A Special Kind of Family (9 page)

‘Hey,’ Dom managed in a voice that was full of smoke and fear and the remnants of toxins. ‘We’re all okay. Thanks to our wonderful Erin.’

‘Thanks to all of us,’ she replied, kissing Nathan’s hair. What she really felt like doing right now was kissing Dom but it was hardly appropriate. So she just sat within the circle of eight arms and Marilyn’s tongue and felt fabulous, and then the sirens started in the distance and the cavalry was here.

F
IRST
came a fire engine, screaming though the dark, screeching to a halt at the front gate, sending floodlights over the scene and disgorging maybe fifteen men and women, all in various states of undress. They were donning uniforms as they climbed from the vehicle, Erin saw from the safety of her under-veranda sanctuary. They’d be local volunteers, roused out of their beds, expecting anything.

‘We’re over here,’ she tried to call, but her voice wasn’t working properly, and then she saw them heading toward the gate and Marilyn’s puppies were right in the way.

‘Go stop them,’ Dom said, and she cast him a look of desperation. Because that was how she felt. Desperate. Her voice didn’t work. She wasn’t sure her legs would work.

‘The boys are safe here with me,’ Dom said. ‘Save the puppies.’

How did he know where the puppies were?

But then she looked out through the smoky haze and Marilyn was making a beeline for the gate and she thought it wouldn’t take much of Dom’s intelligence to figure out that’s where the puppies were.

‘Go,’ he said, and he reached out and touched her face in a fleeting gesture that could mean anything at all but it meant everything. It gave her the strength to pull herself up and stagger across the garden after Marilyn.

‘Watch your feet,’ she managed to scream, and the front firefighter stopped dead, long enough for her to reach the puppies and gather them up again into her arms. Poor Marilyn. This was not an ideal maternity hospital, she thought grimly, but at least they were alive.

And help was at hand. The lead firefighter was in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, his face grim and his voice sharply authoritative.

‘Is anyone inside?’

‘We’re all out,’ she managed. She tried to turn, and he relaxed his grasp, but only a little. And indeed if he’d released her completely she might have toppled over. ‘They’re by the veranda.’

‘Doc?’

‘And the two boys. In the garden by the steps. The fire’s upstairs.’

‘Put her behind the truck,’ the guy growled to someone behind him and she was placed firmly into the hold of someone else. Someone propelling her out of the way.

‘I need to go back to Dom.’

‘We’ll bring Dom to you,’ the man said.

And in minutes they did. She was sitting where she’d been led, on the far side of the fire truck, feeling reaction set in, feeling sick, holding an armload of puppies and with Marilyn draped over her legs.

Dom was carrying Martin, and a firefighter was carrying Nathan.

Martin was fully conscious now. His eyes were huge, full of fear. Only Nathan was no longer fearful. With terror past, this was a small boy’s dream. Firefighters and engines and fire.

For Martin it looked to be the stuff of nightmares.

‘We’ve rung an ambulance,’ the firefighter told Dom, but Dom shook his head and lowered himself to sit beside Erin, still holding Martin hard against him.

‘We won’t need an ambulance,’ he said, firm and sure. ‘Martin’s okay now. He passed out through smoke inhalation but he’s looking good. If you can grab my emergency bag from the
back of my car I’ll give him some oxygen. You know I’m a doctor, Graham. I can take care of him.’

‘But…’ Erin paused. Martin had come close to dying from smoke inhalation. If she’d had him in her emergency department she’d be wanting oxygen, X-rays, intensive care type observation for the night.

Dom would know the score as well as she did. He’d know there was a possibility they’d cracked ribs. Why…?

And then she looked at Martin, who was shivering against Dom, deathly pale, terrified. Dom was weighing relative risks, she realised. Keep him here and run the risk of complications—or send him to hospital and maybe cause even more trauma. If his mother had been harming him to draw attention to herself…This child must have had enough of hospitals for life.

Okay. She’d go with Dom on this one.

‘How much oxygen do you have here?’ she asked, and he flashed her a look that said he knew what she was thinking, but he knew what he was doing.

‘Enough to send the local football team scuba diving for a week or so.’

She refused to smile. She needed to focus. ‘Can you do a chest X-ray here?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay, then,’ she conceded. ‘I concur.’

The tension in Dom’s face eased a little. ‘Great.’

Above them, the firefighter was frowning. ‘If you’re sure…’

‘I’m sure,’ Dom said. ‘Just go save my house.’

