“Um, okay, I guess. Still a little in shock over everything, though.”
Mindy clucked sympathetically as she looked at some printouts from one of the beeping machines and made some notes in her chart. “It’s a lot to take in, my dear. The overnight nurse told me about your coworker. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks,” Bailey said flatly. She felt like she should say something else, but the whole thing felt a little surreal. Conner couldn’t really be gone, could he? She’d just seen him yesterday, fretting that they didn’t have enough controversial quotes for their story about the ongoing drought in California.
“Were you and your colleague close?” Mindy asked.
Bailey shrugged. “I wouldn’t say we were best friends, but I worked with him a lot. I can’t believe he’s just…gone.”
Mindy put a hand on Bailey’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”
Bailey shrugged again. There wasn’t anything Mindy or anyone else could do to bring Conner back, and dwelling on his death made it seem somehow more real and shocking. Bailey decided she needed to change the subject. “So, how am I doing? When can I leave?”
“Your chart looks really great right now. I’ll have to have the doctor come check on you, but I would bet he’ll discharge you this evening or early tomorrow morning at the latest.”
Bailey nodded. “That’s good to hear. As lovely as you all have been, I’m ready to get out of here.”
Bailey didn’t bother to add that she didn’t know where she was going to go when she left. She had lost her cell phone in the fire, so she had no idea what kind of messages her boss had left for her. She’d given her boss’s name as an emergency contact, so she figured he knew by now that she had landed in the hospital and that Conner hadn’t made it. But her boss subscribed religiously to the idea that “the show must go on.” No doubt, he’d sent his condolences, and then started asking about whether the piece Bailey had been writing could be salvaged.
Something about losing a colleague and almost dying yourself has a way of putting things in perspective, though. Bailey had been unhappy and burnt out with her job for a long time, and she knew she needed to make a change. She just had to figure out what that change would be.
“Everything okay?” Mindy asked, bringing Bailey back to the present moment.
“Um, yeah. Just thinking,” Bailey said, realizing that she’d been frowning. “Gotta figure out how to get home and everything once I leave the hospital.”
“Where’s home?”
“Washington D.C.”
“Shit, girl. You’re a long ways away.”
“Yeah, I was here for a work project. But I’m pretty sure I’m done with that now, given the circumstances.”
“Well, let me know if you need help with anything. A hotel room in town or a cab to the airport or anything like that. I can help you figure stuff out.”
“Thanks, that’s really sweet of you. If I get a hotel room I’m definitely getting one on the first floor, though,” Bailey said with a shudder.
“I don’t blame you,” Mindy said. “I’m going to go consult with the doctor about your chart and see if we can get you cleared for discharge.”
Bailey nodded as Mindy started heading for the door of the hospital room. Just before Mindy grabbed the door handle, Bailey remembered the white box. It looked like some sort of gift, but Bailey had no idea who would have sent her anything. Her boss would never be that thoughtful.
“Wait, Mindy. Do you know what that white box over there is?”
Mindy paused and looked at the box for a moment, and then a huge smile spread across her face. “Oh, that. I almost forgot. One of the firemen brought it in for you this morning, but you were out cold still. I think it was actually the guy who saved you from the burning building. And, dang, girl, was he ever gorgeous. I’d let him save my ass any day. Here, let me grab the box for you. I think he left you a note.”
Mindy grabbed the box and set it on a polished steel tray table next to Bailey’s bed, then disappeared into the hallway with a little wave. Bailey found a folded piece of paper, presumably the note the firefighter had written, and set it to the side of the box. Then she carefully untied and removed the ribbon, revealing the words “The Sweet Crust” printed across the box top in flowery, golden letters. When she opened the lid, the tantalizing aroma of apple pie hit her nostrils, instantly causing her mouth to water. The pie had a perfectly crisp, golden crust, and Bailey suddenly realized that she was starving. She grabbed the phone and rang the hospital’s kitchen, which she discovered had a menu for hospital patients that worked sort of like room service. After ordering a chicken pot pie, and requesting an extra fork and knife so she could cut herself a slice of pie, Bailey remembered the note. She unfolded it, and read the hurried, messy penmanship that was scrawled across the scrap sheet of paper.
