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Rescue Me (a quirky romance novel about secrets, forgiveness and falling in love)

Page 8

by Allan, Sydney


  Did he want her to stay longer? Was that regret she heard in his voice? She refused to turn around and look at him as another wave of heat shimmied down her body. She could feel him. He was close.

  "Yeah, you have a point. I guess I could handle a slight delay." She stepped forward before turning around. When she saw him, her face flamed. He wore a pair of sweats and a tank top, one of those white ones that cling to every ripple and plane. Did he look good! "I have a business waiting for me, you understand."

  He smiled. "Sure, I do. But what'll a little breakfast hurt?"

  "Fine." She hesitated, not wanting to force by him. She stood in the corner, next to the front door, her wallet in her hand, her purse sitting on the narrow table. He blocked her egress in any direction. When had the man become so big? She tipped her head toward the kitchen. "Why don't you go ahead. Get things ready. I'll be there in a minute."

  "Sure." He lingered for a moment, studying her. She nodded again, and he turned, walking with a slow, deliberate stride. Before he went around the bend in the hallway, he said over his shoulder, "I'll call for a cab. It'll be here by the time we're done eating. They take forever in these parts."

  "Thanks," she said, stuffing her wallet into her purse and following him to the kitchen. She stood inside the doorway and watched him as he gathered their breakfast. His hair was slightly rumpled, and she had the instant impulse to reach out and smooth it back in place, to feel its silken softness.

  To her chagrin, she also noticed something else. The way his biceps cut lean lines in his arms when he reached overhead to get a glass from the cupboard. When he lowered his arm, the muscles of his shoulders tensed and flexed. Her pulse quickened, and she turned away, sitting at the glass-topped dinette table and looking out the French door. She was being an idiot gawking at him!

  "Orange-pineapple or apple?" he asked as she stared at the stained cedar deck and the lush green beyond.

  "Apple. Thanks."

  "Plain or salt?" he asked from closer.

  "Salt." She tried to ignore the unwelcome rush of awareness. It was as though her entire body was tuned into him. An electric hum filled the air. Soft, almost indiscernible. What the heck? She turned toward the sound.

  He stood at the counter, in front of the toaster. She jumped at the sudden pop as it spit out the bagels. Then she chuckled to herself and looked outside again. A tiny brown bird swooped from above and landed on the deck railing. It called out a cheery song then took flight again.

  "Cream cheese?"

  She looked at him and another wave of head crept to her face. What was wrong with her? Was she running a fever? She nodded. "Yes, cream cheese."

  He leaned close as he set the plate before her, then turned and went to the counter to make his own. Thankful for the distractions, she spread a thick layer of cream cheese and tried to will the troubling feelings away. When that didn't work, she decided there was only one way to get rid of them.

  When he sat across from her and tossed her a casual grin, she asked, "Were you and Heidi lovers?" When he said yes, as she expected he would, surely her ridiculous reactions to him would cease.

  "No. Never." He sipped his juice and set the glass on the table. Glass against glass. A hollow ting filled the silence. Studying her, he lifted his bagel and took a bite, then chewed slowly and swallowed. "What makes you think we were?"

  Now she felt even stupider. Or was he lying? Playing her? "I told you before. No friend flies across the country and drags a friend's sibling back with him, kicking and screaming--"

  "You were hardly kicking and screaming." He took another bite, but didn't remove his steadfast gaze.

  "Fine. Not kicking and screaming, but doing her best to be a pain in the ass."

  He shrugged. "And I told you I get a little overzealous when I help my friends."

  "That doesn't make a bit of sense." She looked down at her bagel, still intact since she couldn't get herself to take a bite.

  "Maybe. But this is a matter of life or death. I'm sure you have at least one friend who would do the same for you."

  Sure, she had friends, but since she did her best to keep everyone at arm's length, she wondered if they weren't little more than acquaintances. Even Pete.

  When she didn't answer, he said, "I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to say."