‘I’m a doctor, too,’ Erin told him. ‘I’ll take care of them.’

The man cast her a look that said frankly he didn’t believe her. Maybe she wouldn’t either, she thought drily. She was wearing pink pyjamas—silk. She was covered in soot and she was wrapped in a huge grey army blanket. Doctor? Sure.

‘It really is okay,’ Dom said. ‘Erin helped me with Jamie
Sutherland yesterday. You’ve probably heard. She’s more than competent. Amazingly I seem to have a colleague.’

‘Well, about bloody time,’ the man said, and gave Erin a grin. ‘Welcome to Bombadeen, Doc. You sure are welcome.’ He gave her a salute, part gentle mockery but there was thanks and admiration in there as well—and disappeared back to the action. Another firefighter brought Dom’s equipment, and they were left alone.

Which was…weird.

Sitting in a huddle on the far side of the biggest of the fire engines, it was as if they were in a cocoon of isolation, cut off from the drama being played out on the other side of the truck. Men were shouting, orders were being thrown, flashlights were augmenting the floodlights—it seemed the press had arrived. There was organised chaos as the firefighters went about their business. Floodlights were playing over the house, but here they were in shadow.

They were in a tight huddle. Dom had Martin hugged tight against him. Erin had checked Martin’s lungs. She’d put on an oxygen mask on him, but Martin was recovering by the minute. Thank God.

Dom was sitting with his back against the truck’s rear tyre, and involuntarily Erin shifted closer—close enough so she could feel the comfort of his big body against hers. She was holding Nathan but the feel of one little boy wasn’t enough contact. She needed as much reassurance as she could get.

She needed to feel that she wasn’t alone, that the terror of the fire was over.

Marilyn was settling down amidst her puppies, nuzzling each, doing her eternal check, and the dog’s rump was firmly settled against her leg. Marilyn, too, it seemed, needed comfort.

‘Hey, more blankets,’ someone called from the shadows, and produced a pile of thick wool to spread over all of them. Dry, soft wool. Lovely.

Amazingly Nathan was back to being himself. He wriggled out of their grasp and ventured to the end of the fire truck, taking a blanket with him. Erin watched his small face transform from fear and shock to wonder. Firefighters. Hoses, pumps, water…

He was a small boy again, and this was an adventure.

Not for her, yet. Not for Martin and not for Dom. She sniffed, feeling a bit desperate, and Dom’s arm came round her shoulders.

‘It’s okay,’ he said softly. ‘We’re safe. Thanks to you.’

‘I didn’t…’

‘You know, smoke makes you want to be sick,’ Dom said thoughtfully, his hand putting pressure on her shoulders in a silent warning that he was no longer talking to her—that he had a plan. ‘It’s horrid. Being sick is horrid. Being burned is horrid.’

She sensed, rather than saw, Martin tense in Dom’s arms. Nathan was out of earshot but there was no way Martin was ready to call this an adventure.

‘I’m guessing you made a little fire, Martin,’ Dom said softly, and in the eerie, deflected light from the floodlights she saw the little boy’s eyes flare.

‘I didn’t…’

‘I think you did,’ Dom said, and amazingly his tone was conversational. Matter-of-fact. ‘In the blanket box in Tansy’s room.’

‘It was only a little fire,’ Martin whispered. ‘I thought it would hurt me just a little bit. But then I got scared and hid in the cupboard.’

‘And that was really, really sensible,’ Dom said, still matter-of-factly. ‘Because who wants to be hurt? If you’d hurt yourself you would have had to go to hospital and Nathan and I would miss you.’

‘You’d come and sit by me. You’d give me stuff.’

‘We give you more stuff when you’re here,’ he said. ‘Lots more stuff. Hospital’s lonely.’

‘My mum was in hospital.’

There were depths here she hadn’t dreamed of. Erin found she was forgetting to breathe. Oh, Martin…

Oh, Dom.

‘I’m thinking Erin reminded you of your mum,’ Dom said softly. ‘Your mum’s very sick. That’s bad, but what’s worse is that sometimes she made you sick or hurt too, so she could go to hospital with you. That was part of her sickness. But now you live with people who aren’t sick. People who try really hard to stay well. Because it’s more fun. Do you like living with us?’

‘Yes.’ Then, almost defiantly, ‘Yes! And I don’t like being sick. I didn’t want to be burned. I was scared.’

‘No one wants to be sick. If you’re sick you can’t run, swim, jump on your pogo stick, make the best Easter buns in the world. From now on you have to stay well so you can do all those things.’

