Authors: Jennifer Bernard
Neither exit was usable. He had to get Danielle out. Desperately he scanned the interior. The Hair of the Dog wasn’t big on windows. The only one he knew of was a little dormer window hidden behind a black curtain on the wall facing the side street. He ran to the wall and felt the plaster. Warm, but not hot the way it would be if the fire was running the walls.
Thank God.
The window was placed high on the wall, a few feet over his head. “Danielle, I have to put you down for a second.”
Her arms tightened around his neck. “It’ll just take a second, honey.” He peeled her arms off and set her down near him. “This is going to be so much fun, Dani. I’m going to kick a hole through the plasterboard and we can crawl out like it’s a tunnel. What do you think of that?”
She clapped her hands together and nodded eagerly.
“Okay, here goes.” He swiveled and aimed a hard kick at the wall. The plasterboard dented. Another kick made the hole deeper, deep enough to see that the wall was unexpectedly thick. This was going to take a little longer than he’d hoped.
He glanced at Dani and knew with sudden finality that they didn’t have any more time. Her face had turned pale except for the black soot around her nostrils and mouth.
Smoke inhalation.
On top of her asthma. If he didn’t get her out, now, she would die.
They’d have to go out the window.
He ran to a table and dragged it under the window. “Okay, Dani, change of plans. I’m going to give you a piggyback ride instead. How does that sound? I’m going to slide you around to my back. All you have to do is hold tight to my shoulders. Not my neck, my shoulders. Got it?”
She managed a nod. “Good girl.” He gave her his biggest smile, the one that made women of all ages swoon. “Your dad and your mom would be really proud of you right now. Really proud. Here we go now.”
He shifted her to his back and felt her arms come around him. He heard her frantic little breaths in his ear. The sound scared the crap out of him.
Just keep breathing, keep breathing.
With the little girl clinging to his back, he climbed onto the table. He pulled aside the black curtain. Dim and coated with grease, the window had no obvious latch.
“Duck your head behind my back, sweetie!” he shouted. When he felt her snuggle her head against his back, he wrapped the black fabric around his fist and slammed it against the window. It shattered in a shower of glass. One shard landed in his forearm. He brushed it away, then knocked out the remaining pieces of glass still lodged in the window frame.
He stuck his head out the window. The street was empty. He looked right, then left. Fire licked around both corners of the building. He didn’t have much time. It was roughly a ten-foot drop to the ground. A slight down slope led away from the building. He could squeeze Danielle out the window, but he couldn’t just toss her onto the ground. He needed someone to catch her.
“Help!” he shouted, but his voice came out hoarse and weak from the smoke. “Got a little girl here!” he tried again.
Nothing. Where were the rubberneckers, the civilians who loved to watch fires? People must be keeping their distance. Or maybe they were all gathered out front.
Only one option. He spoke over his shoulder. “Here’s what we’re going to do, Danielle. You need to be super brave, okay? I’m going to pull you up so you’re sitting on this window frame. I want you to hold tight to the frame the whole time. Don’t let go, no matter what. Then I’m going to pull myself up, I’m going to give you a big hug, and we’re going to fly to the ground. After that, we’re going to run for help. All you have to do is hug me tight. Got it?”
Tears streamed from her reddened eyes. Damn smoke. He didn’t wait for a yes, just hoisted her up and clamped her shaking hands onto the window frame. He pinned her with his gaze while he pulled himself up, willing her to stay put. Pieces of glass dug into his palms. At least they’d gotten him, not her. When he was sitting on the frame, he pulled her into his lap then lifted his legs to squeeze them through the window so he faced the street.
He hugged her close and felt her cling tightly to him. If only he had his padded firefighter’s coat, he could have wrapped her in it and cushioned her fall. But he didn’t. All he had was himself.
Please God, let it be enough
. “That’s good, darlin’. Squeeze me tight, like your favorite teddy bear. Or do you like those Uglydolls? They’re pretty cute, if you ask me . . .” And he launched himself into nothingness. He had one goal. Keep his body beneath hers. Let her land on top of him.
And she did. Right after his back slammed into the ground and the world went as black as the inside of the Hair of the Dog
.
