Authors: Nikki Rittenberry

Rescue Me (Butler Island)

Rescue
Me

Nikki
Rittenberry

N
J
R

This book is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All
rights reserved. No part of this book may be stored, reproduced, or transmitted
in any form or by any means without express written permission by the author.
www.nikkirittenberry.com
.

Book
cover image
www.bigstockphoto.com
contributed by Yuri Arcurs.

Manufactured in the United
States of America

“Love is the ultimate
expression of the will to live.”

—Tom Wolfe

Rescue
Me

Prologue

MEMORIAL DAY

Randall Burns sat on his back porch with the remote to
his stereo in one hand, a frosty bottle of Miller Lite in the other. It was
ferociously hot today; the kind of heat that could fry an egg—or a person’s
flesh—in two minutes flat.

The thick humid air nearly smothered his lungs as he
inhaled a deep breath, but that was the least of his worries. Kendall Porter,
one of his best friends—and the woman he was in love with—was set to arrive in
a few minutes. She called earlier and asked if she could stop by this
afternoon, hinting that she had something important to talk to him about.

He had a pretty good idea that the “important topic” had
to do with her return to full-time status at Porter Pharmacy. Rumor was she’d
resigned from her position in Jacksonville last week at a large-chain pharmacy
to return to the small drugstore her father opened nearly thirty years ago.

Question was: why?

It’d always been her plan to live in a big city, to blend
with the crowd. And yet she was back…

Don’t get him wrong—he wasn’t complaining. The thought of
her living four hours away in the state’s biggest city had been a tough pill to
swallow. And unfortunately his gut told him her reason for remaining in Butler
Island was going to be an even bigger one.

The
sultry breeze carried a hint of salt from the
nearby
Gulf as Jimmy Buffet sang
Cheeseburger in Paradise
. The song reminded
him of Kendall; the girl loved bacon cheeseburgers (and onion rings, of course).
His thumb hovered over the
SKIP
button
just as Kendall appeared along the side of the yard.

“Figured
I’d find you out here”, she uttered as she moved toward the covered patio.

Randall stood from his cushioned patio chair and wrapped
his arms around the woman he loved. He held her a few seconds longer than he
probably should have, taking the opportunity to breathe her in. And when she
pulled away, the look in her amber eyes confirmed what he’d feared most.

She was in love with another man.

“You want a beer?” he finally asked, suddenly uncom
fortable
with the awkward silence.

Kendall shook her head. “I…I can’t stay long. Um… I’m
sure you’ve heard by now: I’m staying in Butler Island to run Porter Pharmacy.”

He nodded. “Yeah, surprised the hell out of me. Leaving
this place was all you used
to talk about.”

Kendall stared at her flip-flops as if the right words
were scrawled along the jeweled straps. “Things change. People change”, she
uttered softly. She lifted her watery gaze, her eyes settling on his. “There’s
something you need to know, Rand. And I wanted to make sure you heard it
directly from me… I…”

God, here it comes
…

“I’m moving in with Ty.”

Randall scrubbed his palm down his face, praying the
action would temporarily disguise the agony that’d colonized just below the
surface. He drew in a deep breath—difficult on a humid day like today—prepared
to tell the biggest lie he’d ever told. “I’m happy for y—”

“
There’s more”, she interjected. “I’m… well, I’m
pregnant
. The baby’s due mid-November.”

Wow. He hadn’t seen that one coming. “You don’t have to
move in with the guy, Babe. We can make this”—he gestured between them—“work.”

Shaking her head, she blurted, “We’re in love with each
other, Rand… We’re
sort of
engaged.”

He was rendered speechless. Kendall was pregnant with
Ty’s baby, and they were…
in love
. A bitter ache unlike anything he’d
ever experienced before speared his already fragile heart, making his chest
feel heavy. Wounded.

“Rand?”

Briefly he closed his eyes, allowing the grief to pummel
through him. Why was this happening? Why couldn’t she love
him
?

