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Building Up to Love

Page 3

by Joanne Jaytanie


  Travis woke and found Laura wrapped around him. She was all feminine and soft supple curves. If his blasted body didn’t ache from head to toe, this would be the perfect moment. He tried to remain still and soak in her essence while her guard was down. He knew the instant she came awake. Her arms stiffened, she winced, and then she slowly backed away from him.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “I hoped I dreamed all this.”

  “Nope, still here. At least there’s some light from the basement windows and we left the basement door open. It’s not much, but we will be able to see more as the day wears on. How are you feeling?”

  “Bit of a headache and sore. How’s your leg?” Laura asked.

  “Not happy. Everything is stiff and it throbs with any move I make.”

  “Look at all those shelves. They’re old. How long do you think they’ve been down here? Can you tell by the construction?” Laura slowly rose to her feet and walked over to the shelves. One set of shelves held a few canning jars filled with a dark liquid. She picked up one of the jars and took it back to where Travis sat. “What do you think this is? Looks pretty nasty.”

  “My first guess: one-hundred-year-old house, secret room—moonshine.”

  Laura cracked the jar and took a small sniff. She coughed. “Oh my goodness.” She handed it to Travis. He opened it and took a whiff.

  “Wow. I bet it could take the paint off of a car. How long has this house been in your family?”

  “My family built the house.”

  “Well, well, Ms. Tate. Seems your lineage includes bootleggers.”

  They both laughed.

  “I’ll need to do some research. It would be an interesting angle for my Bed & Breakfast. Do you think we can salvage this and keep it open for tours?”

  “Sweetie, you are a true businesswoman at heart. It will take loads of inspection and special permits, but if anyone can do it, I can.”

  “There must be a way out of here. We only need to locate it. Maybe a tunnel or something. Now that there’s more light, I can conduct a more complete search,” she said.

  “Let me go with you,” Travis said, as he tried to get up and moaned.

  “No.” Laura gently pushed him back down. “If you stumble, you could start bleeding again, or move the piece of wood. Let me go look. I’ll come back and report to you everything I find.”

  “You were quick,” Travis said, when she returned a few minutes later.

  “There are six rows of shelves and the door. I tried again to get the door open, but it’s still stuck, or there’s something blocking it; but it’s our only way out of this place.”

  “Come sit down for a bit and rest. You look pale. After a while you can help me get up and then we can go try the door together,” Travis said. “Sit down and take your mind off your aches and pains. Tell me Ms. Tate, ever think about spreading your wings and leaving Vine Grove?”

  “I did. I followed my high school boyfriend and went to college in California. He graduated a couple years ahead of me. He got a job with a finance company in San Francisco a couple hours away and I went to his loft on the weekends. One weekend it was his birthday and I wanted to surprise him. There was a surprise all right. I heard the music playing clear down at the end of the hall when the elevator doors opened. I used my key and went into the loft. I should have known. Something didn’t feel right, but I shrugged it off. Even when I saw the two wine glasses sitting on the island, it didn’t register. I trusted him. The door to the bedroom was open and I walked back. I found him and his assistant in bed. He saw me. Can you believe he actually tried to blame me? I threw his key at him and left the loft and his life.”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t dated anyone seriously since.”

  “No, I date, casually. I’m not looking for anything serious at this point.”

  “You seem to do a lot of dating for not wanting serious.”

  “It’s my girlfriends’ doing. I hadn’t dated in over five months. They thought it was time I did. Personally, the way it’s going lately, I think it’s a waste of time. Enough about me, how long are you here to stay?”

  “I haven’t decided. Although I think my grandparents are on to something here. Of course my father is fit to be tied. He wants me home and back to work at the company, yesterday. I keep telling him I can do what I need to do via Skype, but he doesn’t agree. Yes, the firm is a family business. I’m third generation. I got my architectural degree to make him happy. But I’m not made for the office. I want to be in the field, work with my hands. I’ve really enjoyed this old house. I think I’d like to specialize in historical houses.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Wait one minute. You’re an architect?” Laura asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “No, I didn’t. You never asked me. And after I heard your opinion of them I figured it would be best if I kept that piece of information to myself. See we’re not all stuffy,” he waggled an eyebrow at her.

  “You should have told me.” Laura felt betrayed. If she could escape the room she would.

  “I’ve done a good job for you and I will continue to do so. It’s just a title, nothing more. You can’t judge me by a title. All architects are not the same. You’re not being fair.”

  She was embarrassed. She hated when others judged people based on shallow ideals, and didn’t think herself capable of such things. “You’re right. I sincerely apologize for my actions. It’s not in my nature to judge others. I hope you will forgive me.”

  “You’re forgiven. I hope you forgive me for deceiving you. I really wanted this project. I love this Victorian, thank you.”