E
ven unconscious, Ryan was the best-looking man in the intensive care unit. It didn’t bother Katie that all the nurses kept making excuses to come in and change his pillow or adjust his bed. Some of them had treated him before. Apparently he was no stranger to the Good Samaritan. As long as they let her sit next to him, holding his hand and sobbing into his blanket when no one was looking, she didn’t care what they did.
Anyway, they all thought she was his sister. For once, a lie had been absolutely mandatory.
“Ryan,” she whispered as soon as the busty blonde nurse had left. “I need to tell you something again. Maybe you can’t hear me. Or maybe you can. Doctors don’t know everything. Just in case you can, Ryan.” She cleared her throat. This was hard, even if he was in a coma. “I love you.”
His eyelids didn’t so much as flicker.
“This is all my fault, and when you wake up you’re probably going to hate me. But I’ll still love you. Forever.”
The tall nurse with the French twist pulled aside the curtain separating Ryan’s bed from the neighboring one. She wore pretty sapphire earrings. Had she been wearing them earlier? It suddenly occurred to Katie that if all the nurses were trying to look good for Ryan, that must mean they believed he’d come out of the coma. Katie gave her a huge, relieved smile.
“How’s he doing?” the nurse asked, picking up the chart at the foot of his bed.
“Seems about the same.”
“Hm.” She checked his pulse. “He’s hanging in there. Dr. Kinder says he’s in good health, especially considering his history. He’s been in here a few times before. That leg should heal quickly. His ribs too.”
Katie winced. His fall from the window had broken four of Ryan’s ribs and his right tibia. He’d also suffered a small fracture on the back of his skull, since he’d landed backward to cushion Dani’s fall. The resulting small bleed in his brain had the doctors worried. They’d put him into a chemically induced coma so they could evaluate him and fix his tibia. They kept mentioning things like ICP and potential damage to his optic nerve. When they talked that way, Katie wanted to scream.
“Quite a hero, your brother. That little girl didn’t get a single scratch.”
“Yes.” Katie managed a smile.
“Ella Joy from Channel Six keeps calling the hospital to see if she can interview your brother. What should I tell her?”
“That it might be kind of boring to interview a guy in a coma.”
The nurse smiled at that. “Can I get you anything?”
Katie shook her head. She suspected the nurse’s kindness stemmed from a desire to ingratiate herself with Ryan’s “sister,” but she appreciated it nonetheless. “I just want him to be okay.”
“We’re doing everything we can. He’s in great physical shape, which should help. Is anyone else . . . um . . . planning to visit him?”
“I don’t know,” Katie said absently. Would his father come? He’d never mentioned any other family members. It made her sad. If she were in a hospital bed, her entire family would be shuttling in and out, day and night.
The nurse gave a satisfied smile and put the chart back. “He’s in good hands, don’t worry.”
“Thanks.”
“Sorry about the Hair of the Dog,” the nurse said as she slipped through the opening in the curtain. “I went there with my dad once, a long time ago.”
“Thanks.”
Alone again with Ryan, Katie rested her cheek on the firm muscle of his upper arm. Warmth radiated from his skin. She touched his bandaged hand. The doctors had taken out dozens of slivers of glass. The thought of his hands, so tender, so knowledgeable, shredded by glass made her want to rip her own skin off.
“I should have been there,” she whispered to his silent form. “It should have been me. All of this is because of me.”
The sight of his still, damaged body had shocked her into a state of crystal-clear comprehension. Not about the fact that she loved him. That was old news, even though it had taken her a while to admit it. But she suddenly understood that her failure to do something very basic, very normal, and very necessary had put Ryan in the hospital.
She’d been doing things all wrong.
T
he Dane family gathered at the smoking, blackened wreckage of what had been the Hair of the Dog. It stank. Katie covered her nose to shield it from the stale smoke and strange chemical scents that floated from the debris. Jake and Todd kicked at the edges of the Dog’s remains, as if the crime scene tape were a personal challenge. Some things had survived, like the nonfunctioning jukebox and a few bar stools.
The office was a total loss, as was the kitchen. The fire had consumed the back part of the building as though it were the devil’s candy.
Frank Dane seemed mesmerized. “Never woulda thought it. The Dog, gone.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Her father’s face, when he’d first seen the disaster, had been the hardest moment for Katie.
“It’s not your fault, Gidget.”
