Rescued (A McKenzie Ridge Novel Book 1)

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  “Interesting. We can play it that way. So, where are you from, what brought you to McKenzie Ridge to play super, hunky hero that saves lives?” She bit her tongue, a second too late, she really needed to quit offering him her thoughts so easily—hunky? Really? Shoot me now, she thought.

  “Super hunky? Okay, I can work with that. Well, about 10 years ago my entire family died in a plane crash. I was the only one left, so I left. I was supposed to be on that plane.” He paused briefly, questioning how much was too much, before continuing. “I traveled a bit, but nothing felt like home except McKenzie Ridge. I grew up coming to this area. My uncle had a cabin not far from here. He would bring in all the cousins and we would spend a few weeks together every summer,” Dawson shared in a less than tactful way, not intentionally delivering a shocking admission.

  “I had no idea, Dawson, I’m sorry. That must’ve been awful. What am I saying, of course it was awful. I didn’t mean to…” She was shocked and at a loss for words, which didn’t happen often to her.

  “Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t have known, and it was a long time ago. Isn’t this why we’re here? To get to know each other? Your turn…spill it.” He wasn’t sure why he was sharing this, but the words just fell out displaying his past, like clothes on the line.

  “Spill it? Oh, yes, well, I grew up kind of all over, literally. My dad left before I was one, and my mom doesn’t do single or broke, so we followed several stepdads around before landing here. That’s when I met Evie and Granny Lou; they became my family. The rest is history.” Simple and to the point, that was the sweet and short of it, and all she felt like sharing. It’s not exactly a warm and fuzzy story in its entirety.

  “What about your mom?” Confused by her admission, he briefly paused before questioning the obvious; there wasn’t anyone else that he knew of, living in the Taylor or Shaw household. Where was the rest of her family?

  “What about her? She’s out there somewhere married or chasing—gotta be around husband nine or ten…not sure which.” She was good at saying that with a straight face now, years of practice under her belt, and she had finally convinced herself that it didn’t bother her. “Once we were here she trusted Gran, so she would ‘go on trips’, and I would stay with Gran and Evie. Eventually her trips became longer and more often, so she gave Gran guardianship and that was that.”

  “So she just left you?” Wincing at his own question, natural curiosity reared its head and got ahead of him. He didn’t mean to ask such a pointed question, but he was genuinely shocked by her story. How does a mother just leave?

  “Well, no, yes, I don’t know, I guess. It was better that way. I got Gran and Ev, and got to go to the same school every year, have roots, and it worked out for me.” She honestly felt that way, they were family, more so than her mother or the countless stepdads ever were. “I couldn’t imagine how my life would have turned out if I’d stayed with her, chasing man after man—what kind of life is that for a kid? Who even does that, besides Bette Morrison, serial bride and man chaser.”

  “Wow, that’s…I don’t even know what that is. Let’s move on to something else. What do you like to do when you aren’t at the hospital, playing super seductive nurse, and saving lives?”

  That earned him a spirited laugh, one that was deep and spontaneous, he liked that, and hoped he saw more of that Sam. The morning continued on as they shared simplicities in a light, non-date manner, like what their hobbies were, favorite foods, and several other nonsensical things that ended as a very nice and enjoyable breakfast together.

  ***

  Granny Lou spreads gossip like wildfire, but only the good kind, if you asked her. Mornings at Baker’s were like a game of telephone. By the time the morning rush ended, juicy gossip got a whole lot juicier…steamy even. She knew a couple when she saw it and Sam and Dawson were a mighty handsome one. They would make beautiful babies, in her wise, old, never wrong opinion.

  Spunk, honesty, and say it how it is, Granny Lou is a real kick in the pants. The old lady lacked a filter, but at least she was always honest. If you didn’t like what you heard, it was probably because you needed to do some soul searching. Wisdom spewed as fluidly as the sarcasm. There wasn’t a person around who didn’t love this lady. Her ears occasionally strayed into other people’s business, and she was known to share stories…gossip, but her heart was always in the right place. Gardening, horses, match making, and saving lost souls were her hobbies.