  She noticed Travis appeared pasty. She reached over and put her hand on his forehead. “Geeze, you’re burning up. I think you have an infection. We need to find a way out of here.”

  “Yeah, I’m not feeling all that great. Help me up and let’s see if we can get the door open.”

  She struggled under the weight of his body. It seemed as though it took hours to get him to the door. He tried the knob; it turned, but the door wouldn’t give.

  “Door’s blocked,” he groaned. “It’s safer not to force it. It could only be a few shelves, or it could be a cave-in. We don’t want to disturb anything until we acquire the proper equipment. Let’s go back.”

  The two of them dropped to the ground. “I would kill for a couple aspirin and a glass of water right now,” Laura said.

  “Do me a favor,” Travis mumbled, his eyes closed. “Don’t mention water, or for that matter, aspirin.” Five minutes later he snored softly.

  Laura leaned over and lightly placed her palm across his cheek, which felt both clammy and warm at the same time. She needed to get him out of here, the sooner the better.

  She looked around the room again for some rope or a chair. She walked between the shelves. A couple of boards lay on the ground, but she needed something more. What can you do with a couple of boards? Something was stacked in a dark corner but she couldn’t really make it out. She walked closer and had to keep from squealing with joy when she realized she’d found four wooden crates. She dragged two of the crates out and situated them under the hole in the floor. Then she went back to where she saw the two boards and laid both boards across the crates. She grabbed the last two crates and put one on top of the boards. She estimated it would give her nearly four feet. She stood five-feet-five inches and hoped she’d be able to reach the basement floor with only the three crates.

  Laura looked back at Travis. He looked wretched. He was going into shock and every second counted. She checked the crates and the boards; everything appeared balanced. Laura took in a deep breath and stepped up onto the first level. The boards creaked with age and she waited until they settled into place. She stepped up onto the top crate all
the while making sure her body weight was distributed evenly. She reached her arms straight out to her sides and used them to balance. She remained quiet while the crates and boards settled. Ever so slowly she lifted her arms up and reached for the floor above. Her palms hit the broken wood and she looked up. It would take every ounce of willpower and strength she possessed to lift herself up.

  Laura willed her body up, but every attempt failed. She was scant inches from reaching her goal. She carefully climbed down from the stack and searched the room for one more board. Nothing. She tried to pull a board from the shelves, but no luck. She did find one last crate on her search. She returned and decided on her only option. She pulled one of the boards out from under the single crate and repeated the first level by placing two crates on the second board. Then she took the last board and placed it on top of these crates and gently positioned the final crate on top of the last board. This would give her more than enough height, if she could make it to the top without breaking her neck, and if the splintered floor above held under her weight.

  She walked back to Travis. He was out of it. He felt hotter to her touch and a thick sheen of sweat coated his entire face. She knew she must go now. Without another thought, Laura started up her mountain of crates. She crawled up onto the top crate, and then was forced to hold on tightly as the whole stack teetered precariously. She slowed her breathing and balanced herself. The movement slowed, then stopped. Inch by painstaking inch, she stood up. Her head and shoulders cleared the floor, but she’d stacked the crates about a foot away from the broken floor boards. It was too late to make any adjustment. She reached out and laid her arms over the floor and proceeded to pull herself up, but when she pushed forward, she lost purchase with the crates. She realized what was happening and tried to stabilize her crate mound, but only succeeded in knocking the mountain of crates to the floor, leaving her dangling in mid-air.

  Laura scrambled as boards splintered and broke, yet still she kept moving ignoring the searing agony that tore through her fingers and arms. She couldn’t let go. If she did, Travis might die. Heck, she might break her neck.

  “Laura…come on, Laura. This whole thing is your idea. Yoga in the park starts in thirty minutes. You were supposed to meet me at the corner coffee stand.”

  “Chloe?” Laura had forgotten this was the Saturday she and Chloe agreed to start yoga in the park. “Chloe!”

  “Laura? Where are you?”

  “Down here, in the basement.”

  “What are you doing in the basement?” Chloe asked, as she started down the stairs. “This whole yoga thing is your idea. Don’t even tell me you forgot.” She got to the bottom of the stairs and looked around. “Stop playing games, we’re going to be late. Where are you?”

  “Over here. Hurry, Chloe, please.”

  Laura watched as Chloe ran toward her and stopped short as she looked down and saw her.

  “What on earth happened?”

  “I’ll explain later. I can’t hold on much longer,” Laura said.

  Chloe started forward.

  “Be careful. It might give way.”

  Chloe stopped abruptly and looked around for something to use. The only thing she saw was an old sheet. She grabbed the sheet and tied a knot in each end. She tossed one end to Laura as she held tight to the other.

  “Grab it, and I’ll pull you up.”

