A Wife For Ben. Cheryl Wolverton

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СКАЧАТЬ rushed out. Air, clean and plentiful, met them. He got away from the house and deposited his bundle on the ground, working to breathe and clear his lungs.

      “No! No…” The woman gagged, her raspy voice barely audible between the hoarseness and coughing. Out of the soot-covered face, two deep blue eyes pleaded with him, terrified, desperate. Her hands gripped his arm as she sucked in air, trying to calm her coughing.

      “You’ve inhaled smoke. You need to lie still.”

      “You—under—and. Baby…”

      Ben’s heart dropped at her words. His breath stuck in his throat.

      “Baby? Someone else is in the house?”

      Frantically she nodded, her black-streaked hair falling into her face. “Five. I have—her.” She broke into another round of coughing.

      Ben’s stomach clenched with queasiness. Whirling, he stared at the house. Flames engulfed the back part. The roof was smoldering and would go at any time. In the distance he heard the sound of sirens, but with all the smoke and fire, they wouldn’t make it in time.

      He didn’t think. He simply acted. Taking a deep breath, he barreled into the house. Thick billowing smoke met him, and he prayed he’d find the child before he choked on the noxious odors.

      Think. Think!

      The woman, lying in the floor near a door. Yes. That was it. She had to be going after her daughter. Rushing that way, Ben met scorching heat. Putting his hand to the door he found it warm, not hot, and hoped it was safe to open without causing damage.

      With a quick jerk, he opened and closed it behind him. Smoke, not as thick, had started filling this room. Wiping an arm across his sweat-covered face, he called, “Anyone here? Come out. We have to get you out of here.”

      He broke into a round of coughing, feeling as if his lungs were on fire. He could hardly make out the bed across the room—only enough to see the covers were disturbed, as if someone had been in it.

      He jerked the closet door open, found no one. A quick move around the room. He was getting frantic. He couldn’t breathe. The heat was intense against the door. He was out of time.

      As a last shot he went to the bed and suddenly realized he hadn’t looked under it. Sure enough, a small child was bundled under there, crying. He heard her as soon as he went down on one knee. Brown curly hair surrounded the child’s fearful face. Big brown eyes, filled with fright, locked on to him. In her arms she held a white teddy bear. Her breathing was uneven and labored as she stared at him, frozen under her bed.

      “Come here, honey,” Ben said, and without waiting for a reply grabbed her. She dropped the bear, her arms clutching at his neck, to his ever-lasting relief. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. We’ll get you outta here.”

      The little girl whimpered in his ear, clutching his neck and burying her head against his shoulder.

      A sense of purpose took over him. He’d get this little girl out.

      The door was too hot, out of the question to go back that way, so he chose the window. Covering her with the blanket from the bed, he went to the window. Using his hands, he managed to get the glass out, then kicked out the screen. The mother was on the other side of the window, unsteady but working to help. Her deep blue eyes were determined and steady. She wanted her child out of the burning house and in her arms.

      He’d never seen that look in a woman’s eyes before. It was a mother’s willingness to do anything to protect her child.

      He gladly handed the coughing child to her mother before slipping through the small square exit and landing unsteadily in the flower garden, going to one knee. He forced himself to his feet, slipped an arm around the tiny frame of the mother and pushed her farther from the house. “Others?” He rasped the word out, trying to breathe in the warm muggy morning air but feeling like he was breathing in razors over raw skin.

      “No. None. Oh…” Gasp, cough. “Thank you.” Hugging her child closely to her chest, she dropped to her knees.

      Between her sobs and her coughs, Ben couldn’t make out much of what the pink-enshrouded woman said. Falling to his knees, he knelt and worked on breathing.

      The crunching of gravel as a fire truck pulled in mixed with the sound of the corner of the roof collapsing on the house.

      In what seemed like seconds a fireman was beside them administering first aid, giving them oxygen and easing their painful attempts to breathe.

      Ben watched the ambulance arrive. Technicians checked out each of them. He noted that the woman, her long blond hair smudged with soot, clung to her daughter. The little child, who had dark hair and big brown eyes, looked like the mother except in coloring. She looked more scared than ill from the smoke.

      The technicians took no chances and gave the child oxygen. Then it was his turn. The two ambulance technicians worked on them as the firemen shouted back and forth, spraying water on the fire to get it under control.

      Finally, with the woman on a stretcher and the child and Ben strapped into seats across from her, the ambulance headed for the hospital in Zachary.

      Over and over he heard the woman saying, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” And the entire time, as he watched the woman try to comfort the child and be brave while coping with the fact she’d just lost most of her house and nearly her life, he thought, Where’s your husband?

      Chapter Two

      Women are a species all to themselves, with the ability to cause you to make crazy decisions.

      —Ben’s Laws of Life

      Okay, okay, I admit I was ashamed not to know my neighbors. But when you see a good-looking woman with a kid you expect to find a husband attached.

      At least I did. Of course, I was going to find out many of my bachelor ideas were inaccurate, to say the least. But first, I had to learn just how out of touch with the real world I was.

      And boy did I get a dose of reality right after we arrived at the hospital.

      “You don’t know her name?”

      Ben shrugged. “No.” He could feel the dull flush creep up his cheeks as the nurse inspected him like he was some odd microbe under a microscope. Turning to the bed next to him, he asked, “Can you tell me your name?”

      He wondered why the nurse had asked him instead of the woman, anyway.

      Through the oxygen mask she wore the woman muttered, “Nie…ebber.”

      Glancing at the nurse, he said, “Annie Webber.” He remembered the name Webber on the mailbox.

      The nurse studied him. “This is your wife, sir?”

      Shaking his head, he admitted, “No. We’re not married.”

      The woman next to him grabbed his hand.

      “I see,” the nurse said, looking pointedly at their hands.

      “St…nie,” the woman said, jerking СКАЧАТЬ