“Rand,
say something, please. You have me on pins and needles, here.”

“I don’t really know what to say”, he managed as his eyes
settled back on hers. “A small part of me is naturally happy for you. But the
biggest part is…is… shit, Kendall!”

“Please, don’t be angry with me. The last thing I wanted
was to hurt you.”

Pacing back and forth, he intertwined his fingers behind
his head, desperately trying to keep his cool. “I’m not mad at you—I’m mad at
the situation.” Halting in front of the small table that housed his stereo, his
temper flared. Randall swiped his hand, and in one swift motion, shoved the
audio equipment over the edge.

Kendall
cringed as it tumbled to the ground, pieces shattering, scattering at their
feet.

He
stood with his back turned, his hands low on his hips, trying to figure out how
he was supposed to move on with his life. How he was supposed to watch the
woman he loved start a family with someone else. “Why, Kendall?” he uttered
softly. “Why couldn’t you love me?”

“I wanted to, Rand. So very much, I wanted to. I’d do
anything for you—you’re one of my best friends! I don’t want to lose you!”

Randall chuckled softly, although he didn’t find the
conversation to be the least bit humorous. “You’d do anything for me except
give us a chance… Things could’ve been different, Babe. But you never gave
us
a real chance.”

They’d been down this road a hundred times—a road that
led to nowhere. It was utterly pointless contemplating what might’ve been.
Randall loved her, and she’d lain awake many nights wishing she could
reciprocate those feelings. “It wouldn’t have worked between us, Rand.”

“And
you know this because…?”

“Because
I found the person I was meant to be with.”

“Ty”,
he stated flatly.

“Yes.”
Kendall slowly walked toward Randall, his back still turned. “There’s someone
out there for you, too, Rand; someone far better than me.”

“Forgive
me if I don’t share your optimism.”

Kendall’s
forehead thumped against his back. “Rand, please—I’m so sorry”, she whispered.
“Please don’t—”

The on-call phone beeped twice, indicating the presence
of an emergency. Randall couldn’t have been more thankful for the sudden
interruption. He walked several paces to his left and reached for the device
he’d haphazardly tossed onto the patio cushion earlier and pressed the
SPEAKER
button.

Static filled the small patio for several moments before
the dispatcher’s voice came over the line.

“Deputy District Ranger Rodgers from the Apalachicola
National Forest has just confirmed the
presence of a brush fire
located
approximately twelve miles Northwest of State Road Sixty-five in Tate’s Hell.
The fire is currently burning forty acres and with breezy conditions expected
over the next several days, he’s estimating the fire will continue to spread.
At this time, he’s requesting assistance from neighboring fire departments to
contain the brush fire.”

Randall reached into his front pocket for his keys and
then turned to face Kendall. “I’ve gotta take this.”

“I’m so s-sorry, Rand”, she murmured as a single tear
slid down her cheek.

As much as he wanted to be angry, he couldn’t—not when
she was visibly upset. That tear did him in. “Come here”, he said as he opened
his arms. Without hesitation she stepped forward, allowing him the opportunity
to hold her, comfort her, like he’d done so many times before.

Randall kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair as
her body shook with grief. “You’ll never lose me, Ken. I’ll always be here for
you—no matter what. I just… I just need some time, all right? Time to digest
this.”

Kendall pulled back, gazing into his steel-colored eyes,
assessing the sincerity of his affirmation. “Okay.”

With a final nod, Randall withdrew from the embrace,
knowing if he didn’t get away from her at that moment, he’d likely find himself
on his knees, begging for another chance.

Love
could make a man do crazy things.

“Please be careful out there”, she pleaded as he slid the
patio door open.

“I’m always careful, Babe”, he called over his shoulder.
“Take care of yourself…and that baby.”

How appropriate, he thought as he climbed into his black
Ford F-150. Today was Memorial Day. A day when the country celebrated and
honored fallen soldiers. A day renowned for recognizing the deaths of thousands
of men and women who’d died before their time.