  "Don't apologize. Whether I do or not, it's no one's fault but my own." She looked up and saw emotion reflected in his eyes. But the emotion she saw--or thought she saw--she didn't like. Pity. "I'm not like you. I don't want people close to me. I don't want anyone to rely on me--for anything."

  He flinched ever so subtly, and she realized she'd struck a nerve. When he didn't speak, she knew it was her turn to apologize. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. Everyone is different, needs different things. Maybe for you, since you had a twin at your side all your life, shadowing you, you don't need people. You're glad to be free." He sipped his juice. "Correct me if I'm wrong."

  She purposefully ignored his invitation and glanced down at her watch. She still had another half-hour to wait before the cab arrived. "So, you're an only child?"

  "As far as I know." He bit into a bagel and she waited, knowing there was more to his answer than what he'd spoken. His diverted eyes and tense neck didn't match his casual words.

  Curious, she decided to poke a little deeper. "That's a strange thing to say."

  "I had a strange childhood."

  Did she want to ask him to elaborate! But how? And why? Why did she care? She looked into his eyes, and saw misery, distant pain that hadn't been forgotten, like a haunted soul. "I'm sorry," she muttered. Her heart heavy, she shook her head but didn't ask any more questions. Instead, she took a bite of her bagel and chewed.

  "It's not your fault. Besides, it's ancient history." He smiled, but his expression remained solemn.

  "Sure, ancient history. You're so old." She rolled her eyes, trying to lighten the mood. Seeing him like this was troubling. It was so much easier to be annoyed with him, frustrated with his meddling. To be connected with him like this, to see that pain and sadness... She didn't want it. She didn't need it. Certain at least fifteen minutes had passed, she glanced down at her watch again. It hadn't.

  "You are in a hurry, aren't you? Would you rather I take you to the airport? I could cancel the cab, and we could leave right now."

  "No, that's okay." All she needed was another hour with this guy! "I can wait another twenty-five minutes."

  "Okay. Well, I guess I'd better jump in the shower. I have a full schedule at the office." He stood, gathered his plate and cup and put them in the dishwasher before heading toward the hallway. But before he left the room, he turned to face her. "Thanks again, Hailey. For everything. I appreciate it. And I'm glad we got to meet, despite everything."

  "Me too," she said automatically, and as she watched his retreat, she repeated it earnestly, "I'm glad we met too, Rainer."

  After a couple more bites of her bagel, she tossed the rest in the garbage can and put her dishes in the dishwasher. Then she went to the front door to wait for the cab. It would be at least another fifteen minutes. After everything she'd gone through the past couple of days, she wished she had a cigarette. She'd quit over a year ago, but a smoke sounded so good right now.

  Resigned she would not start smoking again, she fished in her purse for the pack of gum she'd adopted as her crutch. When her fingers closed around a crumpled piece of paper, she withdrew it, curious.

  A balled up dollar. She smoothed it out, wondering how it had gotten misplaced. Only then did she realize it wasn't a dollar. Ben Franklin's face stared back at her.

  She smiled and pulled out her wallet. When she opened it, she found more money. Several twenties had been tucked into it, and a note.

  For the cab, the restaurant tab, and a little for your trouble. Rainer.

  The stubborn side of her wanted to leave every penny of his money on the table at the door. She didn't need it, or his gratitude. After all, she'd come for H
eidi's sake, not his. But another side, a side she didn't understand, told her to keep it. It meant more than the money to him. Her prideful refusal would hurt him.

  When the car horn sounded outside, she slipped the hundred into her wallet, returned it to her purse and took one last look up the staircase, as if she might see him standing at the top. Then, with her bags gripped in her hands, she left.

  It was time to go home, return to her life.

  So why was she so sad?

  Chapter 7

  "Damn it!" Hailey slammed the phone on the cradle, the force shaking the tin cups set on the counter and filled with pens, and startling Andrew. She smiled. "Sorry."

  "You haven't been yourself for days--since you got back from that conference. What's the deal?" He set aside the paperwork he was working on.

  "Nothing's wrong. Honest." She rubbed her eyes. The truth was too complicated to get into. She didn't have the time or the energy to explain it. "I'm just tired."

