Where is Ryan? I resist the urge to glance at the door, knowing any anxiety I show will only cause the children to worry. It takes all of my strength to keep smiling and acting calm.
The hours tick by, and I’m getting more and more nervous. Thankfully, I find some crackers stashed in a nursery cabinet, and we feast on those as well. The five children are getting tired and cranky, and I try to make beds for them using an assortment of blankets and throws.
“Sleep,” I urge the little ones. “This is just a bad dream.”
The four younger ones settle down in their makeshift beds, and soon they’re dozing off, like cherubs floating on clouds. Rico, meanwhile, has retreated to a corner with a novel on dragons.
I sneak a look out the window. It’s dark now. Have we really been inside the entire day? Outside, there appears to be no progress with respect to the fire. I can’t tell if it has gotten worse, but the air is dark from the ash, and I can’t make out much of anything. Suddenly, Rebecca stirs from her sleep and blearily asks, “When will my daddy be home?”
Suddenly, a large shadow looms at the door.
“I’m home now, pumpkin,” Ryan says, stepping into the playroom. I want to throw my arms around him. His massive form is covered with soot from his head to his toe, but I don’t care. I want to hug him close and bury my head against his wide chest as he strokes my hair.
Rebecca, her voice quivering asks, “Daddy, is our house going to burn down?”
“No sweetheart,” he says, crouching down and stroking her cheek. “We’re perfectly safe. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll protect you.” Rebecca smiles and goes back to sleep. Ryan throws Rico a look and says, “Son, I’m going to talk to Regina for a sec. Can you watch over your brothers and sisters?”
Rico nods from his corner.
“You can count on me, Dad.”
Satisfied, Ryan gestures with his head for me to step outside. He follows and closes the door, and suddenly, we’re alone in the darkened hallway. I’m aware of his masculine scent, which is musky, slightly sweaty, and a deep, woodsy scent all his own. He’s dripping with perspiration. His clothes are stained beyond salvation. Where the sweat hasn’t streaked it, his face and forearms are black with soot and ash. He looks like a hero in an action movie who has just rescued a child from a burning building.
“Should we evacuate?” I ask quietly. “Is everything okay?”
He shakes his head.
“The house next door and surrounding brush is destroyed or soon will be. The air is pure smoke. Nobody can go outside, and it wouldn’t be safe to.” He can tell that I am terrified of what he has said and adds, “We’ll be fine though. There are firefighters from the town working hard outside, and I called a private fire brigade as well.”
I nod.
“Will they be able to put out the fire?”
His handsome face is grim.
“I certainly hope so. There’s going to be a lot of property damage, but that’s not important right now. Right now, the only thing that matters is that we’re safe and we’re going to stay safe.”
I nod and say quietly, “Okay, I’ll make sure the kids are okay.”
“I know you will,” he says. There is warmth in his voice, but it’s rough on the edges. Clearly, he’s been fighting the fire with his bare hands, although he’s a billionaire CEO. I’m almost afraid to ask.
Then, he touches my cheek, his blue eyes glinting in the low lights.
“You’ll be okay, Regina?”
I take a deep breath and smile at him, meeting his gaze.
“Yes, we’ll be fine. Don’t worry about the kids. I’ve got everything under control.”
He hesitates a moment, and throws me a long look. Then, he dips his head quickly, and with long, powerful strides, walks down the hall, leaving us. My heart calls out. I want him to come back. I want him to stay with us, but he’s a hero, and he’s going to save us from this fire.
I sleep fitfully, curled up on the playroom couch, only to be woken by a small hand tugging at my hair.
“Gina?” asks Rachel, her chubby face peering into my eyes. “You up?”
I rouse myself and smile.
“Hi, sweetheart. How are you? Want some Cheerios?”
Fortunately, the nursery seems stocked with a number of non-perishable items, and we dig into our second box of Cheerios. The kids are confused, but I try to answer their questions in a gentle way.
“No, I’m sorry, Rufus. I don’t know how much longer we’ll be sheltering here.”
“No, I’m sorry Rebecca. The fairies didn’t come last night and put out the fire . But your dad is out there now, and he’s working very hard to keep us safe.”