Wild Fire

by Tiffinie Helmer

  Kennadee had a dislocated shoulder when she’d rescued him?

  Why hadn’t she said anything?

  And then he’d insisted that she return to his vehicle and pull out his medical bag. A bag that easily weighed thirty pounds or more. He was surprised she hadn’t hit him with it.

  God, he was a selfish bastard, only thinking of himself and his injuries while Kennadee was in pain too. He needed to do something.

  “Do you have her number in your phone?” he asked.

  “Why no, not on me. Do you need to talk to her?”

  “Yes.” But it was probably for the best that Tellie didn’t have Kennadee’s number because in the mood he was in, he’d probably call her and chew her out. “I’m ready to return to my room,” he said.

  Tellie gleefully helped him to stand and led him back to his hospital bed never letting up on the string of conversation.

  Once he was tucked in, Tellie asked, “Anything else I can get you? You want some cookies? The nurses station has shortbread, chocolate chip, Oreos. I could probably hunt up some snickerdoodles.”

  No, he didn’t want some damn cookies. “Could you get my father on the phone?”

  “Sure, I’d be happy to.”

  He relayed his father’s cell number and listened as she dialed. “Mr. Rasmussen? I have your son on the line for you.” Tellie placed the receiver in Gideon’s hand.

  “Dad,” he barked into the phone. “I need you to do something for me.”

  Chapter 7

  “Jack,” Pete said, having called him earlier, setting up a time to meet at the Pump House for a drink. Jack was already seated in a booth and stood when he saw him. They shook hands. Pete slid into the bench across from him.

  “How’s Gideon?” Jack asked.

  “Acting like a wolf caught in a snare. Those poor nurses, I keep showing up with treats when I visit him, but he’s putting them through hell.”

  “That’s great news. He’s feeling better if he’s causing problems.”

  “I should be able to bring him home tomorrow, but that isn’t what I needed to talk to you about. You will never believe what Gideon wants me to do for him.” Pete didn’t wait for Jack to try guessing and continued in a rush. “He wants me to recreate his and Kennadee’s prom date.”

  “Prom? Are you going to throw a dance?”

  “Not that part of their prom date, but the dinner before the dance. Back in high school, Gideon had set up a picnic dinner at the sporting goods store in the camping department.”

  “That’s creative. What do you need from me?”

  “Information on Kennadee’s favorite flowers, food, music. That sort of thing.”

  “Well…I have no idea what her favorite flowers are, but when in doubt I say go with roses. As for her favorite food, that would be macaroni and cheese. And as for music, she plays a lot of stuff that is hard on the ears. So, I really have no idea.”

  “That won’t work. We need something romantic.”

  “I say go with the classics. Avery had a playlist of sixties groups playing when he proposed to Wild Cat. You can’t go wrong with Elvis or the Everly Brothers.”

  “Agreed. I’ll set up the table, tent, and so forth, you handle the flowers and food.”

  “You got it,” Jack said. “Hey, what time tomorrow are you picking Gideon up?”

  “Around noon. Why?” Pete dragged out the “why” a smile spreading over his lips.

  “Kennadee has a physical therapy appointment in Fairbanks. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “That this romance is writing itself.”

  They clicked their beer glasses and shared crafty smiles.

  Chapter 8

  “You did what?” Kennadee asked, staring at her father in disbelief. She’d just finished pouring a cup of coffee for herself, which wasn’t an easy feat with her arm back in the dreaded sling. “Gideon doesn’t want me picking him up from the hospital. That’s a family responsibility.”

  “Friends or family. What’s the big deal?” Jack asked.

  Kennadee thought she saw him hide a smile behind his own mug of coffee.

  “What’s a ‘big deal’?” Zoe asked, entering the kitchen, her long chestnut-colored hair bouncing like a shampoo commercial with every step. She wore no makeup today and she looked about fourteen instead of nineteen without it. Kennadee envied Zoe’s clear, porcelain skin. But then, Zoe took care of her skin, whereas Kennadee always exposed hers to the elements, and more times than not, those elements were angry.