  "Tired? I don't buy that for a minute."

  "Give it a rest," she shot back. Not only did she have her sister to worry about, but also the donation for the land was falling through. A relative was contesting the will and the courts were involved. The closing would be delayed for who knew how long.

  What else could go wrong?

  "Look," she said, "we've got to get ready for tomorrow's pet adoption day at the Discount Pet Center. We'll talk later, okay?"

  "Fine. But I'm not going to let it go. You know that, don't you?" he asked with a smirk.

  Dodging past him to the solitude of her office, she said, "Yeah."

  "And if you won't talk to me, I'll call in the Big Guns."

  "Sure you will." She popped her head out of her office. "Speaking of Big Guns, where is Pete?" She peered at the clock, then at the schedule posted on the wall. He had several sterilizations scheduled for this morning. It wasn't like him to pull a no-show.

  "Don't know. He hasn't called." Andrew resumed working, punching keys at the computer. "You want me to call him?"

  "No. I think I will." She sat at her desk and dialed Pete's phone number, but after the answering machine picked up, she hung up. "Strange. I wonder if something's wrong?"

  She gave herself a mental shake, deciding she was making problems where there weren't any. She had enough real problems without the burden of imaginary ones. He was probably stuck in traffic. That wasn't unheard of. On occasion an accident clogged the local two-lane roads.

  She left her office. A few sloppy kisses from her canine friends, and a few puppy nips, would set her on the right track. When she stepped into the lobby, Amy's voice echoed from the back, and she smiled. Amy hated bath day.

  When Hailey reached the back room, she burst out laughing. Amy stood knee deep in the metal bathtub. Oscar, the full sized Saint Bernard, cowered on the floor next to the tub, but the sight of the resistant dog hadn't made her laugh. It was what Amy wore: green waders, like the ones people used when fishing, and a rain parka.

  Amy met Hailey's gaze and smiled triumphantly, raising a scrub brush and bottle of doggy shampoo, ready for battle. "I came prepared today."

  "I see," Hailey said, swallowing a few more chuckles. "But how do you intend to get Oscar in there with you?"

  "Piece of cake." Amy stepped from the tub and set down her weapons. She went to the cabinet, fished in its depths and withdrew a ball with a bell in its center. Shaking it, she whistled, and Oscar's head lifted. "Here, boy. Get the ball," Amy said in a happy voice.

  Oscar responded by standing, his tail wagging in a wide arc. Amy lobbed the ball, and Oscar, being a puppy at heart, scrambled to catch it, landing all four paws in the tub.

  Hailey clapped her hands in approval as Amy ran to the tub to bathe Oscar before he realized where he was. For added encouragement, she slipped the dripping dog a few goodies, and he thanked her with another wide swipe of his tail and a lick. The chime at the front door sounded, and she ran to answer it, relieved when Pete's friendly face greeted her. "There you are! I thought you were going to play hooky. By the way, why did you ring the bell? Where are your keys?"

  "I forgot them at home. I can't believe you thought I was skipping. I've never missed a day of work. I was handling another issue this morning. We have a problem." He walked behind the counter and opened his office door.

  "Do you mean the property?" She followed him.

  "Yeah, that's it."

  "I know all about that. Nancy called this morning. What can we do? I don't want to make her do too much, since she's volunteering," she said, silently grateful for Nancy's generous donation of time. She wasn't the most experienced lawyer in town, but she was a junior partner at a great firm.

  "I'm no lawyer, but I don't think we can do much." He slipped on his white lab coat.

  "Damn! We don't have enough money to buy coastland property! That'll cost a fortune." She sat on the edge of his desk.

  His mouth drawn and down-turned, he sat in his chair. "I know. We may either have to reconsider where we're planning on operating our rescue, or we may have to put it on hold until this situation can be resolved."

  "That isn't what I wanted to hear."

  "I know it's not."

  She crossed her arms over her chest. "What'll we do if we wait, sacrificing time, and then lose? This whole thing could take months."

