumbs up.

  “Don’t move,” he said, joking. “I’m going to explore for a few minutes, see what I can find.”

  I watched Matt until I couldn’t see him anymore as he rounded the bend. We were surrounded by rocks, trees, and the steep rock walls on each side of the canyon. I tried not to let panic overtake me.

  I tried not to think of a worst-case scenario, but planning for a worst-case scenario would help our chances of survival, wouldn’t it? As Matt searched on his own, I also carefully looked around for anything that might help us. I tried to keep my eyes busy, my thoughts focused on survival even though pain relentlessly pounded my body.

  I glanced down at my leg and didn’t see any tears in the pant leg, nor bones jutting up through the fabric, so was thankful that it least it appeared to be a simple, closed fracture. I had no way of knowing whether the fracture was complete or incomplete, and I guess it didn’t really matter considering the position I was in. I couldn’t walk regardless.

  I tried to focus on taking short, shallow breaths, but every once in a while I couldn’t resist the urge to try to take a deeper breath. When I did, I coughed. Tasted blood in my mouth. Grimacing, I spat it out. Shit.

  Of all the stupid things to happen, and just when we had finished clearing the last of the campsites. Why hadn’t I watched where I was placing my feet more carefully?

  This was an untenable situation. We were in dire straits and I knew it. I should be up on the line right now with Matt, fighting this God-awful fire. Instead, I was laying on the bottom of the canyon floor, badly injured, counting on Matt to save us both.

  Shit.

  The sky briefly darkened and I glanced upward. Black, roiling smoke. Lots of it. I couldn’t see behind me up the canyon, but smoke that heavy, so thick, so filled with ash and glowing embers could only mean one thing. The fire was close and getting closer. It seemed like forever before I heard Matt returning, jogging quickly from upslope behind me toward the cluster of rocks where he had placed me.

  “Fire’s at the upper end of the canyon, Jesse, at that meadow. It’s moving fast.”

  I felt my eyes widen with fear. “Find… anything?” I gasped out. I wanted to scream and shriek in panic. I didn’t want to die! Not like this. Not here. I had never thought of myself being injured and dying on the fire line. It’d never even crossed my mind. Sure, I knew the dangers that this job entailed, but I’d never, ever gotten hurt… until now.

  “There’s a narrow, oblong opening, a crevice near the base of the cliff about twenty-five yards up,” he said, crouching down beside me. “If we can get into that, wrap ourselves into one of the shelters, and use the other one to cover the opening, which I think I can do by cramming rocks into the crevices, I think we might just make it.”

  At this point, we had no other choice—or chance. I nodded slowly, staring into his eyes while he stared at me. I wanted to say everything that I felt, but just as I opened my mouth, he shook his head.

  “I’m going to take our shelters up there first. Then I’ll come back down for you.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer, but quickly snatched the blue bags that our fire shelters came in from each of our backpacks. Fire shelters were not designed to protect a firefighter from any and all fire situations, but they were designed to be used as a last resort in situations that Matt and I found ourselves in… trapped… outside of the safety zone with no escape.

  My fault. All my fault. If I hadn’t slipped… if I had been just a bit more careful, we wouldn’t be in this fix. If anything happened to Matt, it would be my fault. If we didn’t escape the wrath of the fire sweeping down this narrow valley, and perhaps through the box canyon, it would be my fault.

  Would Sam curse me?

  Would his family?

  I didn’t think about mine. My aunt was my only close living relative. My grandparents had passed away years ago. Would anyone grieve for me?

  At that moment, I realized how alone I was in the world. How desperately I wished I had a family, people who loved me, surrounding me. Sure, I knew that Diane, Melody and Serena would be saddened by my death, if I died out here.

  I shook my head. I had to think positive, but I also had to be realistic. At that moment, I realized that I had never made a will… not that I really needed one. I didn’t have much of value anyway.

  I sighed. I guess it really didn’t matter. If I died out here—I shook off the thought. We had a chance with the fire shelters. I could only hope that they would provide adequate protection. They were designed to reflect radiant heat while at the same time trapping inside breathable air. They looked too thin and flimsy to do much of anything, but the outer layer, constructed of aluminum foil, was bonded to woven silica cloth inside. The foil was designed to reflect heat while the silica material was designed to prevent heat from reaching inside the shelter.

  The shelters were capable of reflecting approximately ninety-five percent radiant heat. Added to that was another inner layer of aluminum foil, constructed of laminated fiberglass, which was designed to prevent heat from re-radiating the person taking shelter inside it. Still, were they enough to withstand constant exposure to several thousand degrees of a wildfire’s intense heat?

  The ones we carried had an opening on the underside. It would be like taking shelter beneath a carved out hot dog bun in a way. Other shelters looked like a typical pup tent. Basically, you opened up the shelter, climbed inside through the opening and then laid face down on the ground. Using your feet, your knees, your elbows, and your hands, you held the edges of the tent closed around you, like wrapping yourself in a sleeping bag.

  At the same time, I knew that the shelters could only withstand so much. Nineteen of the Hotshot firefighters killed in Yarnell, Arizona had been found dead in their shelters. Some hadn’t quite made it inside them when the fire overtook them. After all, the wrath of Mother Nature and the thousands of degree heat generated by a fire were no match for any man-made materials designed to protect, but at least they were capable of giving us a fighting chance.

  I was feeling pretty bad now,
physically and emotionally. Matt quickly made his way back, and then crouched down beside me. I think at this moment, seeing the look in his eyes, I knew that I loved him. I didn’t know if we were going to survive this. Well, if worst came to worst, it least I had experienced that much.

  “Jesse, I’ve got to pick you up. It’s going to hurt like hell, but we don’t have much time. I’ll try to be as careful as I can, but don’t fight me, okay?”

  I managed a nod. Without waiting a second more, he squatted down, placed his hands under my legs and around my shoulders, and stood. Pain shot through me. I clenched my jaws together, careful not to bite down on my tongue. I closed my eyes and tried to keep my breaths short and shallow.

  I failed.

  Every step he took sent bolts of pain to every part of my body. I uttered an unwilling gasp with each one. My leg felt like it was going to fall off. Despite my attempts not to, I groaned and barely stifled my urge to burst into tears. Crying certainly wouldn’t help my breathing. Would do no good at all.

  “Sorry, Jesse. Sorry Jesse,” Matt muttered every few feet. “I know it hurts, honey, but we’re almost there. Another fifteen yards… five more to go… we’re almost there…”

  Those black edges were once again creeping up around my consciousness. I didn’t want to faint. I wanted to be conscious. I needed to be conscious. I needed to help Matt do whatever he needed to do to save us. I fought against the blackness, forced my eyes open, forced myself to stare at the steady throb of the pulse in his neck.

  He sat me down, half leaning against a tree. I couldn’t believe that I could withstand such pain without fainting from it, but I did. I had never been on the receiving end of injuries, and could now imagine how frightened patients who came into the emergency room were. I had never “walked a mile in their shoes” so to speak.

  If I survived this, I knew without a doubt that I would become an even better nurse. Now I understood what it was like to be injured, helpless, and rely on someone else to save me.