Four Weeks by Melissa Ford Page B

was up in the loft. He shouted again. “Hang on. I'm coming."
    Off in the distance the wail of the fire truck and the siren of the ambulance grew louder. Help was on the way, but he couldn't take the chance it would arrive in time. He had to find whoever it was and get them out of there. There was no telling how long they'd been breathing in the poisonous gases of that smoke.
    Stepping through the cloud, he hurried along the wall until he found the ladder that led to the loft. The smoke was thicker at the top and soon he was coughing, too. Each hot breath burned his throat. All he saw was the swirling, mean gray air.
    He searched the small loft with his arms and tear-filled gaze until he spotted a figure hunched in the corner. Keeping himself low, he crawled over to the person until he could touch the body.
    Louise.
    She coughed again as she swayed toward his voice. He summoned one last breath and reached for her. He wheezed from the effort, but he had to get her out of here. The firemen arrived below and called out, but he didn't have any breath left to answer.
    After swinging Louise over his shoulder, he crawled on his knees to the ladder. The smoke had thickened so much that he could barely see the edge of the loft, but luck was on his side, someone appeared at the top of the ladder and took her from him.
    The fireman shouted over the hissing of the hoses. “I got her, pal. You come on down after me."
    The pain in his lungs prevented Trent from speaking, but he managed a nod. The man disappeared. Trent swung his leg over the top rung and worked his way down.
    By the time he reached the bottom of the ladder, the smoke had already begun to clear. The stink of burnt, wet hay filled the small room. Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him outside into the fresh night air. His throat burned and his lungs felt like they were going to crack, but he pulled in a long breath anyway.
    "Louise?” he mumbled to the man holding his arm.
    The man pointed across the yard.
    Trent sagged with relief when he saw her sitting up, coughing, but alive and breathing on her own.
    "Come on buddy,” the man guided him across the yard and sat him down beside Louise. He leaned close, “You okay?"
    Trent nodded, tried to say thanks, but ended up coughing instead.
    The man patted Trent on the shoulder. “No need to say anything. Relax, and the medic will be by to check you out."
    Trent slumped against the fence as the man jogged off and disappeared through the barn door.
    A medic appeared, took care of Louise and then examined him. He let the man go through his routine, but he barely heard the orders to take it easy and see the doctor tomorrow. All he could think about was Louise.
    She'd finally stopped gasping for air. Her face was covered with black smudges and bits of straw stuck out from her hair. He wanted to ask her everything; like what was she doing in the hayloft? How had the fire started? Did she realize how badly she'd scared him when he saw her doubled over? But when he gazed into her eyes and saw fear, he kept his mouth shut.
    * * * *
    LOUISE WANTED TRENT to stop staring at her and put his arms around her. Fear churned through her, even though she was safe. What would've happened if he hadn't come by? She was thankful he had, but hated that she'd put him in danger.
    Trent's coughing finally stopped. “You okay?” he asked.
    Louise reached for his arm. “They already checked me over. I'm fine thanks to you. You saved my life."
    He shook his head. “No, Louise. The firemen would've gotten here in time.” He turned toward the firemen putting away their equipment. “Let's not talk about it."
    One of the men came over, knelt between them, and pulled off his hat. “Not much damage, really."
    Trent pointed at the barn. “But there was so much smoke, I figured the whole place was going up."
    The fireman shrugged. “The hay that caught fire was wet. That'll make a lot of smoke.” He looked from Trent to Louise. “You two okay?"
    "I'm