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Wild Fire (Alaska Wild Nights Book 3)

Page 3

by Tiffinie Helmer


  They thanked the doctor and Pete followed him down the hall asking more questions. Kennadee sank into a chair, cradling her injured shoulder, the relief overwhelming. She didn’t know why she felt this way. Helping others had never produced this feeling before, but then she hadn’t known any of them, didn’t have history with them.

  Jack sat in the chair next to her and rubbed her back. “You did good.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” She straightened not wanting her dad to know how invested she was in Gideon’s condition. “How did you come to be here?”

  “I was at Heart Bait and Tackle when Trip called informing Pete about the accident. I didn’t think he should make the drive to Fairbanks on his own.”

  “Good call.”

  “I’ve also contacted your brothers to collect your truck and drive it here so you have a vehicle. I figured you wouldn’t want to leave right away.”

  He’d figured right. She wasn’t about to leave the hospital until she was satisfied that Gideon was completely out of the woods. Which was ridiculous. She hadn’t seen him in like ten years, not since he’d headed down to the lower forty-eight to attend college. Whenever he’d returned for holidays or school break, she was off doing her own thing. Their paths hadn’t crossed in all that time until a mother bear, just out of her winter den with two cubs in tow, had thrown them back together.

  Maybe her dad was right and fate had stepped in. She didn’t believe in all that new age stuff, though her sister Catriona did. Catriona was getting ready for her grand opening of Mystic Heart, a business offering stuff like dreamcatchers, homeopathic remedies, crystals and whatnots.

  Kennadee preferred to deal with what she could see and touch. Faith in a higher being or power in the universe was hard to swallow. She’d stopped believing in all that when her mother had been taken from her when she’d been seventeen. If there was a God why would he have made her mother—who had never hurt anyone in her life and who had the biggest heart of anyone Kennadee had met—suffer for so many years with leukemia before taking her life and leaving seven children motherless? In her book, that was not her definition of a loving and caring deity. And if it was, she didn’t want any part of it.

  “Holy shit, Kennadee,” Ryder said in way of a greeting as he and Dare entered the waiting room. “I can’t believe you were able to save Gideon from what we just witnessed.”

  Her twin brothers were three years her junior. They looked more identical now than a week ago as Dare had finally shaved his winter beard. If she didn’t believe spring was here to stay, all she had to do was gauge the length of Dare’s beard. Once he cut it back to stubble, winter was truly over.

  “I take it they were able to retrieve the Tahoe,” she said.

  “What was left of it,” Dare said.

  Jack shuddered next to her. “I hate knowing how much danger you put your life in.”

  “I’m fine, Dad. Don’t worry. I’m a trained professional, remember.” One who never should have risked her life for Gideon’s medical bag.

  “Any news on Gideon?” Dare asked.

  “Pete’s in with him now,” Jack informed them. “Not much we can do at this point. It’s all up to Gideon. I can’t imagine what Pete’s going through.”

  “Why don’t you take Dad home.” Kennadee gave Ryder and Dare a pointed look. “And thanks for bringing me my truck. I really appreciate it.” She took the keys Ryder offered and deposited them in her pocket.

  “It’s the least we can do for the hero of the hour,” Ryder said, affectionately messing up her hair.

  She swatted at him and smoothed her hair back into place. “Get out of here, you two.”

  “Come on, Dad,” Dare said, breaking Jack out of his daze.

  “Right.” Jack took in his three children. “I don’t think I could go on if I lost one of you. I already lost your mother, and you seven were the only thing that kept me going, but—” his voice broke.

  “Come on, Dad, don’t think like that.” Kennadee took him in her arms. “We Wildes are a tough bunch.”

  “She’s right,” Dare said. “It doesn’t do any good to entertain what ifs.”

  Between him and Kennadee, Jack worried about them the most what with Dare off racing his dogs in the most formidable terrain in the world, in hostile temperatures, in the wild where anything could happen, and Kennadee rushing into burning buildings and smoke jumping into raging wildfires.

