Beautiful Sacrifice (The Maddox Brothers #3)(69)
Author: Jamie McGuire

Kirby stared at me for a long time. “I’m so sorry.” Once the shock wore off, her expression twisted into revulsion. “I’m sorry. I really am. But he was willing to forgo a family for you, and you won’t even entertain the idea of a family for him?” she asked. “You think you’re saving him or whatever, but you’re covering your own ass. You’re scared.”

“Kirby!” Phaedra said. “Enough!”

Kirby hopped off the stool, looking for something to clean. She turned up the volume on the small overhead television in the corner. Looking up at it, she crossed her arms.

“Falyn?” Kirby said, watching the screen.

“Leave her be, Kirby,” Chuck said.

“Falyn?” Kirby said again, scrambling for the remote and turning the volume to the maximum level.

The rest of us watched in horror as a female reporter stood in front of tall grass and burning trees not two hundred yards behind her while the words ALPINE HOTSHOT CREW FEARED MISSING scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

“That’s correct, Phil. The Estes Park crew who have traveled to the Colorado Springs area to help control this fire have not returned or reported in, and officials have listed them as missing.”

I rushed to the television, standing next to Kirby. In the same moment, everything I swore to forget came back to me—the way his skin felt against mine, the dimple that sunk into his chin, his laugh, the security I felt in his arms, and the sadness in his eyes when I’d walked away from him in the hotel.

“Cassandra, do officials have an idea where the crew is?” the anchorman asked.

“The last reported communication with the Estes Park crew was at six o’clock this evening, right about the time the two main fires converged.”

I grabbed my keys before sprinting out to my car. The moment my seat belt clicked, I twisted the key in the ignition and stomped on the gas.

Less than ten minutes later, Taylor’s hotel came into view. I parked and ran inside, immediately seeing Ellison standing with a crowd of firefighters and hotshot crew members from the entire state. She was watching the large flat screen with her mouth covered.

“Ellie!” I called.

She ran to hug me, nearly knocking me over. She squeezed me tight, sniffling.

“I just heard. Any news?” I asked, trying not to panic.

She released me and shook her head, wiping her nose with a tissue she had tucked in her palm. “Nothing. We arrived just after seven. Tyler drove like a maniac. He’s out there with the crews, looking for them.”

I hugged her. “I know they’re okay.”

“Because they have to be.” She held me at bay, forcing a brave smile. “I heard about the baby. First Maddox grandbaby. Jim’s ecstatic.”

My face fell.

“Oh God. Oh, no. Did you … are you not pregnant anymore?”

I stared at her, utterly confused and horrified. She mirrored my expression.

“You’re right,” she said. “This isn’t the time. Let’s go sit. Trex is getting updates every half an hour from his people.”

“His people?”

Ellison shrugged. “I don’t know. He just said his people.”

We sat together on the couch in the lobby, surrounded by firefighters, hotshots, and various officials. As the night wore on, the crowd thinned.

My eyes felt heavy, and every time I blinked, it seemed more difficult to open them again. The desk clerk brought us coffee and a plate of doughnuts, but neither Ellison nor I touched the food.

Trex came over, sitting in the chair adjacent to our sofa.

“Any word?” Ellison asked.

Trex shook his head, clearly disheartened.

“What about the rescue team?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Trex said. “I’m sorry. My guys only give visual confirmation, and they haven’t seen anyone in an hour. The helos are up with spotlights, but the smoke is making it difficult to see.” He glanced back at the desk clerk and then shook his head. “I’m going to call them in ten minutes. I’ll let you know the moment I hear anything.”

Ellison nodded, and then her attention was drawn to the entrance.

Taylor walked in, his skin caked in dirt and soot. He removed his bright blue hard hat, and I stood, my eyes instantly filling with tears.

I leaned forward, my body half-frozen, half-screaming at me to run to him.

Ellison jumped out of her seat and rushed past me, throwing her arms around him.

It wasn’t Taylor but Tyler. I’d only felt that much devastation one other time in my life—the moment Olive was pulled from my arms.

Matching clean streaks ran down Tyler’s cheeks as he hugged Ellison, shaking his head.

“No,” I whispered. “No!”

Tyler rushed over to me. “Taylor’s crew was cut off when the fires converged. It’s possible that they could have backed themselves into a cave, but … the temperatures are … it doesn’t look good, Falyn. I tried. They dragged me out. I’m sorry.”

He hugged me, and my hands fell limp at my sides.

There were no tears, no pain, no waves of emotion. There was nothing.

And then my knees buckled, and I wailed.

By morning, Ellison was lying on Tyler’s lap, asleep, while he sipped his fourth cup of coffee. His eyes had been glued on the television screen, just like mine.

Fresh crews came downstairs, ready for a second search-and-rescue mission. Tyler’s team had all trudged in and gone upstairs to catch what sleep they could.

Trex stood at the desk with the woman who had brought us coffee all night. His team had turned in two hours before, waiting until daylight before resuming their air search.

I stood, and Tyler’s eyes followed.

“I have to go to work,” I said. “I can’t sit here anymore. I have to stay busy.”

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck, like Taylor would when he was upset or nervous. “I’ll let you know the moment I hear something.”

“Are you going back out?” I asked.

“I’m not sure they’ll let me. I might have punched one or two people before they removed me from the area.”

“He’s your brother. They’ll understand.”

Tyler’s eyes glossed over, and his bottom lip trembled. His head fell forward, and Ellison touched his shoulder, whispering words of comfort.

I made my way out to the parking lot, moving in slow motion.

The drive to the Bucksaw was a blur. I had no thoughts. I didn’t cry. Everything was automatic—breathing, braking, turning.