by Erin Wright
Jaxson nodded his understanding, silently willing the man to talk faster. If he didn’t get to his point soon, he’d just toss the doctor over his shoulder and let him continue to blather on while they walked into Sugar’s room together. Every moment away from Sugar was a moment of pure pain, the kind of torture Jaxson had never felt before.
“She’s delirious from the pain and keeps slapping at the air with her hands. We’re not sure what that’s all about. Just keep calm, don’t startle her or give into her demands to remove her breathing tube, okay?”
Jaxson nodded curtly and then hurried into the room, happy to finally be given permission to go in.
At the sight of Sugar, so small and delicate and dirty against the white hospital sheets, his breath caught. She seemed to be completely asleep at the moment, so he settled down next to her in the visitor’s chair, staring at her, willing her to wake up and tell him that she was all right.
He skimmed his fingertips across her face, the ash and soot from the fire darkening her normally pale skin. With everything wrong with her, he wasn’t surprised that the nurses hadn’t had time to clean her up, especially not with Gage also in the hospital. Two burn victims in one afternoon was probably a pretty big strain on the small staff.
Gage. Jaxson felt a bolt of guilt at the fact that he’d forgotten to even ask after his friend to find out how he was doing.
He tucked Sugar’s hand next to her side and stepped out into the hallway, grabbing a harried nurse as she went by. “I’d like to clean Sugar Stonemyer up a bit. Do you have hot water and a washcloth I could borrow, or alcohol wipes or something?”
“The CNA should be along in a minute and she can do it,” the nurse said curtly, obviously thinking that the task of cleaning a patient would be underneath a man.
Reverse sexism. It’s also a thing in Sawyer, Idaho.
He kept his smile plastered on his face. “I’d prefer to do it, if that’s all right. I’m sure the CNA has other things she can do.”
“All right,” the nurse sniffed. “I’ll send the CNA in with the supplies.”
She hurried off before Jaxson could ask her about Gage.
He walked back into the small hospital room, his gaze never leaving Sugar’s. He’d take care of her. Show her how much she meant to him. Make her finally believe that the fact that she’d been manipulated as an 18-year-old girl wasn’t reason to be miserable for the rest of her life.
Sugar began thrashing around just as Jaxson got to her side. She was slapping the air, just like the doctor had said, and noises were coming from her throat that he was just sure were supposed to be words, if only she’d been able to form them.
He grabbed her hands and held them in his, trying to keep her from doing any harm to herself, while he looked around the room. If Sugar was constantly doing the same thing again and again, she had to be reacting – even if only subconsciously – to something in the room. She hadn’t opened her eyes yet, so not something visual. A smell? A sound?
As she fought half-heartedly against his gentle grip, Jaxson closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. What could be triggering Sugar? Was it the antiseptic smell of the hospital? Maybe it reminded her of losing her baby.
But the movements were so specific; nothing to do with a baby at all.
His eyes popped open and he felt a huge grin spread across his face. Duh.
She’d settled back down for a moment, so Jaxson took a chance and went out into the hallway again, keeping an eye on her as he went. Hanging out in the doorway of the room, he waited until he spotted an RN with Charge Nurse pinned to her lapel. “Ma’am,” he called out. “I think I know what’s going on with Sugar.”
Nurse Knutsen, according to her nametag, gave him a questioning glance as she came over. “‘Going on’?” she echoed.
“Yeah, with her hands. Hear that beeping? The heart monitor or whatever?”
She gave a quick nod, obviously in a hurry and wanting Jaxson to get to his point so she could move on with her day.
“Sugar thinks it’s her alarm clock. She keeps trying to turn it off. Can we unplug it or something?”
“Unplug the heart monitor?” the nurse replied, staring at him in shock. “If she were having a heart attack, we’d never know!”
“If she keeps pulling on her IV and her breathing tubes, she’s never going to get better,” Jaxson pointed out in his best I’m-being-reasonable voice.
