Texan's Baby. Barb Han

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      “What? I’d remember?”

      “That you’d care.” She pulled out the baggy of wedge-sliced limes from the pint-size fridge.

      “If you doubted my feelings before, then you don’t need to anymore. I’m ‘all in’ with everything connected to this little boy.” His tone was laced with just enough ice to send a chill rippling down her back. It wasn’t much, not enough for someone who didn’t know him to pick up on, but she knew.

      He bounced the baby on his knee and Mason was too happy for her to ruin the moment by shooting a zinger back. Besides, she didn’t want to start a fight in front of him, and since she was about to have her favorite drink courtesy of Dawson, she decided to let his comments slide as she fixed her soda.

      Ice in a glass, followed by Pepsi and then the lime and this was shaping up to be the best morning she’d had in a long while. She took a sip and could’ve sworn she heard angels sing. “I slept crazy-good on that couch last night.” She glanced at the clock. “Correction, this morning. Thanks for seeing to Mason.”

      “He needed his breakfast and you have to take better care of yourself.”

      So much for polite conversation.

      Melanie decided nothing would ruin her first Pepsi. She walked over to the small table and chairs nestled in the corner rather than sit in the living area.

      Not having to rush around to change Mason’s diaper and fix him something to eat left her feeling a little useless. This should be a glorious time. Had she forgotten how to have an easy morning? This wasn’t exactly a normal situation. She tried her best to ignore the big presence on the chair, but he seemed intent on sweating her out.

      “Okay. Fine. What did you want to discuss?” she asked.

      Dawson was on his feet. He made a beeline toward her, and her pulse beat faster with every step he came closer. She set her Pepsi down in time to receive Mason.

      “Do you smell that?” he asked, turning his attention toward the appliances.

      “No. What?” She sniffed near Mason’s diaper, grateful that wasn’t the kind of scent he was talking about.

      “Did you leave anything on in the bathroom?”

      “Like what? There’s only a hair dryer in there. I think you’d hear it.” She glanced around the room, and must’ve seen the smoke at the same time as he did.

      Dawson raced toward the door to the hallway and placed his hand on it. “It’s hot. We’re not going out that way.”

      “That’s not good.” Melanie tamped down the panic rising in her chest.

      “No. It isn’t.”

      “Why aren’t the smoke detectors going off?” She motioned toward the sprinkler on the ceiling.

      “Good question. The control panel might’ve been disabled,” he said with a frustrated grunt.

      “This can’t be related to us, can it? How would anyone know we were here?” she asked.

      “I thought we’d be safe all the way out here. Whoever set the fire might’ve located your car in the parking lot.” Dawson disappeared into the bathroom and she heard water running. Melanie found a phone and called 9-1-1.

      It took two minutes in total to report the fire.

      Dawson returned a few seconds later and placed the towels at the base of the door, sealing off the room. “We’re not getting out that way, so that means we have to use our other option.”

      Melanie glanced around the room as Dawson disappeared into the bedroom. She had no idea what options he was talking about.

      “I’m going to close this door so I don’t scare the baby when I break the window,” he said as he appeared in the doorway.

      “Okay. I’ll gather up supplies.” She let Mason stand by himself at the coffee table. He was a good walker but could get ahead of himself and end up on his back side.

      Melanie spent the next five minutes packing the diaper bag.

      A crash sounded as the sirens blared in the distance.

      Dawson appeared in the room a moment later. “We can’t leave until the firemen get here. There’s no way to get him down safely. This whole scenario makes me think someone’s trying to flush us out.”

      “I hear the sirens.” Smoke was creeping in through the vents causing Melanie to cough.

      Dawson picked up Mason and held him tight to his chest. “Let’s bring him in the other room where the air is clear.”

      The little boy angled his body toward the floor, started wiggling and winding up to cry.

      “He wants down. What should I do?” The big strong Dawson looked at a loss for the first time since this ordeal had started last night.

      Melanie held out her hands, trying to see if her son would come to her. Mason let out a whimper and shook his head.

      “Come on, baby.”

      His answer was still no.

      She located her keys in the diaper bag and jingled them. He took the bait this time and angled his body toward her.

      Dawson jumped into action the second they hit the next room. He wet towels and stuffed them under the door to prevent smoke from filling the bedroom. And then he paced.

      The next ten minutes waiting for the firemen to arrive were excruciating.

      Dawson was signaling the firefighters in the lot as they roared up to the building.

      Once they were discovered, it didn’t take but a few more seconds for a safety ladder to be placed against the wall and a fireman to climb the rungs.

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