  Laura reached for the sheet with her last bit of strength and Chloe pulled her to safety.

  “Oh my goodness, Laura, we need to get you to the hospital. The cut on your head looks bad and your hands are a mess. What happened? How long have you been down there?”

  “We need to call 9-1-1. Travis is down there. A piece of floor plank went through his calf, he has a fever, and now he’s unconscious.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Laura, you need to go back to bed,” Becca said.

  Laura woke up, her neck was stiff and sore from falling asleep in the chair.

  “How’s Travis?”

  “The next twenty-four hours will be critical. He’s on heavy antibiotics. He’ll come around, but it will take his body time to heal and regenerate. Thank goodness you were with him. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

  “It’s my fault.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s my house.”

  “That doesn’t make it your fault. It was an accident. No one’s fault. A house that old is bound to have issues. Travis understood this when he took the job. Now, do I need to call your nurse, or are you going to go back to bed?”

  “Why can’t I go home?” Laura asked.

  “Because you have a concussion and you can’t spend the night alone. We pulled over twenty-five pieces of wood out of your hands and arms. You are also on intravenous antibiotics. In case you didn’t notice, that’s the bag following you around. You don’t want to develop a major infection, believe me,” Becca said.

  “Man, you are one tough doctor.”

  “Don’t you forget it. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your room,” she said with a giggle.

  Laura woke in a state of pure panic. She felt the bed around her, worried that the quicksand in her nightmare would pull her under. Nothing. Not a grain. She looked around the darkened room wondering where she was. The hospital—Becca’s hospital. Somehow the thought made her feel safer. Silently she got out of bed, crept to the door and peeked out. She could see a couple of nurses down the hall at the nurses’ station. She waited for a little while and looked out again. One nurse left and the other sat with her back to Laura. She slid out of her room and hurried down the hall.

  Travis slept peacefully. She watched him for a bit. Without a thought, she reached down and took hold of his hand.

  “You better wake up soon. This is no time to dally. Please Travis…if you don’t wake up I will never forgive myself.”

  She pulled the chair up to the side of the bed and sat down. Once again she took hold of his hand and rested her head on the side of the bed. She felt herself drifting off to sleep.

  * * * *

  Travis could feel himself slowly float to consciousness. Part of him wanted to stay under, away from the pain. But he could feel Laura’s pain—her emotional pain—and felt he might be the cause of it. He couldn’t allow himself to be the cause of her pain. He would fight his way back and deal with what might come, for her sake.

  He gradually opened his eyes and took stock of his body. He ached, but didn’t hurt nearly as bad as he had when he was down in the hole. He rolled his shoulders and noticed his right hand felt weighted down and warm. He turned his head and found Laura asleep with her cheek and hands covering his hand. He frowned as he saw both her hands and forearms covered in gauze. Then a smile spread across his lips, and he reached over with his free hand and cautiously pushed the mass of long, satiny golden blonde locks away from her face. Her hair felt like velvet flowing through his hand. Laura woke and her face flushed, turning bright fuchsia.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Travis said.

  “I’m glad you did. I’m thrilled you woke up. How do you feel?”

  “Better. What happened to your hands?”

  “That’s right, you were out cold when I built my mountain and nearly climbed out.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Becca leaned against the doorway and waited for Laura to finish the story for Travis.

  “You are one of my most difficult patients. You’re lucky you are my friend or I would pawn you off on another doctor. Back to your room, I want to take a look at your hands, Wonder Woman,” Becca said.

  Travis gently took hold of Laura’s upper arm before she could leave.

  “Thanks for getting me out of there. I was supposed to save you.”

  “Next
time,” Laura said, with a smile.

  * * * *

  “What’s the verdict, doc?” Laura asked.

  “Very funny,” Becca said. “Admit it. You do like Travis. I could see it in your body language and hear it in the tone of your voice.”

  “It’s a moot point now. He works for me. I can’t date someone who works for me.”

  “He is not a permanent employee. This job will come to an end and you will be free to date. For now there’s nothing saying you can’t flirt and build a relationship. Let him know you’re interested.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Becca shook her head. “Your loss, he’s a hunk. Anyway, your hands and arms are starting to heal nicely. I can send you home with a couple of prescriptions. As long as you clean the cuts and keep them wrapped, you should be fine. I’ll sign your discharge papers and you can leave this afternoon. Chloe brought clothes for you to wear home. She put them in the closet. She said to call her when you’re ready to go and she’ll come and get you.”

  “Thanks, Becca. You’re a wonderful friend. Will Travis be discharged today too?”

  “No, I want to keep him overnight. If he continues to improve though, I’ll let him go tomorrow. He should be able to return to work the following day. No physical labor for a week though. You see to it his guys pick up the slack and he stands on the sidelines. Got it?”

  “I will. Thanks again.”

 

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