Flirting with Disaster (17 page)

I heard sirens in the distance, thankful help was on the way.

Running toward the room she usually worked in, I found her things, but she wasn't there. I slammed through any door I could find, and checked as much as I could. I had to catch my breath. The smoke scorched my throat and lungs, taunting them, making it impossible to breathe. I tugged the T-shirt off of my hand and covered my nose and mouth. That's when I saw her. My heart stopped.
 

She was not conscious, her eyes were opened but glassy. As I got closer, I kneeled next to her.
 
She'd been taped to a chair and was wet. I touched the clothing and smelled my fingers. Fuck! She had been doused in gasoline and flames were close. She could spontaneously combust just from embers in the air.

Nothing would stop me. Nothing would get in my way. I didn't have much time. I ripped out my pocketknife and cut the tape. She wouldn't be able to run on her own. I slung her over my shoulder in a fireman's carry and took a deep breath. I started to run the way I came, but the path was engulfed in flames.
 

The heat in the building had grown intense. I needed to get us out of. I turned and went for a window. It was our only chance. I'd have to break through or we'd succumb to the smoke. I'd started to choke, my throat closing, and losing my driving steam. Adrenaline carried us as I pushed with every ounce of energy in me.
 

I ran as fast as I could toward the window. I would go full force and slam it with my shoulder. Barbara was on the other shoulder, but we were going to hit the ground hard. If I didn't make it out of the building, we'd perish with it.
 

Smoke and flames chased us, smoldering ashes falling on my head. A partial image of my love’s clothes bursting into flames formed before I shoved it aside, took a deep breath, and smashed through the glass pane. It splintered into shards. We hurdled through the glass and landed with a thud on something softer than the ground. I opened my eyes, realizing we'd landed in the garbage dumpster out back. I screamed for help, and thankfully the little air left in my lungs was able to make enough noise for a fireman to find us.
 

I lifted Barbara out of the bin, handing her to the fireman. I couldn't stop the raging, protective beast in me. "Be careful with her."

"I've got her," he said, reassuring me she was safe.
 

"She's doused in gasoline, her clothes," I said, climbing out of the garbage dumpster.
 

"Let's get you some oxygen and we'll check her vitals," the man said.

Barbara started to come around with the fresh air finally getting to her head. "The crazy woman—she left me to die," she said, before passing out.
 

An EMT worked on Barbara, getting her oxygen and checking her pulse and blood pressure. They placed me beside her and put a mask on me. The oxygen cleared my lungs. I coughed as the toxic fumes left my body. I was stunned. Somebody—Annabelle? not only set the building on fire, but was out to murder Barbara. The police needed to find out who was responsible and now. As soon as she was feeling better, I'd see if she remembered anything, or if she recognized the person who did this to her. I needed her to feel safe, before I started prying.
 

I'd never wanted to hurt somebody more. God help the person when I find out...if I'd lost her...

For most of the day I dozed in and out. It was a good thing actually since I felt horrible. My head was killing me. The good news was I hadn't cracked my skull when the chair toppled over. The bad news was I had a huge throbbing lump on the back of my head.

Because I had never taken a sleeping pill, I didn’t recognize the effects of the mixture that Annabelle prepared for me. I was still groggy. In rare moments of clarity I wondered what would have happened if I hadn't poured half of it in the trash! And what if Ryder hadn't come looking for me? I shuddered in retrospect and went teary eyed every time I thought about it.
 

In my half daze, I also wondered how much damage the fire had done. One thing was certain, we wouldn't reopen. I needed to call my boss. I needed to call the clients to let them know delivery would not be made at all.
 

A nurse came in and silenced me before I had a chance to speak, "What you need is to rest and save your breath and then maybe we'll let you out of here tomorrow." Pulling the oxygen mask from my face, she invited me to get up. "In the meantime, what do you think about taking a shower?"

"Yes!” The enthusiasm in my voice made her laugh. “I would love a shower, the smell of smoke and gasoline are making me sick," I croaked.