“Let me find the doctor,” Nurse Knutsen grumbled, leaving.
Just then, the CNA showed up with a wash basin of warm water and a couple of washcloths. “I heard you wanted these?” she asked, scrunching up her young nose in confusion. She could only be all of 16, and the idea of a guy – in a fireman suit, no less – wanting to wash a girl was obviously hurting her head.
Jaxson grinned. “Perfect,” he said. He walked back into the small room and over to the even-smaller sink in the corner to wash his hands, scrubbing off the grime and dirt until even his callouses shone. “Do you know how Gage is doing?” he asked over his shoulder.
“The bakery dude?” the teenager asked.
“Yeah, the owner. I’m assuming he’s here? I didn’t hear a Life Flight helicopter land, anyway.”
“He’s just down the hallway. They got him out first so he’s a little better off than Sugar. You got him out first, I guess,” she amended, looking at his turnout gear, still dingy and dirty from the fire. Jaxson made a mental note not to hug Sugar in his current condition. He really needed to go home and change, but the idea of leaving Sugar struck a note of panic in his gut that wrenched it so hard, he felt borderline nauseous from it.
No, he wasn’t leaving Sugar. Not yet.
“I found him but two of my guys carried him out,” Jaxson clarified, taking the water and cloths from her. “What’s your name?”
“Zara,” she said cheerfully, following along behind Jaxson as he moved back to Sugar’s side. He began by washing her hand – washing, rinsing, and washing again, until the cloth came away clean. “I’m new here.”
He moved further up her arm. She was so small. It was a wonder she’d lived at all.
“Well, Zara, how old are you?”
Jaxson wasn’t sure if he really cared or not, but he wanted something to do – something to think about – other than the woman laying in front of him, and whether she’d ever wake up or talk again or tell him that she loved him.
Yeah, it was easier to focus on Zara.
“Sixteen. The candy striper program here doesn’t allow you to start until you’re 16; otherwise, I would’ve started last year.”
“You like helping people?”
She nodded eagerly. “I’m gonna be a doctor someday. I’ll come back here and run this hospital.”
Jaxson grinned at her as he moved up to Sugar’s shoulder. Someone had changed her into a hospital gown before he got there, for which he was eternally grateful. He needed to reach all of her, but didn’t want to have to fess up to her later that he’d been the one to strip her down in public, even if it was in a hospital. As touchy as she was about some things, he just wasn’t sure how she’d react to that news.
“I think that’s a mighty fine achievement to shoot for,” Jaxson said. “I think this community could use someone like you.” Young, with ambition? Yeah, she was just what this community needed.
“You don’t think I should pick something else better suited for a girl?” she asked. The question, if not the tone in her voice, said it all. She’d already been told that line of reasoning by a person or two.
“I think a girl can do anything she sets her mind to,” Jaxson told her seriously. “And if you ever get sick of nursing, you should come on down to the fire station. I’ll put you to work laying out hoses in a fire.”
“Did Angus help you put the fire out?” Zara asked, her tone studiously neutral.
“No, he just started training a couple of months ago.” Jaxson began working his way across Sugar’s collarbone and upper chest, carefully staying
far away from any private parts. “He needs a lot more training before I let him into a fire, especially like the one we had today.”
“Is it true that he’s in trouble for burning down the mill, so that’s why he has to be a firefighter?”
Jaxson wasn’t about to touch that with a ten-foot pole. Sharing gossip with a teenage girl about the mayor’s son seemed like a mighty fine way to lose his job lickety-split. “He’s actually part of a pilot program – him and Chris. We’re starting up a new program here in Sawyer where you can start training as a teen to become a firefighter. Like you and nursing.”
“Oh.” The teen scrunched up her nose, obviously not happy with the lack of punishment in Jaxson’s answer. “Because Angus is a dick to me,” she said baldly, making Jaxson partially choke as he tried to contain his laughter. “I was hoping it was a punishment or something.”