Bailey, I know you don’t know me, but I wanted to offer my deepest sympathies to you on your loss. I’m the firefighter who found you in the hotel last night. I tried my best to reach you and your friend in time, but unfortunately you were the only one I could save. I’m so sorry. I know there’s nothing I can do to truly make things better, but I hope this pie can at least serve as comfort food to brighten your spirits for a moment. If there’s anything I can do to help you, please don’t hesitate to contact me. Trevor Hayes.
Bailey stared at the paper for a moment, trying to process the words on the page. The firefighter seemed to be apologizing for Conner’s death, but no one had been responsible for that. It had just been a sad, unavoidable tragedy. Really, Bailey should be sending Trevor pie, not the other way around. Regardless of whether Trevor thought his rescue effort had gone well, he had saved Bailey’s life. He must have done something right.
Bailey traced her finger across the messy handwriting on the note, and made up her mind that she would find Trevor Hayes and thank him in person. He deserved at least that.
* * *
The doctor had decided to keep Bailey in the hospital one more night for observation, but early the next morning she was discharged. She walked out of the hospital building with nothing but the clothes on her back. Her entire suitcase of clothes, her wallet, her laptop, and her phone had all been lost in the fire. Bailey had intended to fly straight home to Washington, but she couldn’t exactly board a plane without an I.D.
Mindy had gone above and beyond her duties as a nurse, and had helped Bailey set up a room at another nearby hotel. The hotel had agreed to let Bailey have a room on an “I owe you” basis until she could get access to her credit card. Mindy had also loaned Bailey a hundred dollars. Mindy’s simple trust overwhelmed Bailey, and Bailey hated to take any money from her, even on such a temporary basis. But Bailey didn’t have many options. She had to eat, and she had to get at least one change of clothes.
Bailey hitched a ride to the hotel with one of the nurses who had just ended her shift. After checking in, she surveyed her room. It was located on the first floor, and, thankfully, looked nothing like the last hotel Bailey had stayed in. It also had a mini refrigerator, which meant Bailey had somewhere to store a few groceries. She walked the mile to a nearby Wal-Mart so that she could pick up a few basics. She loaded her cart with milk, cereal, and the makings for sandwiches. She was tempted to grab a case of beer, but forced herself to skip the alcohol. Until she got her I.D. and credit cards replaced, her funds were limited. She didn’t want to ask Mindy or anyone else for more money. She picked up some cheap shower gel and shampoo, and then headed to the clothing section, where she found a few pairs of sweatpants and a couple t-shirts on the clearance rack. She wasn’t going to collect any fashion awards with these outfits, but the clothes were cheap and comfortable, and that’s all that Bailey cared about right now.
When she arrived back to the hotel, Bailey took a long shower, and then started making phone calls. She’d been dreading the calls all morning. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She didn’t want to hear exclamations of shock and sympathy, and she didn’t want to field requests for explanati
ons of what had happened. She just wanted to disappear into oblivion for a while. She wanted to spend time alone with her thoughts, processing everything that had happened.
But life would not stop to allow her to wallow. Things would keep moving forward, as they always did. Bailey took a deep breath and picked up the phone to call her assistant, Sarah, back at the newspaper in D.C.
“Bailey!” Sarah screeched into the phone. “Oh my god, are you okay? I couldn’t believe it when I heard about Conner. That must have been an awful experience!”
“Hi, Sarah,” Bailey said, trying to keep her voice calm. Sarah was hardworking and efficient—the best assistant Bailey could have wanted. But Sarah loved drama. She was easily excitable over the smallest little things, so when a big thing came along, like a hotel fire that killed a colleague, Sarah couldn’t stop shrieking and carrying on about it. Bailey let Sarah babble breathlessly for a few minutes, and then stepped in to get down to business.