  “Just a favor for a friend,” Jack said.

  “What’s the favor?” Zoe asked, reaching for the pot of coffee and pouring a cup. She then stirred in two spoonfuls of sugar and a healthy dollop of cream.

  “Kennadee will be in Fairbanks for physical therapy, and Gideon Rasmussen is due to be released from the hospital,” Jack explained. “Pete called and asked if I could pick up Gideon since he has a prior commitment he can’t reschedule. And I thought since Kennadee will be there she can help everyone out.”

  Kennadee watched Jack closely, looking for any signs that this was a set up. After what he’d pulled with Catriona and Sorene, she wouldn’t put it past him to try and play matchmaker with her, even though she’d warned him not to try.

  Jack Wilde was a stubborn and persistent man when he got an idea in his mind.

  “I can head into Fairbanks and pick him up,” Zoe offered, stunning both Kennadee and their dad. Jack was the first to respond.

  “Why would you want to do that? You don’t even know Gideon.” Jack pointed to Kennadee. “She saved his life and dated him in high school.”

  “I grew up in Heartbreak, remember,” Zoe said sarcastically. “I’ve heard stories about him, plus he’s now a doctor. I wouldn’t mind checking him out.” A twinkle entered her cunning green eyes.

  “Oh, no you don’t, missy,” Kennadee said. “He’s too old for you.”

  Zoe struck a suggestive pose. “I’m not a child anymore. And what’s a few years? He’s Sorene’s age, right? That’s only a seven-year difference.”

  “Eight years. You’re only nineteen.”

  “Yeah, and Mom was married and pregnant by nineteen.”

  Kennadee looked at Jack who seemed to be enjoying the exchange. He shrugged. “She has you there.”

  Kennadee set her coffee mug down on the counter with a loud clunk. “I’ll be picking up Gideon.” She pointed to Zoe. “Don’t you have a job to get to today?”

  “Nope. I have the day off. Want me to come with you? Keep you company, help you with Gideon?”

  Hell, no. “I got this.”

  “Who gave you the day off?” Jack asked. Zoe had been employed at Wilde Log Homes since she’d quit college even though she hated working for the family business.

  “I did,” Zoe said. “I needed a personal day.”

  “What for?” Jack asked.

  “It’s personal,” Zoe stressed.

  “That’s not good enough for me.”

  “As you’re my boss, that’s all I’m required to tell you.”

  “As your father, you’re required to tell me everything.” He planted his hands on his hips.

  “Come on, Dad. I’m an adult. I needed a day off. It’s not like I’m going to rob a bank or have an illicit affair with a married man.”

  “Holy hell, Wild Card, do you say things like that just for the fun of shocking me?” Jack grabbed his chest in a mock heart attack.

  “Zoe,” Kennadee said. “Give the poor man a break. One of these days you will give him an actual heart attack.”

  “Naw, he’s going to outlive us all.” She patted Jack on the shoulder as she passed by him. “Well, if no one needs my help, I have things to do.”

  “What things?” Jack followed her from the kitchen, and Kennadee breathed a sigh of relief. Zoe did make herself felt.

  Poor Dad, Kennadee thought, then smiled. At least with Zoe giving their father a run for his money, he wouldn’t have time to mess in her affair
s. She grabbed her purse. At the door, she decided to run back up to her room to change and check her face. It wasn’t for Gideon’s benefit, she told herself. It was for her benefit. Spending a little time on her appearance wasn’t a bad thing.

  Chapter 9

  Gideon fumed. His head hurt with the headache that wouldn’t leave, and his nose throbbed. The surgery he’d undergone, actually felt the best. A little sore to the touch, but with the surgery performed laparoscopically, he only had a few small incisions to worry about.

  Dr. Cooke had already arrived and given him his walking papers, along with a long list of instructions to follow. First, no lifting anything over twenty-five pounds for six weeks. Six weeks. He knew he needed to take it easy for the first couple of weeks, but he had things to do.