Despite the fact she was much older than me and looked like a frail little thing, she had an iron grasp when she helped me up. She walked with me to the cubicle that served as a bathroom. It was a minuscule molded plastic cabin. A place where one could sit on the toilet with legs in the shower while brushing one's teeth over the sink. Nevertheless I had never been so happy to step in a shower, that is until the water made me realize I had dozens of tiny cuts along the back of my arms and on my shoulders.

Through the door left ajar, the nurse called out when I yelped. I reassured her and thank her for staying around while I did this. I was feeling woozy but so happy to be clean and no longer smothered by the smell of smoke. When I was done she took care of my cuts. Instead of the sting I expected, it was a soothing cream.
 

When she handed me one of my extra large T-shirts to replace the traditional hospital gown, I did a double take. "How did that get here?"

"Oh, your hubby. He brought stuff from home an hour ago," she explained and then with a conspiratorial tone she whispered, "You're a lucky woman. Handsome and attentive, what a great combination! When they brought you in, he wouldn't get checked on until he knew you were fine."

Her description of Ryder melted my heart. The man was my hero; he walked into a building on fire to save me!
 

"I am very lucky," I confessed as she helped me into bed and strapped the oxygen mask on my face. Just a shower, a few steps, and I was ready for another nap.
 

When I woke again it was night and I was in Ryder's arms. He squeezed himself next to me on my hospital bed. Two peas in a very tiny pod. It was tight but I adored the closeness.
 

"Hey, you," he said when I stirred. "How are you feeling?"
 

I looked up at him and drowned in his eyes. If tenderness had a color, this was it. I pulled the mask away and whispered, "Thank you." My voice was hoarse but he didn't seem to notice.
 

Smiling at me he brushed the hair from my face, I caught his heavily bandaged hand and brought it to my lips. "Is it bad?"

"Just a cut," he said and then shaking his head, he added, "Don't you ever do that again! You almost gave me a heart attack."

I frowned at him as if his request was unreasonable. Despite the fact my voice sounded like a bad imitation of Donald Duck, I managed a complete sentence. "Only if you promise that no matter how mad you are at me, you won't ever throw me in a dumpster again."
 

"Deal," he said and then he looked away, seeming so sad I instinctively reached out to cup his face with a hand and made me look at me.

"What's the matter?" I asked.
 

"Nothing." He shrugged and held me tighter. The cuts stung but the closeness was worth it.
 

"Come on," I urged. "You know you can tell me anything."

He looked at me and squinted. "I don't want you to leave."

Tears in my eyes, I hid my face in his neck. "Then I won't."

The silence was absolute.
 

So perfect I heard the sound of a clock ticking away the seconds. I hadn't even noticed there was a clock on the wall. Time passed ever so slowly. I waited and he didn't say a thing.
 

Doubting myself, I wondered if I had said it aloud. Had my voice not been loud enough? Had it been said in jest and now he was regretting it? I lifted my head not bothering to hide the tears anymore. His eyes were as shiny as mine and when he finally said something I understood he was just as overwhelmed by emotion as I was.

"Good. Now that's settled, go back to sleep."

I mocked punched him and protested. "Not if I don't get my goodnight kiss, I won't."

And kiss me he did.

I curled in next to Barbara as she slept. The hospital bed was barely wide enough to hold us both, but I made it work. I needed to be closer to her. I was almost afraid to let go. The reality of what we'd been through replayed in my mind. I could have lost her. She could have died. A lump grew in my throat. My eyes were on the verge of watering, but I forced myself to hold back. It wouldn't do either of us any favors if I broke. She needed my inner strength more than ever. She'd been through enough.
 

I only left the hospital long enough to get a few of her things, and refused treatment until I knew she'd be okay. There was no denying the feelings that rushed through my body. I was protective, concerned, and in love with the woman I wrapped myself around.
 

She stirred and then spoke softly, her voice still hoarse from the fumes. "Is it bad?"
 

We both held back tears that wanted to fall, but there was no hiding the fact my eyes glistened. I had been so scared.
 

