7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Ellie
I tuck the last of my student's colorful drawings into my satchel, feeling the weight of another week lift slightly off my shoulders. The classroom is now quiet, a complete contrast to the chaos that filled it only ten minutes ago. I let out a slow breath, trying to shake off my exhaustion. It's finally Friday and I'm planning to sleep the entire weekend, probably with some wine. Well, not the entire weekend because I do have some homework and assignments to grade.
As I zip up my large bag , Danielle breezes over. Her chestnut hair is pulled back in her signature bun, a pop of red lipstick giving away her evening plans, probably a date. "So what's your weekend look like?" she asks.
I force a smile, wishing I could match her enthusiasm. I'm sure my weekend sounds lame but I think I'm still recovering from the fire ordeal over two weeks ago. I inhaled a lot of smoke so the doctors said my body will take time to recover, and I keep having bad dreams about it. Scary dreams. "Oh, you know," I tell her. "Just the usual—laundry, groceries, grading homework."
"Come on," she nudges, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let's do something fun. A girls' night out, or maybe a hike? We could use some fun after..." Her voice trails off, and the air between us fills with the unspoken memory of raging flames and smoke-filled skies.
My heart pounds, thinking of how close I was to not making it out of there. If Jake hadn't...
My forced smile gets wider. "Thanks, but I think I'll just cocoon at home."
Danielle frowns, not fooled by my expression. She places a hand on my arm. "It's okay not to be okay, you know. That fire was traumatic."
I shake my head. I'm not ready to talk about it yet, not even with Danielle. "Oh, it's...I'm okay. I'm managing."
"You sure you're okay?"
"Yup." Everyone keeps asking me that, but I'm just ready to put the entire experience behind me. Well, maybe not that kiss with Jake.
Danielle hugs me. "Alright. But if you change your mind, you have my number."
I sling my bag over my shoulder, turning to face the weekend with as much bravery as I can muster. "See you Monday."
With a final wave, we part ways, and I step out into the gloomy afternoon. The parking lot is nearly empty, the sky a canvas of gray, echoing my mood. At least it's not storming like it was earlier. It has been raining the past couple of days and the wind this morning was nuts. A chill runs through me despite my cardigan.
I search the parking lot until I see the taxi waiting for me—a ride I ordered since my old, reliable car was a casualty to the wildfire. I really need to start hunting for a replacement soon. But for now, I slip into the back seat of the taxi, grateful for the temporary shelter from the biting cold.
As the cab navigates rain-slicked streets, my thoughts drift to the only bright spot lately—Jake. I actually haven't seen him since he rescued me. He's been away battling the fire, but that doesn't mean he isn't on my mind constantly. His strong arms pulling me close, his lips pressed against mine—a kiss that felt like both an anchor and a storm. It was irrational, kissing him like that, but in that heated moment, I just didn't care. I had just escaped death and all I could think about was finding safety and warmth with him. I needed that kiss to comfort and ground me. I just needed him.
But what has been confusing me was how he kissed me back. He was so passionate and hungry, as if driven by raw need. I'd never been kissed like that before. It felt magical, even in the midst of a life-threatening disaster.
My pulse quickens at the memory, my cheeks warming. I have no idea what I'll say to him when I finally see him again. I have no idea what I want.
But I'm sure it will be awhile. I heard on the news they're getting the fire contained, but that doesn't mean it's over. I only hope he's okay.
Maybe my deep concern is a sign I should forget the kiss; I already worry enough about my brother risking his life. Do I really want two firefighters in my life I fear I'll never see again?
My phone rings, jolting me out of the whirlwind of memories and what-ifs about Jake. I fumble in my purse, the screen lighting up with Marcus's name. Speak of the devil . He's probably calling again for the hundredth time to check on me. I appreciate his concern but he can definitely be overbearing.
A knot forms in my stomach as I press the phone to my ear. "Hey, what's up?"
"Ellie, thank God. Are you okay? You're not at home, right?" His voice is more tense than I anticipated, a mix of relief and fear.
"Um, I'm in a taxi on my way home," I reply, my voice steady despite the tremor of anxiety that his tone causes. "Why? What's going on?"
"Listen, there's been an accident at your place. I'm glad you're not there."
"An accident?" I lean forward, clutching the phone tighter. "What kind of accident?"
"I can't get into it right now; I'm in the middle of work emergencies, but it's bad, Ellie." He pauses, and I can almost hear him running a hand through his sandy hair in frustration. "I'll come by later to pick you up. You can stay at my place for now."
"Hey, wait—" But he's already hung up. My mind races with possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. What the heck happened to my apartment?
I close my eyes. My string of bad luck lately just doesn't want to end, does it? Whatever happened, I just hope no one is hurt. At least I know Jake and Charlotte also aren't home since I haven't seen them there in a few weeks. I see Charlotte at school in the halls, and I’ve heard her teacher talking about behavioral problems, so I'm guessing she's staying with family while her Dad is out battling fires.