Katie looked away. She didn’t know how the fire had started, but one thing she knew. It certainly was her fault.
“I should never have put you in charge. Big responsibility.”
Katie gritted her teeth, but before she could answer, Bridget stepped in.
“Dad,” said Bridget sharply. “Katie did a great job with the bar. You know she did.”
The idea that Bridget would champion her rendered Katie momentarily mute. Nina Dane, her arm locked with her husband’s, nodded in agreement, gazing on the charred wreckage with a look of satisfaction. “We owe Katie our thanks, Frank. The Lord works in mysterious ways. After all, the place is insured.”
Frank started. “Is it? What’s the date? July 28. Yes. Policy runs out end of the month. We’re fine.” A broad smile wreathed his face.
Katie did a double take. “You remember about the insurance, Daddy?”
“Of course. Important stuff.”
“Then why didn’t you help me with it? You let me worry about it all by myself.”
Her father looked at her as if she’d spoken in a foreign language.
“Figured you had it handled. You would have come to me if you needed anything.”
“Mom wouldn’t let me.”
Nina bristled under the weight of her husband’s red-faced frown. “How could I? You needed rest. No stress, remember? You needed your gnomes.”
“What do gnomes have to do with it? Don’t blame the gnomes,” Frank roared.
“I’m not blaming the gnomes,” Nina roared back. “I’m not blaming anyone. But your health—”
“I’m not an old man, for Chrissakes.”
“Look at you, just talking about this is sending your blood pressure up.”
“Stop!” Katie burst out. “Listen to me!”
Everyone went silent. For the first time she could remember, Katie was the sole focus of her family’s astonished attention. “I never wanted to run the bar. I never should have done it.”
“But you did it so well.” Her mother launched into a protest.
Katie held up her hand for silence, which, astonishingly, worked. “I never. Wanted it. But I was afraid to walk away. I didn’t want to let you down. I didn’t do a very good job with it. The only thing I did right was hire Ryan. He tried to help me. No one else did. And now look where he is.”
Suddenly tears dribbled down her face.
“Honey!” Her mother left her father’s side and pulled her into a hug. “It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself.”
Huge sobs shook Katie’s entire body. All the pent-up worry and pressure came pouring out. “But . . . but . . .”
Her father put his arms around the two of them. “You should have told me you didn’t want the bar. I figured it would be more fun than some stuffy university.”
“But . . .”
“How could she, when she knew your health was at stake? For shame, Frank.”
“It’s okay . . .” Katie fought to squeeze out some words between the sobs. She didn’t want her parents to blame themselves. That wasn’t the point at all. She had something important to say, and instead of spitting it out, she was crying in her parents’ arms.
“I thought she enjoyed the Drinking Crew and all the crazy high jinks at the old place.” Her father’s voice rumbled over her head. The entire conversation seemed to be taking place over her head.
“I . . . I did . . .” she squeaked.
“Having a handsome young barkeep didn’t hurt either.”
“Oh please, Dad, that probably made it worse.” Bridget chimed in. “It’s obvious she has a crush on him.”
That did it. Katie tore herself away from the group hug and confronted her family. “I can speak for myself. Dad, I like the Drinking Crew.” Hiccup. She gripped her fists tightly, determined to say what she had to say. “Working at the bar wasn’t all bad. But it’s not what I want to do with my life. Yes, I should have said so from the beginning. It’s true I didn’t like grad school that much. But that’s not the point. You shouldn’t have dumped the whole thing on me without offering any help at all.”
Her parents looked thunderstruck. Frank slowly nodded. “You’re right there, Katie girl. As a matter of fact, you’re making some very good points.”
“And Bridget.” She whirled on her sister, who stood with one hand on her hip, watching the whole scene with openmouthed amazement.
“I don’t have a ‘crush’ on Ryan. I’m not twelve. I love him.” She put every ounce of her heart into that statement. She saw Bridget register her seriousness, as if she’d put on lipstick for the first time, or something equally grown-up. “He’s probably going to hate me now that he’s in a coma, I mean, when he wakes up from his coma. But that doesn’t change anything. I’ll still love him.”
She saw pity flash across Bridget’s beautiful face, which enraged her.
“And just so you know, we’ve slept together.”