  “Since we’re in town, let’s head over to the Food Factory,” Ryder suggested.

  “There you go, thinking with your stomach,” Jack said, trying for some levity even though it didn’t reach his haunted eyes.

  “There’s only two things he does think with, the other being lower than his stomach,” Dare teased.

  “All right, you two,” Kennadee stepped in. She never knew what her twin brothers would do—conspire together or break out in a fight. Either way, they needed to get her dad out of here. Hospitals always resurrected memories of their mother, causing him to slide back into depression for a while.

  It was about time he started dating.

  She made a mental note to talk to Sorene and Catriona about it. Since Jack had meddled in their love lives, she bet they’d like to return the favor.

  Ryder slapped her on the shoulder, and she winced, gasping.

  “What’s wrong?” Jack asked. “Your shoulder? Did you reinjure it? You did, didn’t you? Why didn’t you say something? We need to find you a doctor, and where the hell is your sling?”

  “Dad! Stop, I’m fine. I saw the doctor this morning and he told me I could lose the sling.” But the way her shoulder felt right now, she wished she were wearing it again.

  “I want you checked out. Now,” Jack demanded. “I’m not leaving here until you promise me you’ll see the doctor.” He planted his feet and folded his arms across his chest. When her father looked like that, there was no budging him. He also knew that if he got Kennadee to promise, she would keep her word.

  “Okay, I promise,” she said through clenched teeth. “Now let Dare and Ryder take you home.”

  Jack made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. “Fine. But you better call me later after you see the doctor.”

  “Dad—”

  “Don’t ‘Dad’ me. Just do it.”

  “Okay, I will.”

  “Now was that so hard?” He kissed her forehead. “Be a good girl. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Dad.”

  Dare gave her a sympathetic look while Ryder smirked. He would find humor in their dad fussing and treating her like a child. But then she was his child.

  “Get out of here, you guys.” She blew them a kiss and breathed a sigh of relief when they left her alone. She sank back in her chair, cradling her arm next to her chest.

  She only had a few moments alone when Pete appeared.

  “He’s asking for his rescuer.”

  Chapter 5

  Kennadee inched open the hospital door and peeked in. Gideon lay on the bed, an IV tube in his arm, and other contraptions hooked up to him, monitoring his vitals. His eyes were covered with stark white bandages, sutures threaded the gash on his forehead, and tape covered his broken nose. He looked like he’d lost a fight with a heavy-weight boxer.

  “Gideon?” she whispered his name, not wanting to wake him if he slept.

  “Hey,” he responded, reaching out his hand that wasn’t attached to the IV. She rushed to his side to take it in hers. “Thank you. I owe you my life.”

  “No, you don’t.” The words “I was just doing my job” were on the tip of her tongue, but they didn’t feel right. She’d done more than her job and she was vested more than she should be. She wished she could shake these feelings. They made her uncomfortable.

  “You know in some cultures, when you save someone’s life, that life is now your responsibility.”

  “I refuse to be responsible for you,” she teased. “I know you Rasmussens.”

  He chuckled and then winced.

  “Are y
ou in pain? Would you like me to get someone for you?”

  “No, I’m fine. Just don’t make me laugh.”

  She took him in trying to match the man before her with the boy she remembered fondly.

  “I should have recognized who you were, Kennadee Wilde. Your voice has gotten smokier, sexier. I still hear your voice in my dreams sometimes.”

  He dreamt about her? “Why would you dream of me?”

  “If you tell me you don’t remember our one night together, I’ll die of a broken heart right here.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that. No one forgets their first time.”

  “Wait, that was your first time too?” He’d seemed to have known what he was doing.

  “My ego just doubled if you didn’t guess from my fumbling that I’d never had a girl naked before.”

  “You seemed to know what you were about. Not many women enjoy their first time.”

  “So…are you saying you enjoyed our time together?”

  “Well, since you’re in a hospital bed, I’ll cut you some slack and say yes.”

  “Still brutal in your honesty, aren’t you?”