  Granny Lou lost her husband 20 years ago and never remarried; she didn’t even date really. She believed in only one true love and she already had that. Tragedy followed again just a few short years later, when her only son and daughter-in-law were lost in a tragic accident. As the only living relative, willing and able, Gran took in her granddaughter, Everly, and they saved each other.

  Everly was part of a package deal, her best friend, Sam, came with her…most of the time. Sam’s mother was more interested in men than her own daughter, leaving at any given moment to chase her true love—money. Granny loved that child like her own, and preferred to have her around. She didn’t trust the life her mama was providing, so there they were, a family.

  Dawson and Sam hadn’t even seen her when she stopped in for a caffeine fix, to chase the doughy, sugar fix she ordered to go, but Granny sure saw them, happy with what she was seeing. Sam was going to be harder to sell, but Lou saw something brewing, whether the two of them wanted it or not. Fate never got it wrong, and neither did Louise Shaw.

  She just needed to draw it out for them, give them a road map of sorts, if necessary. She didn’t know Dawson’s story, nobody did really, but she knew Sam’s, and her gut told her Dawson was a good boy with a lost soul…nothing a little love couldn’t fix. This was going to be her biggest triumph yet, and she was already patting herself on the back and high-fiving herself.

  That was the benefit and burden of living in a small town—everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows everything. It was a foregone conclusion, half the town was already buzzing about Taylor and Tayler. Bets were probably waging on the unlikely twosome, too.

  ***

  As expected, Taylor and Tayler were the main topic of conversation around the hospital and at the House. Both found themselves defending their new routine morning breakfasts as just that, two people that need to eat before ending their day and starting over. The gang at the House was a little less forgiving, taking every opportunity they could to rub in the fact that Dawson was dating.

  “Seriously bro, you guys have been at Baker’s every morning for weeks. That’s dating. Getting any perks? I bet she’s full of…” Colton started the ribbing; he was a relationship guy, or wanted to be, anyway.

  “Shut it, Sparks, they aren’t dates. You have breakfast and dinner with Blake here all the time, you two dating, man?” Dawson knew he was being overly sensitive, but protecting whatever it was he had with Sam felt instinctive; it was off limits, even to the people that know them best. “Do you get burns from his scruff? I bet you like a good beard burn.”

  ”Go to hell, Tayler, this is between you and Sparks, besides, he’s not my type.” Blake Cooper could take a joke, dish a few good ones himself, but giving beard burns to Sparks wasn’t funny. He’d rather it be a five-foot nothin’ spit fire, but it just wasn’t in the cards, for now.

  “What do you mean, I’m not your type?” Sparks shot back. “Have you seen alllll this? You wish I played for the same team.”

  “Neither of you is worth a hissy fit, get over yourselves.” Jessie was a good sport, but boy banter annoyed the crap out of her, and this was a shut the eff up moment. Sometimes she was better at being one of the guys, than the guys, which was her way of surviving in a man’s trade, all five feet three inches of her. “If Tayler says they aren’t dating, then they aren’t dating. Some people are just casual that way, friends with benefits, if ya know what I mean.”

  “Of course you had to go there; thought you were offering support from the female regime. Guess you l
eft all your estrogen at home?” Appreciating her input, crass as it was, crap from Jessie was a compliment, and Dawson welcomed it.

  “Suck it, Dawson, like seriously hard.” A classic Jessie Clarke response—vulgar.

  “Spoken like a true lady. Look, Daws, it’s no one’s business what you are doing, she’s a nice girl. Who wouldn’t get buns every morning if they could? ”

  “And there it is…I expected more from you, Morgan. And, its fritters. We eat fritters.”

  “Alright, lay off guys. You are all just jealous that Tayler has someone to have breakfast with and none of you do,” Carigan interjected, always kind, always level headed, although around the same age. Carigan O’Reilly was the mother of the bunch, always making sure everyone was okay. “Daws, I do want to point out as your partner, and the person you spend most of your time with, that you do seem to be a lot happier these days. I hear she’s getting the same crap over at the ER, and survey says she has been smiling non-stop for weeks now. Non-dating looks good on you.”