“A dick, huh?”
“Yeah. He’s the cutest guy in school, but all of the girls hate him because he isn’t nice to any of us. Or anyone at all, except his friends. All he does is talk about how he’s the mayor’s son and can do whatever he wants to, anytime he wants to.”
“Sometimes guys need a little more time to grow up,” Jaxson said diplomatically.
“Zara!” Nurse Knutsen hollered from the doorway of the room. Sugar began thrashing around but the nurse ignored her. “There are bedpans in 8 and 9 that need to be changed out.”
Zara wrinkled her nose. “I better get going,” she said forlornly.
“Bedpans not your favorite?” Jaxson asked with a grin.
She tossed him an as-if look and headed for the door.
“Can you tell the doctor I really need to see him?” Jaxson called out after her. Nurse Knutsen had came and gone so quickly, Jaxson hadn’t had a chance to remind her.
“Sure!” the teen called out, and disappeared around the corner.
Jaxson turned back to Sugar. “Ready for me to wash your other arm?” he asked her. “Good. Here goes.” He switched sides of the bed and began carefully working his way down her thin, pale arm.
He would make Sugar better, if only through force of will. If he wanted something bad enough, he’d always made it happen.
He wouldn’t fail now.
Chapter 40
Sugar
She hurt, but she didn’t know why or where or how, just that she did, and she was drifting, hearing but not understanding, as people moved on the other side of a roll of cotton, talking but not in words she knew.
Her lungs. It hurt to breathe. She tried to pull in air and there was something in her way and she didn’t know what. She tried to tug on it and get it out but her hands were pulled away.
“Shhhhh…it’s okay,” Jaxson crooned. “You’re okay. Just sleep and get better.”
Why was Jaxson there? Nothing was right, but before she could question him or get her eyes to open, she was drifting again.
Then he was there again. “You’re all right, Sugar. You’re okay. You can just rest.”
But this time, she didn’t want to. She wanted to wake up. With a monumental effort, she pried her right eyelid open, and then her left. The world swam around, bright and painful in front of her, and she shut them quickly against the pain.
“Where…” she tried to say, but it came out all croaky.
“She probably wants a drink of water,” a lady’s voice said, and then a straw was between her lips. “Here, suck on this slowly.”
Sugar obediently sucked down water, feeling better as she could practically feel the water flow through her body, revitalizing her. “Where am I?” she rasped, drained by the effort it took.
“The Sawyer hospital,” Jaxson said, squeezing her hand. “You were in a fire. Do you remember?”
She shook her head and then paused, flashes coming back to her. Bits and pieces of flames and smoke. Screaming. Was she screaming, or was it someone else?
She nodded slowly.
“You were lucky,” Jaxson said softly. “Lots of smoke inhalation but no serious burns. On the ground like you were, across the room from the oven, the smoke wasn’t as thick. Passing out was probably the best thing that could’ve happened, short of you getting out before the fire got bad, of course.”
“Ga…” she got out, but Jaxson knew what she was asking.
“He’s doing good. Asking about you, and the restaurant. You two are the luckiest people I’ve ever met.” She squeezed his hand. She didn’t feel real lucky at the moment – she rather felt like she’d been beat up by Mike Tyson before being dragged along a dirt road behind a pickup truck – but she didn’t feel up to arguing with him, so she didn’t say anything at all.
“Sleep is what you need to do. It’s the best thing you can do right now.”
Sugar nodded her understanding, or maybe she just meant to nod, and then she was drifting in the world of white again, where there were voices but no words.
Chapter 41
Jaxson
It was quite possibly the longest week of his life, but finally, the day came when they’d let Sugar go home.
Her parents never showed up to the hospital, although Jaxson knew they had to have known what happened. Something like this didn’t happen in a small town without everyone in a 50-mile radius hearing every juicy detail of it. Even Jaxson knew that by now.