  “To a fault.”

  “When I get out of here, I think you owe me another chance to prove myself.”

  “You did not just ask to sleep with me again. I’m going to chalk up your proposition to the morphine coursing through your veins.”

  “A date then? You have a lot to make up to me.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes, we had the one date, prom, then we slept together. You had me elated with puppy love and then you dashed everything by refusing to go out with me again. You have no idea what that did to my ego.”

  “Your ego seems healthy enough now.” Though she did have a pang of regret that she might have hurt him all those years ago. She hadn’t been very tactful back then. Hell, who was she kidding, she wasn’t tactful now. The filters most people had in place had never developed within her.

  “Tell me then why you refused to go out with me again? I have to admit, while you might not have broken my heart, it took a beating.”

  She squirmed in her chair, glad that he couldn’t see her. “I made myself a promise back then not to date any man more than once. I wasn’t about to be shackled to anyone.” Or fall hard like her sister Sorene had over Ash Bleu. Sorene and Ash started seeing each other their freshman year of high school, were already talking about getting married by junior year, until her mother had died, and Sorene had cut Ash loose. Seeing her dad and Sorene so heartbroken had Kennadee swearing off relationships. She didn’t want to love anyone like that, never wanted to feel that kind of pain.

  “And now?” Gideon asked. While the question had been expressed with casual curiosity, Kennadee could tell her answer was important to him.

  “Truth?”

  “Remember I’ve stared the Grim Reaper in the eye today.”

  She chuckled as he’d meant her to. “I’ve been known to date someone more than once. Though in truth, three is usually my limit.” Her life didn’t support anything long lasting, not when she was rushing off to parts unknown in the summers and courting danger in the winters.

  “Good to know. What are you doing the day after they release me?”

  She laughed again. “And you know when you will be released?”

  “Of course. They’ll keep me for a few days, but I should be out of here Friday. So, Saturday night, are you free?”

  How did she say no? “I’d be delighted, but let’s make it Sunday.” She doubted he’d feel like a date the day after being released from the hospital. Chances are he’d cancel on her once the nice drugs he was under wore off.

  Chapter 6

  Doctors made the worst patients. Gideon had been told that but being on this side of the hospital bed was a first for him, and he hoped never to repeat the experience.

  Still being unable to see, contributed to his surliness. While understanding that, it didn’t soften his attitude. He couldn’t read or watch TV, all he could do was lay there in the dark.

  His dad had brought him an audio book, but he couldn’t navigate the device it was loaded on. Once someone turned on the book, he was fine for a bit, but when he’d attempted to turn it off, he’d failed, and then he couldn’t remember where in the book he’d been. The result of that activity had him tossing the iPad/Kindle/Nook—whatever it was—across the room.

  That had been the most satisfying. So, satisfying that throwing things became his knee-jerk reaction. The fake cheerfulness of the nurses irritated him. Dr. Cooke—on his morning rounds—understood his predicament but didn’t sympathize. If anything, he seemed to take pleasure in Gideon’s situation.

  “You’ll be a better doctor with your patients, by being one yourself,” Dr. Cooke had told him that morning when Gideon had demanded to be released so he could go home. Dr. Cooke wasn’t so accommodating, while Gideon knew the nurses would love to see the last of him.

  “Sorry, can’t do it,” Dr. Cooke said. “Not until your red blood cell count is up.”

  “All I’m doing is laying here. I can do that at home,” he growled.

  “According to your file, home is in Heartbreak, fifty miles from here, and there isn’t a hospital there. The only doctor in residence is you. So, the answer is no. Again. Keep it up and I’ll assign you our own Nurse Ratched.”

  At least a Nurse Ratched type could handle having random things thrown in her direction, rather than burst into tears like the young nurse had last night when he’d tossed his uneatable meal of limp broccoli, tasteless meat—if it was meat—and mealy potatoes.

  “When can you take off the eye bandages?” If he could see shapes or differentiate between light and dark his mood would improve tremendously. Not knowing if he’d be able to see again was enough to drive him to the psych ward.