And a day when any chance of a happy future with the
woman Randall loved died, too.

Chapter 1

“Okay, guys, here’s what we know”, Chief Handler began as
he leaned his large derriere against the small brush fire truck. “The fire is
believed to have been set unintentionally by a cigarette tossed from a car
traveling along one of the small access roads that run through the forest.

“As you know, we’re in the midst of a drought and conditions
out here are brutally dry. That, coupled with fifteen mile per hour winds, is
causing this brush fire to spread faster than a fleeing cockroach looking for a
hiding spot under a bright light! The Deputy District Ranger in charge is Ben
Rodgers. He’s asked us to border the Southwest portion of the fire. The goal is
simple: hold our ground and prevent the blaze from moving toward the town of
Apalachicola. Any questions?”

“Has the area been evacuated?” Jimmy Phillips asked.

“According to Rodgers: yes. But Tate’s Hell encompasses
over two-hundred thousand acres—kind of makes it difficult to say for certain.
So, be on the lookout for potential hikers and tourists.”

The smell of burning brush filled Randall’s lungs as he
listened to Chief Handler call out instructions. Visibility wasn’t bad. Yet.
But he knew that a sudden wind-shift could change conditions in a flash.

Per Chief’s orders, they were to pair-off and head
North by foot about a half-mile into the brush until they reached the
blaze.

Sounded easy enough.

Randall grabbed his tools from the small truck and
ventured into the pine forest with the man he thought of as the brother he
never had.

“Think we’ll end up like the legendary Tate?” Jimmy asked
as they ventured into the woodland.

In the late eighteen-hundreds, a local farmer by the name
of Cebe Tate, journeyed into the swamp-laden forest with nothing more than a
shotgun and a small pack of hunting dogs. His mission: kill the Black Panther
that’d been feasting on his livestock. Lost in the swampland for seven days and
seven nights, he was separated from his dogs, snake bitten, and forced to
survive by drinking the murky swamp water. When he finally came to a clearing
near the town of Carrabelle, he lived long enough to utter one last sentence: ‘
My
name is Cebe Tate, and I just came from Hell
.’ Since then the area became
known as Tate’s Hell: the Legendary and Forbidden Swamp.

“Nah, it’s just a legend.” At least he hoped that’s all
it was…

Trekking underneath rows of towering Longleaf and Slash
Pines, Randall listened to the crackle of bone-dry pine needles under his feet,
the snapping sound no match for the conversation replaying in his head.

I’m
moving in with Ty
…
I’m pregnant
…
We’re in love with each other
…
We’re sort of
engaged.

“You all right?” Jimmy asked as they moved deeper into
the forest. “You’re unusually quiet.”

“You trying to hint that I talk too much?” Randall
teased.

“No hints—you do talk a lot. You can pretty much strike
up a conversation with anybody. I’m tellin’ ya—I think you’re Chatty Debbie’s
long lost son!”

“Fuck
you, Phillips! That’s taking it a bit too far,
don’t you think?” Chief Handler’s wife, Debbie—
Chatty Debbie
, as
she was often referred as—could strike up a conversation with a complete
stranger (not that there were many of those around these parts). It wasn’t so
much that she liked to talk, but rather the odd subject matter she chose to
talk about.

Jimmy shrugged as he stepped around a patch of Palmettos.
“Probably… But I
did
get you talkin’ again.”

Roughly fifteen minutes later they arrived at their
destination, ready to begin the tiring process of establishing a defense line.
Over the crackle and roar of the flames, chainsaws revved and buffeting
helicopter blades bellowed above
.

It’d been nearly three months since the area had received
any significant rainfall, and the typical sponge-like ground was
uncharacteristically parched. Randall and Jimmy had devoted time and muscle
digging a firebreak along a narrow dirt road while another group cleared the
firebreak of flammable dead brush. It wasn’t a foolproof plan: the flames were
still capable of leaping through the canopies of the eighty-five foot pine
trees towering overhead. But cutting the two-hundred-year old pines was a last
resort.