Dom was stroking Martin’s hair, softly, softly. His hands were stained black, his face was grimed, he’d come close to death himself, but it seemed now that he had all the time in the world. This man was the gentlest man she’d ever met, Erin thought.

She’d thought she’d met the most caring of doctors.

She was wrong.

‘Dom went all through the house to find you, Martin,’ Erin whispered, guessing there’d been healing tonight but instinctively guessing there was room—even a need—for lightness now. For both Dom and for Martin. ‘Dom wore a big, wet blanket and he crawled through the house looking for you. He looked like a big, wet bear.’

‘And Erin looked like a littler bear,’ Dom said, seeing where she was going and going with her. ‘She crawled, too. Mummy and Daddy Bear looking for Baby Bear in the cupboard.’

And suddenly, amazingly, Martin managed a smile. A bit watery. A bit pale, but a smile for all that.

‘I’m not a baby bear. I’m not fuzzy enough.’

Dom chuckled.

It was an amazing sound.

Erin blinked and suddenly her eyes widened and she looked at him—she really looked at him—and the thought came to her with such blinding clarity it almost hurt.

This guy’s awesome.

And…

I could really, really love this guy.

And…

Stupid or not, I think I already do.

Dom was hugging Martin and smiling, but suddenly his gaze shifted and he was looking at her. Their gazes locked and she knew she ought to look away but she didn’t.

Big, gentle, kind, clever, he was so damned sexy that if the kids weren’t here she could have had him on the spot.

It must be the shock, she thought, stunned. To be thinking of jumping him, right here, right now…it was totally inappropriate.

But, oh, if she could…

He was looking a question. She tried to pull herself together—and failed.

‘I…I…’ She couldn’t think of what to say next.

‘Are you okay?’

‘No,’ she managed. ‘I’m a bit shocked. I’m a bit full of smoke. If…if you don’t mind I need to go see if the house is still standing. It…Maybe it’s important.’

‘We’re all fine,’ Dom said. He couldn’t move. He had his arms full of Martin but Erin was so choked up, the need to leave was imperative. She went to rise but Dom’s hand came out and gripped her wrist, holding her down.

‘You really are okay?’ he demanded, sounding worried.

‘I really am okay,’ she managed. ‘I’m just a bit…a bit…Well, we’re fine. But if you don’t mind, I left my shoes in the house and I need to see if the firemen have saved them.’

‘Your shoes,’ Dom said blankly.

‘And my Easter egg,’ Nathan said from behind them.

‘And my pogo stick,’ Martin whispered.

‘Of course,’ Erin said. ‘See? I need to save shoes and egg and pogo stick.’

‘But—’

‘I need to go, Dom,’ she said, more urgently this time, but then as his hold on her wrist tightened she couldn’t help herself.

She turned to face him, head on. His face was right there. His eyes were on a level with hers. His mouth…

Yeah, okay, his mouth. Inappropriate, inappropriate, inappropriate.

What the hell. He was tugging her closer.

She let herself be tugged.

And kissed.

What had she expected?

A feather kiss? A kiss of reassurance, friendship? It stood not a snowball’s chance in a bushfire of being anything so tame. His kiss—his demanding hold—his touch—were an affirmation of the blast of emotion that had just hit her.

His kiss was…hers.

That’s what it felt like. Here was an unlocked link, an open part of her that had been left free, waiting for the right connection. It was a connection of heat, of want, of need, of everything she’d been waiting for all her life. Here it was, in this one kiss.

In this one man.

Everything faded. Everything.

To an observer maybe the kiss was light. She couldn’t melt against him—Martin was already there. She was somehow kissing him—being kissed—over the top of Martin’s head. But Dom’s kiss was as demanding as hers, taking comfort, taking heat, taking whatever she had to give.

Dom. Her hero.

Her man.

In the last couple of days, her world had been blasted apart. Or maybe her world had been blasted apart twenty or more years ago with the death of her brother and sister, and maybe it had taken until now to come out from under the rubble. Since her siblings’ deaths she’d been drifting, trying to make sense of everything, but nothing quite had. She’d been trying to make herself three people.

But she couldn’t be what she was supposed to be. Her tumble down the cliff had shown her just how stupid that ambition was. She’d nearly died. And now again tonight…This was the only life she had. This was her life. Hers.

And now it felt like she was giving that life away—but gaining so much in return. Dom. A life for a life. It felt right, it felt wonderful, and it felt like the other half of her whole had slipped magically into place.