The fact that her parents couldn’t be bothered to come check on their daughter spoke volumes about them, and none of it was good.
Dick, on the other hand, had tried to come by, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, but Nurse Knutsen took one look at him and told him to leave. “Doesn’t she have a restraining order against you?” were her exact words. When Dick tried to argue, the nurse picked up the phone. “Why don’t I call the sheriff and have him come on down and discuss this with you?” she’d asked bluntly. Dick skedaddled after that.
Jaxson was quite sad that he’d missed it all. The guy had stopped by during one of the few times that his firefighters had insisted that he leave while they watched over Sugar for him. He’d been at home, showering and shaving, when Dick had come by.
Better luck next time. Maybe Dick could try again, and Jaxson could do a citizen’s arrest on him, too. He’d enjoy that.
Maybe a little too much.
He carried Sugar into her apartment, despite her protests to the contrary. “I can walk,” she insisted in her new sexy, smoky (all puns intended) country singer voice. He’d told her that she could start a new career as a crooner at all of the local bars with her new voice. She’d rolled her eyes at him.
But they were even, because he was ignoring her protests about being able to walk. He figured they were even in most respects; just one of the many reasons that he loved her.
Hamlet came bounding out of Sugar’s bedroom from his spot on the bed, whining with joy and wagging his tail so hard, Jaxson figured he was in imminent danger of dislocating his spine from the force of it.
“Hi, baby,” Sugar said in her new scratchy voice and Hamlet paused for just a moment, clearly confused as to why she sounded so strange. But he quickly forgot about his confusion as he continued to dance around them in joy.
“Bedroom or couch?” Jaxson asked, holding her in his arms as easily as he’d hold a newborn babe. As tiny as she was, he figured she weighed just about as much.
“Couch,” she croaked and he grinned as he laid her down.
“Maybe not so much a country singer after all,” he said mock-seriously. “Maybe more like an amphibian. A frog, perhaps. You can talk Gage into changing the name of the bakery from the Muffin Man to the Lily Pad.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
He laughed.
“Want some tea with honey?” he asked, already moving into the adjoining kitchen to start it.
She nodded wearily. Coming home, even if it had just meant being carried, had exhausted her.
Jaxson cursed again at the fact that he’d been forced to move her back into her apartment. He’d wanted to move her into his, but he was i
n a walk-up apartment, and as worn-out as she was, adding a couple of sets of stairs to the process of getting outside would only mean she’d be even slower to make it out the door.
He put the kettle onto the stove as Hamlet faithfully stood guard over her on the couch, his head resting on the couch cushions next to her hand. Jaxson wondered for a moment what would’ve happened if Hamlet would’ve been there at the bakery when the fire broke out. Would he have dragged Sugar to safety?
Jaxson rather thought so, although he could only hope that he’d never have a chance to test that theory.
Friends popped in and out over the next couple of days to wish Sugar well, and bring her soup. As Jaxson studied the contents of the fridge, he figured Sugar had enough varieties to choose from to last her a good year at this rate.
She was gaining in strength too, and color was starting to come back to her cheeks.
Still, Jaxson treated her like spun sugar – on the edge of breaking if he breathed wrong. He’d almost lost her, and looking back on how close it’d been, how he’d almost convinced himself that she wasn’t in the bakery anymore…
It made it hard to breathe sometimes. When the panic would overwhelm him, he’d cover it by running to her side and asking her if there was anything he could get for her. He’d take care of her, and then she’d be all right, and then he could stop worrying.
On the fourth day, Sugar finally looked him straight in the eye, and said, “Jaxson, stop.”
He was busy trying to spoon-feed her some chicken chowder the neighbor had brought over. He paused, the spoon halfway to her mouth. “Stop what?” he asked, confused. He blew on the soup. Maybe it was too hot. He’d tried to cool it down enough for her, but if he was burning her mouth, he’d just feel awful. It was already tough enough that he’d almost let her burn to death. Burning her mouth wouldn’t do.