“This is not how I expected to be celebrating this
holiday”, Jimmy uttered as he shoveled sand, dirt, and crisp pine needles from
the trench. “I should be at home with a pair of tongs in one hand and an
ice-cold beer in the other, manning the barbeque grill.”

“Afraid of a little hard labor?” Randall questioned with
a tinge of amusement.

Jimmy stuck the tip of the shovel in the ground and
leaned one of his forearms against the butt of the wooden handle. “You mean,
you’re actually enjoying this?”

“Not particularly.” Pretty bad when the muggy heat and
back-breaking labor weren’t enough to distract his mind away from Kendall.
Nope, it was safe to say he wasn’t enjoying a damn thing about today thus far.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Jimmy picked up his shovel
and resumed digging. “Hope Lana won’t be upset about me not wanting to dig-up
the flower beds this week; after today I think I might retire my shovel for the
rest of the year!”

“How ’bout I help you? We’d get done in half the time and
then we could head to The Saloon for a pitcher of beer.”

“I like the way you think, Brother!”

The
sun was minutes away from sinking beneath the
tree
line, causing the exhaustion from the debilitating work
day to nearly
cripple their tired bodies. In the distance, Grant and Tommy were dragging the
last bit of flammable brush across the trench, looking equally drained.

Randall reached for his radio and informed Chief Handler
that the fire break was in place and all ignitable debris had been moved to its
new location within the trench border.

“How’re the conditions lookin’ in your neck of the
woods?” Chief asked.

Randall scanned the area and then spoke into the radio.
“Relatively calm at the moment.”

“Well, let’s hope it stays that way. Ranger Rodgers just
informed me there’s a wind-shift expected as nightfall settles in. That means
there’s a pretty good chance the blaze will be headed in your direction.
Helicopter’s gonna be dousing your location in about twenty minutes, so gather
everyone and head back.”

“Yes, sir.”

Randall fastened the radio back onto his belt just as
Grant and Tommy approached. “They’re expecting a wind-shift soon; helicopter’s
on its way to drench this area as a preventative measure. We need to head
back.”

With tools in tow, the group retraced their steps toward
the access road approximately one half mile south of their current location.
Radiance faded as the day transformed into night. They walked in silence; the
crunching of boots colliding against dry pine needles lulling their tired
bodies, their pace noticeably slower than it had been hours earlier.

Randall’s body shook with exhaustion, but his mind was
restless. It’d been ten months since he’d made love to his best friend—ten
months, eight days, to be exact. And he’d spent every day since optimistic
about a repeat encounter.

Sure, she’d been seeing Ty for a while, but truthfully
Randall hadn’t expected the newly single guy to fall head-over-heels in love
with her. But then again, Kendall Porter was incredibly easy to love. And now
she and Ty were moving in together,
sort of
engaged, and expecting a
baby by year’s end.

How the hell had this happened? Okay, so he knew how it’d
happened, just didn’t really understand
why
.

The group had been hiking for roughly ten minutes when
the first wave of dark smoke wafted by, announcing the arrival of the impending
wind-shift. Buffeting helicopter blades echoed above them in the distance, in
route to the destination the guys had just abandoned. The wind speed had
increased as well, causing the pine canopies to sway, bend.

Randall’s motions were automatic, placing one foot in
front of the other, his thoughts solely focused on the catastrophic state of
his personal life, instead of his environment. He barely heard the loud snap
above him.

The next five seconds played out in slow motion. There
was a steady drum of footsteps behind him as Jimmy hollered in warning. Two
hands forcibly shoved Randall from behind, causing him to launch forward. His
hands instinctively stretched outward in an attempt to cushion the fall. And as
he collided against the parched earth, there was a loud cry behind him—a howl
Randall felt deep in his bones—followed by a thunderous crash. The impact
vibrated the ground beneath him. And as Randall turned he realized his day had
gone from bad to worse.