“Sarah, I lost my wallet, and all of my clothes in the fire. I’m stuck here until I get an I.D. and I have no money or way of getting any. You still have my spare key, right? Can you go to my condo and get my passport? It’s in the fire safe. I can give you the combination. There’s also a credit card in there for emergencies. Can you overnight me the passport and the credit card?”
“Of course! Is there anything else you need? I can send you some clothes, if you want.”
“No, thanks. After you send my credit card, I’ll be fine. I can pick up a few more clothes here if necessary, but I’m planning to be on the first flight back to D.C. once I have my passport in hand. Thank god I have that. I don’t know what I would have done if my driver’s license had been my only I.D.”
“Okay,” Sarah said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Have you talked to Jim?”
Bailey sighed. Jim was her boss, and her next phone call. The last thing she wanted to do right now was talk to him, but she knew the conversation had to happen eventually. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid.
“No, I haven’t talked to him. I’m about to call him.”
“He’s upset about the story,” Sarah said, her voice still in a whisper. “He’s been trying to put on a show like he’s upset that Conner died, but yesterday he called me into his office and asked if I’d heard from you. He started cursing and saying that he needed an update on the drought story. That man is sick in the head. I seriously think he doesn’t care about anything except his stupid newspaper.”
Bailey rolled her eyes heavenward. “Thanks for the warning, Sarah,” she said.
A few minutes later, Bailey nervously drummed her fingers on the particleboard of the cheap hotel desk, listening to her boss’s phone ringing. She thought for a moment that she might actually be lucky enough to get his voicemail instead of him, but Jim picked up on the sixth ring.
“Bailey! Where are you?”
“I’m still in Red Valley. I was discharged from the hospital this morning and managed to get another hotel room. Everything I had here burned up in the fire, and I can’t get home until I get a new I.D.”
“Did you manage to save any of the work on the story?” Jim asked.
Bailey grimaced. She had expected her boss to be a jerk about still wanting the story to get done, but she hadn’t expected him to be quite so cold. He hadn’t asked her how she was, or expressed any sorrow over Conner’s death. All he cared about was his work.
“We lost everything,” Bailey said. “My suitcase, my wallet, my laptop. My portable backup hard drive. Same with Conner’s stuff. The only part of the story saved would be the stuff we had already emailed to you.”
Bailey’s voice cracked as she spoke. She suddenly felt cold and alone. Conner was dead, and all her boss could think about was the story he had lost.
“Damn. Well, sit tight,” Jim said. “We’ll have to see what we can do to recreate the story.”
Bailey sat dumbfounded, unable to believe that her boss didn’t have the decency to at least pretend that he cared about losing Conner and almost losing her. In that moment, she realized that she couldn’t go back to working for him. She had poured her whole life into this job because she hadn’t known what else to do. The job had been stable, and had paid well. But it wasn’t her passion, and nearly dying had made Bailey realize that she needed to stop wasting time just going through the motions of life. Bailey took a deep breath, and finally said the words she should have said years ago.
“If you want to recreate the story, then you’ll have to find someone else to do it.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Jim said, his voice sounding genuinely confused.
“I quit,” Bailey said. “I just lost a good friend and colleague, and nearly lost my own life. I need some time to process what happened, and to think about what’s really important to me.”
“Bailey, I’m sorry if you felt like I was pushing too hard. It’s just that the story is time sensitive. But you’re right; you’ve been through a lot. I should have been more sensitive to that. Why don’t you take a little time off, and I’ll find someone else to finish up this story. There’s no need to quit.”
But Jim’s apology was too little, too late. For the first time in years, Bailey had allowed herself to imagine living for something other than Jim’s deadlines. She didn’t know what that something else would be, but she knew she had to try to find it.
“I’m sorry, Jim,” Bailey said. “I’ve made up my mind. It’s time for me to live life on my own terms.”
