Winning the Right Brother(20)

“Okay,” she said faintly, but the fireman, faceless in his uniform, was already gone, running to help with the heavy hose.

I should go check on Will, Holly thought, her mind working in slow motion and her body numb. She started to walk but she couldn’t feel her legs. The horrible sounds all around her—the greedy flames, the screaming sirens, the shouts of the firemen—seemed to recede.

There had been beautiful glass in her grandmother’s home. The stained glass above the front door, the chandelier in the dining room, the diamond-shaped panes in the bathroom windows upstairs. Holly walked past Mrs. Hanneman’s without stopping, making a wide circuit around the neighbor’s house until she reached the big backyard.

It was oddly private back there. No horrified neighbors, no firemen. Holly stood watching the blaze, blinking, and then suddenly her legs gave way and she was crouching on the ground, retching, her whole body racked with the force of her dry heaves.



Alex couldn’t sleep. He’d called Rich to apologize about the night before, and to make his feelings known on the subject of his ever going out with Holly, but the sportscaster just laughed.

“Are you kidding? As soon as you tossed her over your shoulder I knew she was off the market. I bet you’ve never done anything like that in your life. You’ve got it bad, huh? I guess she’s the reason you haven’t been in Cincinnati much lately.”

Alex frowned at the phone. “Holly and I are not a couple. I just don’t want you going after her. She’s not like the girls you usually pick up. She’s…different.”

“Sure she’s different. Because you’ve got a thing for her.”

“I don’t have a thing for her.”

“Uh-huh. Well, it was nice knowing you, buddy. Invite me to the wedding, okay? I always get lucky with bridesmaids.”

A few hours later Alex lay in bed, restless and edgy, as far from sleep as he’d ever been in his life. Finally he gave up the fight and turned on his bedside lamp, reaching for his current issue of Sports Illustrated. He hadn’t read more than a paragraph when the phone rang. He grabbed the receiver off the cradle.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Coach! It’s Tom Washington.”

Alex glanced at the clock in surprise. “It’s almost midnight, Tom. What’s going on?”

“It’s about Will,” he said, and Alex tensed. “His house, actually. You know my dad’s a fireman, right? He just got called out to a fire—at the Stantons. A bad one.”

A chill ran through Alex’s body. “Do you know if they’re okay?”

“I don’t know anything yet except that it’s bad. Coach, can you pick me up and take me over there? My mom’s working the night shift at the hospital and I—”

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Wait for me out front.”

Alex threw on some clothes and cursed viciously as he tried to tie his sneakers with shaking hands. He fought to stay calm as he drove to Tom’s, knowing that it wouldn’t help Holly any if he wrapped himself around a tree.

Tom was waiting at the curb, and he jumped into the car and slammed the door almost before it came to a stop. Alex saw he was holding a small transistor radio and figured it was tuned to the fire department’s band. “Any news?” he asked as he pulled away and headed for Holly’s house.

Tom shook his head. “Just that one guy said it was the worst fire he’d seen in five years.”

Alex felt cold. “Anything about the Stantons? If they got out safely?”

Tom shrugged helplessly. “I’m not sure. I can’t always follow what they’re saying. I think someone said there wasn’t anyone inside the house….”

They turned down Maple Avenue, and both of them gasped. The rising flames, the smoke, the flashing lights and wailing sirens, the people—

There was an ambulance there, too. Alex parked across the street and he and Tom ran over to the paramedic leaning against his vehicle.

“Anyone hurt?” Alex demanded, his voice sharp with fear.

The paramedic shook his head. “They both got out. A mother and a son. No burns or serious injuries. I’ve already seen the boy and he’s fine. I’m still waiting for the mother, just to check her over, and to make sure all the men are okay.” He glanced at the raging inferno that had once been a home. “It’s a bad one, all right. But no one was hurt.”

Alex closed his eyes. “Thank God,” he breathed. He opened his eyes. “Where are they?”

“The boy’s over there,” the paramedic said, pointing toward the house next door, where Tom and Alex could see Will on the front porch, leaning against the railing and watching the fire. An elderly woman stood next to him with her hand on his shoulder. Tom took off at a run while Alex turned back to the paramedic.