“Jimmy!” Randall cried as he stumbled back to his feet.

A large pine trunk pinned Jimmy’s body against the
brittle forest floor, his body face down, not moving. Clumsily Randall surged
toward his fallen friend, collapsing onto his knees as he halted beside him.
“Jimmy! Damn it, answer me!”

A low guttural groan fled Jimmy’s lips just as Grant and
Tommy surrounded them. Randall quickly rose to his feet motioning for help with
the fallen trunk. The log was approximately eight inches in diameter—not
terribly heavy—but awkward to handle as numerous small branches and sharp pine
needles bit into their flesh. The three of them removed the timber with
relative ease as adrenaline coursed through their veins. And after tossing the
tree aside, the three attended to their injured friend.

“Stay with us, man; you need to tell us where you’re
hurt”, Randall declared.

Jimmy’s breathing was shallow and erratic. Another
animal-like growl escaped his mouth as he desperately tried to suck air into
his lungs. “Can’t… feel my… legs”, he managed softly, panting.

Grant reached into his med pack for the small oxygen tank
and mask, and like a well-oiled machine, the three men carefully flipped Jimmy
onto his back making sure to keep his spine in alignment. Dark smoke and
poisonous gases carried by the steady torrid breeze would asphyxiate all of
them if they didn’t get out of there soon. Grant covered Jimmy’s nose and mouth
with the mask and turned the valve on the oxygen tank to the left, allowing
their injured brother to breathe clean air.

Tommy
reached for his radio and informed Chief
Handler
that Jimmy was injured, reciting the approximate location of where the rest of
the department would find them. “Help’s on the way, Jimmy”, he uttered
reassuringly. “Just try to relax and concentrate on your breathing.”

Fuck! Why was this happening
?

Randall knelt beside his best friend, carefully taking
his vitals, inwardly panicking at the results. Jimmy was suffering from
tachycardia—an increase in heart rate—and his breathing was still rapid and
shallow. His hands were clammy and his blood pressure was slowly dropping. In
other words, Jimmy was going into shock.

“This
is one hell of a way to get out of digging up those flower beds, Jimmy. I told
you I’d help out”, he teased, attempting to keep Jimmy’s mind off the pain and
keep him conscious.

Dirty
fingers slowly reached for the mask as Jimmy slid the plastic away from his
mouth. He was still struggling to breath, fighting to draw air into his lungs
as he looked into Randall’s eyes. “Please…”

“Don’t talk, Brother—just focus on breathing.” Instinctively,
Randall tried to replace the mask, but Jimmy weakly swatted at his hand.

Feebly, he shook his head. “Take care of… Lana and…
Conner… for me—”

“Huh-uh—don’t you dare! Don’t you dare start telling me
goodbye! You hear me?”

“Tell Lana I… love her and… Conner. Tell… them I’m
sorry…”

“No,
Jimmy, stay with me, man! You’re talkin’ crazy—just breathe. No more talking”,
he demanded soothingly.

“Promise… me, Randall. Promise me you’ll… look… after
them.”

Randall briefly closed his eyes, knowing deep down his
best friend wasn’t going to make it.
Accepting the
bone-chilling fact that he was
moments away from witnessing Jimmy’s last breath. What he wouldn’t do to trade
places with him—hell, this was supposed to be Randall lying here—not Jimmy. Not
the man with a five-year-old son and loving wife.

Not Jimmy
…

The next minute was torturous to watch. Jimmy’s breathing
become more rapid, shallow.

Irregular.

His heart rate accelerated as his blood pressure plummeted.

In the distance, Randall heard the crunch of heavy, hasty
footsteps as help arrived. “I promise”, he uttered as his vision clouded with
moisture.

And as if Jimmy had been hanging on to hear those two
words, he took one final breath. And then…