  Now if Dr. Bialetti would show up and take off these blasted bandages covering his eyes, he could get out of here. That is if his dad ever showed up.

  What the hell was taking everyone so long?

  The door squeaked open.

  “Where the hell have you been?” he bellowed.

  “Well, you certainly haven’t taken the term patient to heart,” a sexy, smoky voice responded, humor lacing her tone.

  “Kennadee?” He’d hoped she would return to visit with him, but she hadn’t until now.

  “Not who you were expecting?”

  “While not expecting you, I’m pleased to see you…well not see you, exactly, but I’m glad you’re here.” Geez, he stumbled over his words like an pubescent boy.

  “Any news on your eyes?”

  He heard her sit down in the chair next to the bed and turned his head to face her. “The doctor was supposed to be here hours ago to take off the bandages,” he muttered.

  “No wonder you’re in a bad mood. I’d be chopping off heads if I were in your shoes.”

  “Right! You get it.” He sighed heavily. “Why am I being blessed with your company?”

  “I’m your ride back to Heartbreak.”

  “Why isn’t my dad coming?” He didn’t want her taking him home. She’d already seen him at his weakest. She didn’t need to be around him when the doctor took off the bandages. What if he still couldn’t see? Just the thought of it, made him want to throw something. Hell, he wanted to more than throw something. He needed to demolish something. Now, he’d have to wrangle his emotions in. With his dad present, he could be himself, but he didn’t want Kennadee to know how worried and scared he was.

  “He apparently had a former commitment of some sort,” Kennadee explained. “And since I was in town, it made sense for me to fetch you home.”

  “Conned you into it, did he?”

  “Something like that.” He heard the smile in her voice.

  “Were you in town for physical therapy?”

  “Uh, yeah. How’d you know about that?”

  “My nurse, Tellie.”

  “Ah, she’s a talker, that one. Sweet, though.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you had an injury?”

  “There really wasn’t time, if you remember. Besides, it didn’t matter. Saving your life did.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “No, buts,” Kennadee said. “Now let’s not talk any more about it. I will make a full recovery, and I hear from Dr. Cooke, that you will too. Other than the scar over your left brow, but that’s going to give you a rakish appearance.”

  “Rakish, huh?”

  “Scars on men always have women flocking to them. It’s not fair. Scars on women are labeled as imperfections.”

  The door swooshed open. “How’s my patient today?” Dr. Bialetti asked. “Why Kennadee Wilde, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

  Gideon cringed at the cliché. If only he could see her. “You two know each other?”

  “That we do.” Dr. Bialetti purred. “It’s good to see you. When are we going to have that dinner you promised me?”

  “How are you doing, David?” she asked, glossing over his question.

  Gideon heard the scrape of her chair as she rose to greet David, then the sound of lips smacking. That had better be an air kiss or cheek peck.

  She’d given him a cheek peck when she’d rescued him. Christ, did she think of him as only a friend? He needed to change her perception.

  He wanted more with her. Always had.

  “So how do the two of you know each other?” Dr. Bialetti asked. “It’s not like you, Kennadee, to check up on the people you rescue.”

  “We went to high school together,” Kennadee explained.

  “Dated in high school,” Gideon corrected. “Prom.” Geez, this is getting childish.

  Before he could blurt out any more—like she’d given him her virginity—Kennadee piped in, “Our fathers are close, and we both hail from Heartbreak.”

  “I need to get down there and see that little town of yours,” Dr. Bialette said in a smooth voice. “For now, let’s take a look at Gideon’s eyes. Kennadee, would you mind turning off the light?”

  Gideon stiffened, and a cold sweat broke over his body. Now that the time was here, he didn’t know if he could deal with the outcome.

  Kennadee flicked the light switch and then returned to her chair, taking his hand in hers as if she knew what he was going through. He clutched her fingers too tight and then released the pressure, trying not to shake. He felt scissors slip under the gauze wrapped around his head, keeping the pads in place over his eyes.

