Page 59 of Snowed in with the Rancher

He blinked at her, trying to hear what she was saying through the hum of bone-chilling panic vibrating through his brain, his heart, his soul. It was telling him to shout, punch, tear anything and anyone apart that stood between him and his family. But he gazed into Lucy's steady stare, and then he felt Thomas's big, warm hand on his back, and he took first one breath, then another. Slowly his heartbeat steadied. The hum retreated.

And he was finally able to focus. “They're alive?” he croaked out.

“Yes, hon, they're all going to be fine,” Lucy said softly.

He nodded, suddenly so overcome, he thought he'd break down in tears right there in the middle of the hospital waiting room.

“Mr. McConnell?” Nurse Loren said, giving him a small smile. “We're getting them all oxygen and IV fluids. I think your wife will be ready to see you very soon, and then we can get you into the pediatric unit to visit the girls.”

He nodded, feeling unable to speak without completely falling apart. His mind caught for a second on the nurse calling Olivia his wife, but he didn't have the strength to correct her. Besides, if the hospital thought they were married, it should be easier for him to see Olivia as soon as possible.

Lucy and Thomas thanked the nurse before leading Tate to the chairs in the waiting room.

“They're going to be okay?” he repeated, looking at his father in desperation.

“Yes, son. The nurse said the firefighters got them out in time. The fire started in the kitchen, so it wasn't near the bedrooms. There was a lot of smoke, but the fire department was able to come in the front door and get down the hallway to the bedrooms safely.”

Tate's mind cleared suddenly cleared as a horrible realization crept in. “The kitchen?”

Thomas nodded.

“Did they leave a burner on or something?”

Tate didn't miss the look Thomas and Lucy sent one another. “It was electrical, wasn't it?” Deep down, he knew the answer. He didn't need his dad to confirm it.

“They won't know for sure until the investigation. Vince called, and he and the search and rescue team are heading there now to help the firefighters. You know he's done this kind of work before. They'll find the cause soon enough.”

Tate nodded, his expression grim. “I'll have Norene put in jail for this,” he vowed. “I don't care how old she is. She wastoldthat dated wiring was a hazard, and she refused to fix it. I should have fought harder, should haveinsisted.I know she swapped out some of it, but not enough. Not nearly enough.” He blinked to clear his vision and resumed, “I didn't ask Olivia if it had been done right, and she was in a hurry to get into her own house.” He hung his head then, staring at the cold tile floor below. “This is all my fault.”

“Stop,” Lucy demanded. “If therewasnegligence then it's Norene who bears the responsibility, but we don't know that for sure. All we know is that somehow a fire started in that house—but thank the good lord, Olivia and those beautiful girls are going to be fine. And Tate?” She gave him a look that only a mother could give. “That's what matters.”

“Mr. McConnell?” Nurse Loren was back. “You can come see your wife now.”

“It's going to be fine, son. We'll be right here. Just let us know when we can come on back,” Thomas told him encouragingly.

Tate nodded somberly and stood to follow the nurse down the cold hallway, his boots thudding on the hard tile flooring. “Now, her throat is still aggravated from the smoke,” Loren said. “So she's not going to feel up to much talking. And we have her on oxygen, so there are tubes in her nose, and an IV drip in her arm.”

“My daughters?” Tate asked, his throat thick with emotion.

“I'll go get a progress report on them as soon as I show you to your wife's room, and then I'll come update you both. Here we go,” Loren said, gesturing through the doorway into a room. “I'll be back in a flash with the news on your girls.”

Tate nodded his thanks, then cautiously entered the room. He walked quietly to the bed where Olivia's slight form lay motionless. As he reached her, he saw that her eyes were closed, her skin pale in the dim lighting.

He released a shaky breath and reached out to touch her hand, still smudged with ash and soot.

At his touch, her eyes drifted open, and when her dark gaze met his, his whole chest nearly exploded. The pressure behind his breastbone was physically painful. His head ached, his heart ached, his very soul ached.

He lifted her hand in his and watched as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I tried—” Her voice was little more than a rasp, and he shushed her right away.

“Shh.” He sat one hip on the mattress of her bed, leaning over her as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “Don't talk. Your throat is hurt.”

She nodded, the tears continuing to slide down her smooth cheeks.

He held her small hand between both of his larger ones and bowed his head over them, closing his eyes and simply breathing. He could smell the smoke that still permeated her hair, and it made him want to rail at the heavens. The emotions roiling inside him seemingly had no limits.

“I am so sorry I wasn't there,” he whispered. “I'm so sorry you were hurt and the girls—” His voice cracked then. “And the girls were in danger.” Then he looked into her eyes, and his voice was tense and shaking with pent-in emotion. “But I am so proud of you. They told me they found you in the girls' room, with one of them already in your arms. You were saving our daughters, and I can't—” He choked back the tears yet again. “I can't ever thank you enough for what you did.”

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