  “Dr. Bialetti will be in tomorrow to assess your progress after yesterday’s ocular irrigation. For now, his instructions are to leave the bandages in place.”

  He had a date with Kennadee Sunday night. Though he didn’t know how’d he accomplish that if he was still blind. The last thing he wanted was for her to be his seeing-eye dog.

  “Like I said, you aren’t going anywhere until your red blood cell count is in acceptable levels. Let it rest. No amount of complaining or throwing fits will change my mind.”

  Gideon ground his teeth, hearing the scratch of a pen as Dr. Cooke wrote something down in his chart.

  “Your nurse will be in to see you in a bit to get you up for a walk, so you have that to look forward to.”

  “Woohoo,” he said sarcastically.

  “You’re lucky, on the schedule today is Tellie. She’s cute, proficient, and upbeat.”

  “That’s an improvement from the young, timid one yesterday.”

  “See, something to be grateful for. I’ll check in on you tomorrow morning. Be nice to my nurses.” With that he left Gideon alone in the heavy silence. One of the nurses—Betty, Beatrice, or Barbara—had suggested leaving the TV on for him to listen to. But that had driven him crazy. First of all, Fairbanks Memorial only had three channels. A twenty-four-news channel—listening to the news all day would be enough to drive anyone to suicide. A children’s channel with someone called Dora on a loop, and some oldies station. There was only so much a person could take of cheesy sitcoms from the 70s and 80s. Though he had to admit, he’d enjoyed the reruns of The Golden Girls. Those sassy old broads were ahead of their time.

  The door creaked open, and a bouncy voice grated, “Hello, hello!”

  Christ, the cheerful RN.

  “Ready for a stroll Mr. Rasmussen?”

  “Dr. Rasmussen,” he muttered. “Why the hell not? It’s not like I have a booked schedule.”

  She laughed, the sound like Christmas bells. “I’m a lucky girl then to have you all to myself.” She pulled the blanket back, and he heard her fiddling with the IV stand, and felt her unstrapping his automatic blood pressure cuff. She took his arm and slowly h
elped him gain his feet.

  “Just rest here for a moment. We don’t want you fainting.”

  “I don’t faint.” What man wanted fainting to be associated with him?

  “Whatever you prefer to call it, we don’t want you doing it. How are you feeling? Light-headed at all?”

  “Fine,” he gritted out.

  “Shall we head outside? It’s a beautiful spring day. Feeling the sun on your face will do wonders for you, I promise.”

  He grunted, and she took that as an agreement and started up a string of conversation he thankfully didn’t have to participate in.

  She talked nonstop. Cheerful was a tame word to describe her. He half ignored her while she led him down the hall and through sliding doors. He took a deep breath of fresh, non-circulated air when they stepped outside.

  The sun was warm on his face, and it did make him feel better. Guess Tellie knew her stuff. She led him slowly down a path, continuing with her insistent chatter. He came to an abrupt halt when she mentioned Kennadee’s name.

  “Are you all right, Dr. Rasmussen? Would you like to sit down? There’s a bench just a few feet ahead.”

  “Yes, I need to sit.” She helped him onto the wooden bench. “Did you say Kennadee? Kennadee Wilde?”

  “Yes, I did. I just love her. I heard she saved your life.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “I’m a friend, and she’s consulted with me on her physical therapy. I moonlight as a therapist.”

  “Why is she seeing a physical therapist?”

  “For her dislocated shoulder, of course. You must have noticed she wasn’t at a hundred percent when she pulled you from the accident. She’d been on the mend, from falling off that ladder a week ago while fighting a three-alarm fire. My brother is a firefighter and worked the same fire. They’ve dated a few times as well as work together. He’s completely infatuated with her. She has that effect on men. Her actions, yanking you from that deathtrap the other day has set back her recovery. There was a full-page article in the Daily News Miner with pictures written up about your accident. She’s about as ornery of a patient as you are. Maybe more so.”

 

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