Her mother gasped. She didn’t dare look in her parents’ direction. “Like I said, I’m not twelve. I’m a grown woman and for some reason, Ryan is the only one who seems to recognize that.” She gave a sweeping gesture toward the Hair of the Dog. “Everything that happened here is my responsibility. I’m not a particularly good bar manager, but the point is,
I’m not a child
.”
“Well.” Her parents looked at each other. Nina Dane shrugged daintily. “I suppose it’s a good thing this happened before the insurance ran out then. How much is the policy for?”
Frank Dane puffed up his chest. Katie gestured for him to take center stage. “One. Million. Dollars. Can’t say I wasn’t thinking ahead.”
Bridget and Nina gasped. Nina stepped back, her hand fluttering to her throat. “A million dollars? We could buy that condo in Baja.”
“I could make a gnome convention center.”
“I could open my own gym,” Bridget chimed in. She let out a spurt of delighted laughter.
Frank whirled Nina into a quick waltz. “Didn’t I always say I’d take care of you? That the bar wasn’t a big waste of time?”
“I take it all back, my dear,” laughed Nina. “Every bad thing I ever said about the Hair of the Dog.”
Bridget already had her cell phone out, ready to call her friends. “Katie,” she said, barely glancing up from it. “I take back everything I ever said about the bar. And you.”
Scowling, Katie weighed whether or not to take offense at that. Best to move on, she decided. Why get stuck in the quarrels of the past? She was a new woman, with a new approach to her life. “Woman” being the operative word. “Thank you, Bridget. I appreciate that.”
Bridget graced her with a glowing smile and began talking into her phone.
“Jake and Todd, ya hear this?” Frank bellowed toward the twins.
“Hang on, Dad,” Jake shouted from the spot where the front door had once been. “There’s a dude here asking a bunch of questions.”
Katie turned sharply. Her brothers had stopped kicking at scorched chair legs and fallen fake timbers, and stood with a man in a gray business suit. For a dizzy moment, Katie thought it was Carson Smith. Maybe he’d decided to do the job after all, since she’d given him the money. And then hung around to boast about it.
But this man was thinner, slightly hunched, mostly bald. He was taking notes in a very official-looking notebook.
As if moving in slow motion, Katie headed toward the three of them. The smell of the burning debris got even stronger the closer she came. She sneezed. Jake shot her a queasy smile.
“Here’s the one you want to talk to,” he said to the man. “This is my sister Katie. She’s been running the bar for my dad while he recovered from a heart attack. Katie, this guy’s from . . . where are you from?”
The man held out a scrawny hand. “Fidelity Trust. I’m a claims adjustor. Bill Feldman.”
Katie shook his hand, knowing hers was ice cold. “Thanks for coming by. We’re still in shock over the fire.”
“Fires are a bad business. Very bad. I’m sorry for your family’s loss. You aren’t Francis Q. Dane, I take it.”
“No. That’s my father. But could we, I mean, the bar’s my responsibility. He’s supposed to be avoiding stress. I can answer any questions you might have.”
He assessed her over the top of his rimless glasses. He had surprisingly nice eyes, she noticed. A pleasant amber color. “Very well then. Are you familiar with all the employees?”
She relaxed. Questions about employees posed no challenge. “Yes. We only have two.”
“Do you have anyone on staff with expertise in fires? Say, a volunteer fireman of some sort?”
The world seemed to stop turning. She felt the bright sun beat down on her head, caught a glimpse of a boy riding past on a Razor scooter, craning his neck at the wreckage. “Why do you ask?”
“The question is part of my investigation.” Now his amber eyes no longer looked nice. They looked reptilian. “I suggest you answer.”
Todd piped up. “Ryan used to be a fireman, didn’t he? At the San Gabriel firehouse.”
“Ryan?” The claims adjustor jotted it down with a blue ballpoint pen. “Last name?”
“Blake,” said Katie, mechanically. “He was injured in the fire. He’s in the hospital right now.”
“So he was here when the fire broke out?” Another note in his book.
“Yes, he was here. He had a little girl with him. He dove out the side window to save her. He nearly died.”
“Interesting.” More jotting.
Katie was starting to hate ballpoint pens. Not to mention claims adjustors. Was the man trying to imply something about Ryan? “Yes, it’s an interesting story. So interesting Channel Six wants to interview him because he’s such a hero.”