  The gauze fell away, and the pads were lifted off and yet, he kept his eyes tightly shut.

  “Open your eyes,” Dr. Bialetti said, his tone reassuring.

  Gideon swallowed hard and blinked them open. At first, he didn’t see much in the darkened room, then gradually shapes came into focus.

  “Let me add some saline. You do have a nice pair of shiners from your broken nose. They should go away in about a week or so.” The doctor leaned Gideon’s head back and squirted drops in his eyes. Gideon blinked rapidly, wetting them.

  When he focused again, there she was.

  Kennadee Wilde.

  The girl who had infatuated him in high school had been a beauty, but Kennadee Wilde the woman took his breath away. She’d grown into a stunningly beautiful woman. Long mahogany-colored hair flared softly over her shoulders. Her piercing green eyes met his and she smiled, the sweetest smile he’d ever been gifted with.

  “You can see me,” she said.

  “Yes, I can see you, and you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, his voice raspy.

  “You sure know how to turn a girl’s head.”

  God, he hoped he turned hers.

  He’d already fallen in love with her voice, but now that he could see the whole package, he was a goner. He’d known in high school that she held some sort of special power over him. That power had grown.

  “Mind if I take a look at you,” Dr. Bialetti said, a sharpness to his tone. He took out a pen-flashlight and shined it in both of Gideon’s eyes. Holding up two fingers, he asked Gideon how many he held then made him follow them from side to side. “I like what I see, but if you notice any blurring, or difficultly focusing, I need to see you immediately. For now, call my office and make a follow-up appointment in two weeks.”

  “Will do, doc. And thanks.” He could afford to be generous with the man who had designs on his woman, as today he could see. He wasn’t blind. His life didn’t need to be drastically changed. He offered his hand for a shake. Dr. Bialetti shook his, and then scrawled his signature over a few papers, clicking the pen and clipping it back into his breast pocket.

  “You are free to go.”

  “Finally!”

  “Believe me, the nurses feel the same way. I’ll let them know. You’re welcome to get dressed, and we’ll wheel you out of here.”

  “I don’t need to be wheeled out.”

  “You know it’s procedure,” Dr. Bialetti said.

  “Screw procedure. I can walk out under my own steam.”

  “No, you won’t,” Kennadee said
. “You’ll do what you’re told, or I won’t be driving you home.”

  “You’d leave me here?”

  “You bet.”

  “Fine,” he conceded. He’d do anything to get out of this blasted hospital.

  “I’ll send in the nurse to help you get dressed.” Dr. Bialette turned to Kennadee. “It was really good seeing you again. It’s been too long.”

  “It was good seeing you, too, David.”

  “I’ll call you.”

  Kennadee didn’t say anything, just gave him a tight smile.

  Call her, would he? Not if Gideon had anything to say about it.

  He left and Gideon asked, “You two an item?”

  “No, we dated a few times is all. He’s nice enough.” She left it at that, turning to the closet to gather his belongings. Luckily his dad had the foresight to bring him a change of clothes the other day. The suit he’d been wearing at the time of the crash was probably in the trash, which was a tragedy as it had cost him a bundle.

  The nurse arrived.

  “I’ll pull the truck around.” Kennadee stepped out to give him privacy.

  Soon he was dressed, feeling more like himself, and sitting in a wheelchair as he was wheeled from the building. Kennadee had driven her truck to the front doors so he didn’t have to walk far. He had to admit that getting dressed had taken more out of him than he liked to admit.

  Kennadee held the passenger door open for him, and he gratefully climbed in. She skirted the hood and got in behind the wheel.

  “Will this old heap actually get us to Heartbreak?” he asked. The thing had to be thirty years old.

  Kennadee lovingly stroked the cracked dash. “She might be old, but she still purrs.” She started the engine and the old Ford fired to life. Grabbing the stick shift, Kennadee put the truck in gear and they headed out of Fairbanks.