  “Thanks for having my back, O’Reilly. So I make her smile? Huh, interesting.”

  Dawson could always count on Carigan to have his back, that’s why they worked so well together, they watched out for each other, understood each other. He knew the gang was just giving him crap, they were his family, and that’s what families do. He would partake if it were any of them, but for some reason he felt Sam was off limits to them. They weren’t dating, but they certainly were more than just colleagues, something about that was both exciting and frightening.

  ***

  It had been several weeks of mornings at Baker’s, it wasn’t even a question anymore, just a see you there standing arrangement. They even found themselves there together, on a couple days off, not breaking routine. He was really enjoying Sam, getting to know her, spending time with her, it was like they were old friends, rather than new friends. He didn’t know what this was, where it was going, but he really liked it, even if it was kind of like dating.

  Today was much different than those the past few weeks, their routine had been challenged and Sam didn’t like it. Dawson was one of the only EMTs that wasn’t attached, didn’t have family or consistent outside commitments to speak of, so he picked up a lot of the extra shifts to cover for those who needed the time off. He wasn’t going to be at Baker’s because he was picking up a few extra hours to help out one of the guys at the House.

  The sexual tension had been building. Far too many times had they found themselves in precarious situations, nearly in the throes of passion, before one of them broke the spell, remembering where they were, just in time. Having public get-togethers was their saving grace as neither was much of an exhibitionist, privacy would certainly lead to one thing. They would keep things very public, for now.

  Sam craved this regular daily custom, the idea of not seeing Dawson for breakfast left her with an unfamiliar and unwelcome sense of melancholy. She had the day off, her schedule was fairly open, so she suggested they meet for lunch at the pavilion in the park since she would already be over that way. It was the perfect solution, even if it did concern her that she needed a solution.

  The park was large, several acres, surrounded by the beauty that was McKenzie Ridge—full of nature, views of the surrounding mountains, and of course, lots of people. The pavilion was nestled at the far end of the park, near the local equestrian center, Sugar Pine Stables, that bordered the east side. Not only could you rent rafts, canoes, and inner tubes to take down the creek, as well as rods and bait to fish, but you could also find some of the best hoagies and fried anything in town.

  Dawson was elated by her desire to take this non-dating breakfast in a new direction, even if he was somewhat surprised. Even after all this time, and no matter how much she seemed to enjoy their non-dates, she was still pretty guarded with him. He would work on that, but this was progress, even if only slightly. Something in her past really made a mark on her. He briefly thought it was the mother that kept leaving her, but something said there was more to this elusive event that erected walls around Sam. What was she protecting herself from, really?

  It was a beautiful midsummer day, clear blue skies, and a gentle breeze to keep the day’s heat at bay. The park was alive with people and nature alike, and mind blowing views of surrounding mountain peaks, and landscapes—the perfect non-date spot. They ordered their food and found a nice table under a large, shady tree, picking up where they left off from their last non-date. The squirrels and birds provided the entertainment, fighting over the food they scavenged for, keeping the afternoon light and easy.

  “So what brought you to the park today anyway? You mentioned that you would already be over this way,” Dawson prodded, curious to find out the real reason they were there for lunch, rather than their typical morning meeting.

  “Oh, I was next door, at Sugar Pine Stables, I’m there every week.”

  “Every week? You ride?”

  “Of course I can ride, but that’s not why I go.” She shifted in her seat, regretting her reply because she didn’t have a good answer as to why she was really there, if not to ride.

  Dawson sensed some kind of unease and hesitation coming from her, like a secret spilled before she could catch it. She promptly tried to reel it in and deflect whatever it was she thought she just divulged. What was there to be uncomfortable about with going to Sugar Pine Stables every week, it’s an equestrian center, lots of people like horses and even volunteer. Perhaps this was part of the wall she had built around her, too personal, she was letting him in faster than she was contented with.