My chest warms again at the thought of Jake—such a strong, heroic man.
"Everything okay?" the taxi driver asks, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
"Hope so," I mutter, trying not to worry too much until I know what happened.
We pull up to my duplex, and my heart sinks. The scene before me looks like a still shot from a disaster movie. Police cars, their lights silently screaming danger, and a fire truck are stationed outside my mangled home. There's a huge tree laying on top of it, the roof completely smashed. I can even see into the living room.
"Miss, are you sure you want to get out here?" the taxi driver asks.
"Yeah. This is my home. Or it used to be." I grab my stuff and then fumble with the door handle. I step out into the chaos. Surprisingly, I'm not even that worried. This is really nothing when compared to surviving a forest fire, and I think I'm just too exhausted to truly react.
One way or another, I'll deal with this.
"Ellie!" Asher's familiar gruff voice calls out to me. He's in his firefighting gear. He jogs over to me.
"Hey, Asher," I say, forcing yet another smile today. "Good thing the landlord forced me to get insurance, huh?"
My attempt at humor doesn't hit and he only looks concerned. "It's good it happened while you were at work," he says, his deep blue eyes scanning the damage. "We've put a tarp over what we can for now. Your landlord is handling everything. Cleanup crew will be here first thing in the morning."
"Thanks, that's...great." I close my eyes for a moment, trying to steady myself. I think it's finally hitting me because there's a lump forming in my throat.
Asher puts a large hand gently on my shoulder. "Did you talk to Marcus? He's across town and probably going to be busy for a while. I can call Olivia to give you a ride to—"
"No, it's..." I look up at him, touching his hand that's on my shoulder. "Sorry, I'm just a bit overwhelmed. Where are my manners? Thank you. Thank you for covering the hole and...for just being here." My eyes get misty so I turn away.
"You sure I can't call Olivia?"
I shake my head. "Marcus said he'd pick me up, so I'll just wait here."
"Just don't go inside. It's not structurally safe. But I can grab you a few things. Anything you want me to get?"
I give him a soft smile, a real one this time. He might look like a mountain man who wrestles bears for fun, but he's always had a soft spot for those in trouble. He was always like that, even when we were teenagers and I got irritated at him for always eating the last of my favorite cereal.
"Could you just grab my laptop, some clothes, and a box of keepsakes? Laptop and clothes are in my bedroom. Box is in the hallway closet. Everything else..." I shrug. "It can wait."
"Consider it done." He turns towards the wreckage, then looks back at me. "You gonna be okay?"
"Define okay," I shoot back with a half-hearted chuckle, but Asher's already heading inside.
A little while later, I'm sitting on the curb next to some luggage that Asher managed to pack for me. There's a police car still here, but the fire truck and Asher are gone. Marcus is taking forever to pick me up, but I understand his job is unpredictable like that. I really don't want to stay with him, though—I got enough of living with him while we grew up together. We drove each other crazy growing up under the same roof.
Glancing at the remains of my duplex, I contemplate my limited options for temporary housing. I could call Danielle, but I don't want to get in the way of her dating life, which has been pretty active lately. Besides that, my other option is a hotel. But with the expense plus needing to buy a new car, it doesn't seem practical. Still, it may be better than the alternatives.
As I'm weighing the choices, an unfamiliar black SUV pulls up, the driver rolling down his window. "Ms. Carter?"
"Um...yes?" Well, this is strange. I glance at the cop car, happy it's still here in case this guy is a creep.
The window rolls back up. A moment later, a man in a suit walks around the front of the car. He smiles warmly at me. "Hi. I'm here to pick you up."
I stare for a moment, my mouth hanging open. "Pick me up?"
"Yes, miss."
"For what? I didn't order a car...Oh, did Marcus send you?" I didn't think he had it in him to send a fancy car with a driver, but sometimes he surprises me.
"No, miss. Jake Wilder asked me to pick you up. I'm his driver."
His what?
I must look completely lost and confused because the man chuckles and reaches for my luggage. "Shall I put these in the back?"
I'm still so shocked that I just nod and go along. Why or how does Jake have a personal chauffeur? Jake's always been Mr. Practicality, counting pennies and planning for Charlotte's future. I also know that firefighters don't make a ton of money, so...How does a private driver fit into that picture?
The driver already has my things loaded in the car as I'm barely standing up. "Wait. Where are we going?" I ask.
"To Mr. Wilder's ranch. He’s inviting you to stay with him. Shall we go?"
I nod mindlessly. "Ranch...right."
Now Jake has a ranch? I really don't know what reality I slipped into, but my body moves on its own accord, propelled by sheer exhaustion and a nagging curiosity about Jake—there's clearly a lot I don't know about that man. And I really want to find out.
Quickly, I send Marcus a text to tell him I'm staying at a hotel for the night, sensing that he'd totally flip if he knew I was staying with Jake. Then I climb into the SUV, wondering what I'm about to get myself into.