She was wetting the cloth, a worried frown between her brows. He wanted to reach out and brush it away with his fingertips, but his arms were too heavy and he was still shaking too hard. Had she noticed?
Of course she’d noticed. That’s why she was talking so softly around him, treating him like he was a wounded animal. Ah hell. He’d lost his shit. In front of everyone. How the hell was he going to look them in the eyes again? How the hell was he going to face his son, after being proven to be a weak, cowardly idiot who let his fears get the best of him and worried everyone because of it? He wanted to run, to go somewhere nobody could see him. He’d almost done that once before, after he’d lost Anna, when things felt so bad he thought there was no future. This was almost as bad.
Except …
Prita looked up at him, her gaze holding him, steady and calm. Kind. Worried. No judgement. It gave him pause, made the tightness in his chest loosen a little as she held a bottle out to him.
‘Here, Flynn. Take a sip. No, only a sip. Slowly. Slowly.’
She held the bottle with him, guiding him, making sure he didn’t gulp. She took the bottle away and he wanted to protest, but she held the cloth up, and talking to him softly, began to wipe his face.
‘There, that’s better. I can see some of your freckles now. Let’s get some more of this mess off and see what’s what, shall we?’
He stared at her as she held his face in one hand, her fingers cool and steady on his chin, and wiped gently with the other around his eyes and brow and nose. It was heavenly, the wet cloth, her cool touch against his heated, sweaty skin. She was so composed, even though the smoke that still hung in the air must be hurting her throat and lungs.
‘Shouldn’t be here,’ he managed to mutter.
‘Neither should you,’ she said back to him.
‘Fine.’
Her gaze met his, still no judgement, just concern. ‘I don’t think you are.’ She looked back over her shoulder at the charred trees and ground, the smoke rising from areas where charred wood still smouldered. If a wind was to whip up suddenly, it could start all over again. The CFA volunteers really needed to get onto the still smoking areas more quickly. He took a breath to say as much and got a mouth and nose full of ash and smoke and coal and charred meat. He gagged.
‘Flynn?’ Reid’s grip on his shoulder tightened as he surged forward and vomited on the ground between his feet. There wasn’t much to bring up—lunch had been possibly days ago and he’d only had water since—but he kept dry retching, heaving and heaving, the acrid burn of bile mixing with the acidic char of what the fire had left behind, his head pounding harder with every heave.
Finally, the heaving stopped and he gasped and shuddered and slowly became aware of his surrounds as the sick pounding in his head backed off. Nat stood beside him, her hand soothing as it ran up and down his back.
Reid was on his other side, holding him steady, his voice tight with worry as he asked, ‘Doc? What’s going on?’
‘He’s dehydrated and suffering from heat stroke. He didn’t take a break through the firefighting, did he?’
He felt Reid’s shrug. ‘I was in a different sector for most of it.’
‘No,’ Nat said. ‘I was organising the rotating roster and sending out water to those fighting the fires. Those I sent out to him came back and said he wouldn’t give up the hose even long enough to take a drink.’
‘Idiot,’ Prita said under her breath.
He choked on a laugh, but then whimpered as the sound made his head thump sickeningly. She crouched down, catching his chin, lifting his head enough to see his face. ‘Don’t,’ he said, trying to brush her away, afraid he was going to vomit on her. Maybe he already had. She’d been standing close when he’d chucked his guts.
Her hand moved to his forehead, fingers still so cool and sure. Felt so good. He didn’t have the heart—or energy—to brush them away, to make her move, take care of herself. Not him. Never him. He didn’t deserve it.
‘You deserve all the care I can give you, despite being a bloody idiot,’ she said, cupping his face, staring into his eyes.
He grimaced—had he spoken out loud like she had a habit of doing or was she reading his mind?
‘You shouldn’t have been here at all with your knee still healing let alone the other reasons. But the most idiotic thing you did was refuse to take a break. Not stopping to take some fluids. You should know better.’
Nat and Reid said something, but their voices were wavering in and out, like they were speaking under water—only Prita’s words came to him with any true clarity.
‘Flynn? Are you with me?’ Something flashed in his eyes and he winced. Prita was holding a pen light in her hand and was flicking it in and out of his eyesight.
‘Hurts,’ he managed.
Her frown furrowed deeper—he really wished he could wipe that away. He hated when she frowned. He didn’t want her to have to worry about anything, let alone him. Yet, ironically, he seemed to be the cause of more of her frowns in the last month than at any time previously. Hadn’t he yelled at her earlier today? Over what? It seemed unimportant now. All that mattered was she was here. It was all he wanted. Had no idea just how much he needed her with him until now.
‘Nat, can you get my doctor’s bag and the first aid kit from the truck? They should have some salt tablets and also some ice packs.’ Nat ran off and Prita held the water