Before Jim could reply and try to change her mind, Bailey hung up the phone. Tomorrow, she might regret not having a job. But for the moment, she was going to enjoy finally being free.
Chapter Four
Almost as soon as Bailey hung up on her boss, the phone started ringing again. Jim tried calling back several times in a row, but Bailey ignored him each time. He wasn’t her problem anymore.
With no job to worry about, and no way to travel anywhere until her passport arrived, Bailey decided that now was as good a time as any to go looking for the firefighter who had saved her life. She threw on a cheap pair of tennis shoes that had been another clearance rack find at Wal-Mart, and made her way down to the hotel’s front desk.
From the kind young man working at the front desk, she learned that there was a fire station less than two miles from the hotel. She decided to walk to the station in hopes that someone there would know who Trevor Hayes was. At the fire station, she met a burly blonde man who knew Trevor. The man told her that Trevor was actually a volunteer firefighter and lived on the outskirts of town at a base for a group of smokejumpers who fought wildfires. With no car, and no way to rent one, Bailey thought she would have to put her plans to go thank Trevor on hold. But the burly firefighter told her that he just happened to be heading that way, and that he would give her a ride there if she liked.
Bailey agreed. She would have to figure out a way to get back to town, but she could worry about that when the time came. A half hour later, she climbed out of the fireman’s truck in front of a large airplane hangar. There were several vehicles parked out front, but not a single person in sight. Bailey timidly walked up to what appeared to be the front door and knocked.
She waited several moments, and tried knocking again. Just as she raised her hand to try knocking one more time, the door opened. A tall man with chestnut brown hair and deep blue eyes crossed his arms and looked down at her with a scowl. Despite the cool February weather, the man wasn’t wearing a shirt. He had some of the biggest bicep muscles that Bailey had ever seen, and his blue jeans hung low on his hips, revealing a perfectly sculpted six pack. If it hadn’t been for the angry look on his face, Bailey would have considered him one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen.
“Can I help you?” the man asked.
“Um, hi. I’m looking for a man named Trevor Hayes, and I was told he lives here.”
“What business do you have with Trevor,” the man asked, crossing his arms.
Bailey frowned. Te
mpted to ask the man why he cared, she thought better of it and smiled sweetly up at him instead.
“Trevor saved me from a hotel fire I was caught in two nights ago. I wanted to come thank him in person.”
The man looked Bailey up and down, and must have decided that for some reason he didn’t like what he saw. “Well, I’ll pass the message along,” he said, and then started shutting the door.
Before Bailey even realized what was happening or could protest, she found herself staring at the closed door.
“What the heck?” she asked herself, then started pounding on the door again. No one responded, and she was left standing outside the hangar alone and feeling like an idiot. Irritated, she turned on her heel and started marching toward the road. She had no idea why that man had treated her so rudely, but after her conversation with her ex-boss this morning, she had no patience left for bad-mannered men. She wasn’t sure how far town was from here, but she decided to just start heading in that direction, and hope someone would drive by that was willing to give her a ride. She refused to stand outside the hangar door and beg for that jerk to open it.
Ten minutes later, Bailey was still stomping in anger as she made her way down the road. She heard a vehicle approaching behind her, and turned to see a large, white SUV. She held out her thumb in the classic hitchhiking gesture, not caring that soliciting a ride from a stranger was probably ill-advised for a lone female on a country road. The SUV slowed down, and pulled onto the shoulder in front of her.
She ran up to the vehicle and hopped in to the front passenger seat. The driver had dark brown hair, expressive green eyes, and muscles that strained against the fabric of his gray t-shirt. He was even better looking than the man who had answered the door back at the airplane hangar—especially since the man at the hangar had been such a jerk.
“Hi, there. Heading into town?” he asked, as he started pulling back onto the road.
“Yup. Thanks for the ride,” Bailey said.
Fire Bear Shifters: The Complete Series Page 28