When she stared into my eyes, she asked, "What's the matter?" I wasn't sure I could answer.
 

"Nothing." I wrapped her in my arms tightly.
 

"Come on," she said. "You know you can tell me anything."

She was going away soon, it was inevitable. Her work was done here. I croaked out the words, my eyes getting desperately close to shedding a tear. "I don't want you to leave."
 

It seemed to touch a nerve. She burrowed her face against me, trying to hide the fact she was crying. Soon, she lifted her chin slowly, she had small cuts all over her.
 

Barbara swallowed hard. "Then I won't."
 

The moment stood still. I lifted her oxygen mask off only enough to give her a small, tender kiss.
 

The moment was so sweet I wanted to make it last but she needed rest.

"Go to sleep," I whispered.

"I'm afraid to close my eyes. I'm afraid you'll be gone when I wake up." She looked into my eyes, seeking the truth.

I soothed her worries the best I was able. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not letting you out of my sight. I love you too much to take any chances."

She stared at me, almost as stunned as I was that those very words had been spoken. This time she reached up. She wiped the single tear that slid down my cheek. She held her words close, contemplating what to say. The last twenty-four hours had been overwhelming, and now this. Barbara trembled and then reached for my lips. She traced them as she whispered her very own version of I love you.
 

I'm not sure how or when it happened, but there was no going back. And I had no desire to backpedal and take my words back. It was true. I'd somehow fallen in love with her and knew she was my future...if we had any future in a rundown town with a lack of business.
 

Our moment was interrupted when my brother showed up. I wasn't expecting him. He knocked softly on the door of her hospital room before entering. "Hey, Dad said I'd find you here."
 

"Hunter," I said, not bothering to upright myself. I wasn't letting her out of my embrace. "What brings you here?"
 

"I'm heading out. I wanted to see you before I left. I almost dread going back, to be honest. Corporate life doesn't suit me, and I haven't been happy,” Hunter said.

“Then don’t go,” Barbara told him through her mask.

 
“I can’t stay, I've got to get home. I've got to pay my bills,” he confessed sadly. “It was great to see you and Dad. I need to get home more often, and you need to come out and visit me."
 

She lifted her mask, so he could hear her better. "We've got to figure out something together. I hadn't planned on staying either." She started to cough.

He came closer and stood at the edge of the bed. "I hope you're feeling better soon, Barbara."

She was about to say something more when I shushed her and put her mask back on her face.

"Shh, you shouldn't be talking that much." I turned my attention to my brother. "It was good to see you, man. I'm not going to lie; I miss you more than I thought I would. If you reconsider and want to come home, give me a shout and I'll put the word out, see about finding you work."

Barbara lifted her mask again. "The building is a loss. And if I'm going to stay, I'm going to need to find a way to get by. Would you consider taking on a real estate project with me?" She started to cough again.

"Lady," I said sternly, and put her mask back on. "Oxygen for you, and we'll discuss these ideas another day. Hunter, safe travels."
 

He'd grown up. He was never that much younger than me, but I still treated him like a kid for way too long. We both took losing Mom hard, but for him there were too many memories here. He thought if he was somewhere else, it would be easier to get on with his life. Me, I was afraid if I left, I'd lose the memories. Neither of our plans worked. We'd talked last night, sharing the select memories we had left of our mother. Dad smiled while reminiscing, and then got sad. We changed the topic before it got painful.
 

As he walked out of Barbara’s room, I jumped up and chased him. "I'll be back!"

Hunter turned as soon as he heard me and gave me a giant bear hug.
 

"Don't go," I said. "Barbara is right. We'll figure something out. There's so much potential here. If you have to leave, do it to give your two weeks' notice. I can't promise we'll be stinking rich, but we'll keep afloat long enough that you'll be able to decide if you want to stick around longer or leave. You said you flip homes on the side. Why can't we do that here? Between the three of us, we can make it work. Maybe even Dad can join in when he's feeling better. At least toss the idea around. Think about it. We'll hash it out and see if we can make it a reality."