  "True. Do you want to look for another lot somewhere else--maybe somewhere further north where the property won't be so expensive?"

  "That doesn't make sense. There are plenty of marine rescues up this way. I saw a gap. The location made sense. We can't go south, either. We'd be competing with the bigger organizations down in San Diego." She sighed. Everything looked so different a few days ago--after her meeting with Barrington.

  It was frightening how quickly things could change. In just four days, she'd gone from euphoria to devastation. Her sister was sick, and her dream was on the throes of being dashed. The muscles along her spine lost their strength, and she slumped forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

  "We'll find a solution."

  She nodded, staring at the floor.

  Pete nudged at her shoulder. "You're not giving up that easy, are you? We both knew this would be tough."

  "No way. I'm not giving up. It's been my ambition for years. I moved across the country for this. I just have to find a way to convince the niece, nephew--whoever is contesting the will--that our rescue is worth the sacrifice."

  "No small feat."

  She searched his face. "Why do you say that? Do you know something I don't?"

  "Nope."

  "Are you sure? You look guilty."

  "I swear, I don't know a thing." He gathered some charts and supplies.

  "That's okay. We can find out who it is--or Nancy can. It'll be in the court records. Once we find out who he is, I'll just go talk to him."

  "Him?" His voice lifted.

  "Just a guess."

  "I see." He smiled as he stepped toward the door. "Well. I'll leave you to your scheming. I have a couple of matters to attend to--and some puppy shots to give if we're going to be ready for tomorrow."

  "Okay. I'll be back to help in a few." She swiveled on her bottom until she faced his phone and dialed Nancy's number. When she was told Nancy was out, she ran to her office, changed her clothes and shouted, "I'll be back later!" then dashed from the building. No long-lost relative out to make an easy buck was going to destroy her vision.

  ###

  "Heidi doesn't look good. Is she all right?" Margaret whispered to Rainer as they stood outside Heidi's room. Margaret's face was almost as pale as her daughter's. She wrung her hands. "She's blue, for God's sake, and the doctors won't tell me a thing. They say she's handling everything as best she can. What does that mean?"

  Rainer walked to the nurse's station and requested Heidi's chart. A young nurse gave him a cursory glance before handing it to him. He scanned the lab reports and notes. "Looks okay to me. She's a little dehydrated, but t
hey've increased her antiemetic and IV fluids. Everything else looks fine."

  "No. Something's wrong. Something they're missing. She doesn't look good, and I can't wake her up."

  "Hmmm..." he scanned the records again. "Maybe they gave her something to help her sleep." He didn't see an order for anything. "I'll go check on her."

  Margaret held his forearm. "Thank you."

  He nodded, and the question that had haunted him for days, since he'd watched Hailey climb into the cab, popped into his mind. "Can I ask you something?"

  "Sure."

  "What happened between Heidi and her sister? She has never said much about Hailey, other than they don't speak."

  Margaret looked toward Heidi's door. "That's because Hailey is dead to her. That was Hailey's idea. Heidi tried for years to talk to her about what happened, but Hailey refused. So, Heidi finally gave up. She hates Hailey for what she's done. And in my opinion, Hailey doesn't deserve her forgiveness. She doesn't deserve anyone's forgiveness." Her voice was razor sharp, and he wondered how often it had sliced at both daughters' souls.

  "Don't you think you're being a little hard on Hailey?"

  "God, no. She's my daughter, but I can't forgive her either."

  He shook his head. No wonder Hailey was so stand-offish. Her own family had tried, convicted and banished her. For what? What could she have done to deserve such drastic treatment, not only from Heidi, but their mother as well? Couldn't Margaret see how her behavior hurt both daughters?

  He brushed past her, quietly excusing himself, and donned a surgical mask before entering Heidi's room. Whatever had happened, it was time to get the facts, and it was time to face the problem head-on. Heidi's health was too poor for her to harbor such hatred. What if she died having never spoken to her sister? What if Hailey never had the chance to apologize? He would not let that happen.

  "Heidi, are you awake?" he whispered, touching her arm.

 

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