  “So you volunteer?”

  “No, well, not really. I’m friends with Rene who runs it, and Morgan Jameson goes often, Everly does too for Search and Rescue stuff. I guess it just kind of rubbed off, something we all have in common,” Sam replied, satisfied with her answer.

  “Oh I forgot that they had a new person over there—Rene, that’s right. She is so familiar to me, but can’t put my finger on it.” Dawson’s mind wandered, recalling seeing Rene Garcia at Sugar Pine’s, and how oddly familiar she seemed, but the feeling must not have been mutual, because she never gave any indication she already knew him.

  “I thought that about Rene too! So familiar, she must have one of those faces because she isn’t from around here.” Sam recalled her first meeting with Rene, it was like running into an old friend from junior high, a serious case of déjà vu.

  “Maybe sometime we can go riding then. Have you ever been up the trails along the creek to the peaks? It’s a pack your lunch and ride all day kind of adventure.” Innuendo delivered, Dawson gave her a wink and left it at that.

  “I haven’t been up to the peaks. That might be fun,” she countered, making it clear that his message was received and quickly shot down. “So how were your fried mushrooms and spicy mustard, sour dog sausage thing?” She chuckled.

  The awkward change of subject and distracting laughter over his peculiar food combination that followed wasn’t lost on him. She really wasn’t comfortable talking about Sugar Pine and what it was to her. He would have to explore that. What was so secretive about the horses, or was it something about the horse stables? The more she became a mystery, the more intrigued he became.

  “It’s a beer brat, spicy mustard and sauerkraut, and it was delicious. My dad used to say, ’That’ll put hair on your chest.’ Try one next time!” He said, beating his chest with a closed fist.

  A stunned look of familiarity crossed her face at his statement, and was gone as quickly as it came. Interesting. He was missing a piece of this puzzle, a big piece. He didn’t like secrets, but until he could whittle away at that wall of hers some more, it would have to be explored another day.

  “Good, it smelled awful. I’ll stick to hoagies, corndogs, and curly fries with lots of ranch dressing—the good stuff, but thanks! You ready to head out?”

  ***

  Always a gentleman, he gathered their empty trays and wrappers and disposed of them while sh
e waited for him next to the table. Dawson had grabbed her hand at some point, as they walked to the parking lot to part ways and say goodbye. She let him hold it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world and completely part of their non-dating routine. The more her mind sent up red flags and warnings, the more her heart reached for her guy. Her guy, she didn’t know when he became her guy or all that it entailed, but she had conceded and decided to live in the moment, for now.

  It felt good. He felt good. Sam didn’t know what possessed her to suggest they break routine and meet for lunch. Their shifts had crossed that day, rather than be on par with each other. The idea of breaking their morning routine at Baker’s and not seeing him for the day, actually disappointed her. Before she could stop herself, she had asked Dawson to meet her for lunch in the Pavilion, at the park.

  It still wasn’t a date, no, she didn’t date, but a lunch companion is always nice. Sam liked Dawson, in a friends who have coffee after work every single day and lunch when breakfast isn’t in the schedule, kind of way. Friends held hands, and she liked how his big calloused hand felt, wrapped around hers. She wondered where they would feel elsewhere.

  That was all she was capable of having with a man, it was all she had room for, and all she was willing to let in. Friends. He was something to be looked at, there was no question there, he was what every good author wanted on the cover of their sexy books. Yes, Dawson was sex, the kind that sells! A lot! So she would stick to having a really smoking hot, sexy friend.

  Sam found that he was more than just inspiration when she broke out her battery operated best friend. There was much more to this man, the real Dawson was showing his true colors more and more, and she was enjoying him. It wasn’t just those rippling muscles that hid beneath those t-shirts of his, or how amazing his ass looked in those navy cargo pants he wore for work, or how they squeezed his thighs that made her burn and have to sit sideways, sending her mind straight to the gutter where she could hang out for days.