Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Scarlett
T he cold tile comforts me after spending all night and morning hugging the toilet. I feel so weak I can barely move. I had a meeting with a client in Greendale Valley oddly enough. I haven’t been here since my bachelorette party a little over six or seven weeks ago. Just a week before the failed event that was supposed to be my would-be wedding. When my client asked for a face-to-face meeting to discuss the plans for their dream home, I came.
If I’m being honest, it was nice to get away for a bit. I didn’t have time to explore this little town on my last visit, so I booked a room in a local B and B for a couple nights. We had salads at our lunch meeting, and I started feeling queasy not long after. I must have food poisoning.
I try to sit up and feel queasy again. I’ve got to be dehydrated from all the vomiting. I think I may need to get some IV fluids or something. I spy my phone on the floor next to me where I left it and contemplate calling Anna to come get me. I don’t need to drive in this state.
But I can’t wait for the hour or so it’d probably take her to get here the way I’m feeling. I decide to call the front desk of the B&B. A woman answers but it doesn’t sound like the woman who checked me in yesterday.
“Uh, yes, I’m in room twelve. I’m afraid I’ve contracted a bad case of food poisoning and may be dehydrated. I didn’t want to call an ambulance if I didn’t have to, but I don’t think I’m in any shape to drive myself to the hospital. Are there any transportation services that could take me? A cab or something? I can call an ambulance, but I didn’t want to alarm you or the other guests,” I manage to say while keeping my urge to dry heave again at bay.
“Oh no! Um, this B and B is my sister’s place. She stepped out for a few minutes, but I can try to help you. I’m Dr. Leah Barnette,” she says.
“You’re a doctor?” I ask optimistically.
“Well, I’m a psychologist, not a medical doctor. But I can discreetly call the fire department. They can transport you without all the lights and sirens,” she tells me.
“Thank you. I would appreciate that so much.”
“Do you need me to come help you after I call them? I can help you get dressed if you need me to. Food poisoning can suck the life out of you, I know,” she says, and the way she says so, she must’ve experienced a bout of it firsthand.
“I think I can manage, if not, I’ll call you back,” I say as I try to get on my knees from the floor.
“Okay, I’ll call now, Miss…” She trails off unsure of my name.
“I’m Scarlett Shepard. Thank you,” I say, and end the call.
I push myself to all fours and hold the sink to steady myself. The image in the mirror shocks me. I’m so pale, I almost have a green tint. Is that even possible or all in my head?
I grab my brush and pull it through my unruly locks before twisting it up and securing it with a clip. I don’t bother with a toothbrush, instead I swish the mouthrinse provided by this quaint little B and B.
I splash a little water on my face and pad carefully to my suitcase. Luckily, I packed my favorite sweatshirt and some yoga pants. I slip on my sandals, and as I’m glancing down at my white polished toes, I sway a little and grab the bed before I fall.
I decide to sit on the bed while I wait and call Dr. Leah back. She answers on the first ring.
“Hey, it’s me. I’m dressed and ready, but I think I’m going to wait on the bed. I’m a little unsteady from all the puking.”
“I can come sit with you. The guys I called know what room you’re in,” she says.
I almost decline her offer but decide I wouldn’t mind the company while I wait.
A couple minutes later she’s in my room. She must be close to my age if I had to guess. Late twenties or early thirties. Her hair is a golden-chestnut brown. She’s fair-skinned and built like me—a woman with curves. She’s beautiful.
“Hi. I’m Leah. Sorry we’re meeting under such crummy circumstances.”
“Nice to meet you. I appreciate you helping me,” I tell her, feeling grateful someone is with me.
“It’s no problem. What do you think you ate that made you sick?”
I touch my stomach. “I’m an interior designer and had a meeting with some of my clients for lunch. I ate a salad.”
Dr. Leah wrinkles her nose as if she’s been burned by the same leafy poison before.
“Yeah. Salads are hit and miss sometimes. But I really wanted one yesterday. I paid for it unfortunately.”
She smiles at me knowingly. “We’ve all been there I’m afraid. The guys will be here in just a few minutes. Can I get you some water or ginger ale while you wait? Saltine crackers maybe?”
“I’ll just throw it back up, but I appreciate the offer,” I tell her.
“Dr. Leah?” A male voice comes from down the hall.
She pokes her head out in the hallway. “Down here, Dean.”
I glance up right as two men—two firemen—walk through the door of my room. I start to stand, but the room spins a little, forcing me to drop back down on the bed.
A dark-eyed, dark-haired fireman rushes over while the other one says something about a gurney before leaving the room.
Dr. Leah is on the other side furthest from this man keeping me steady and her brows are drawn in concern.
“Hey, now. Let’s not do that. I got ya,” the man says.
He looks up at Dr. Leah. “What did you say happened?”
“Bad salad.” It’s all I get out.
Dr. Leah explains what I told her, and he faces me again. “We’re going to get you on the gurney, so you don’t fall, then we’ll get you to Greendale Med. We’ll get an IV started once in the ambulance.”
The other fireman returns with the gurney, and I glance back at the one keeping me steady. “Why are two firemen driving an ambulance? Don’t you have EMTs or paramedics here?” I ask.
He laughs. “We are both paramedics. We’re also both lieutenants on different shifts at Greendale Valley Fire Department. We were in the middle of shift change, so we came together while our chief and sergeants hold down the fort. In the fire service, most of us are either EMTs or paramedics. Double duty for us,” he explains.
“We were both the only paramedics on site when Dr. Leah called though, so we both came. We have our own ambulance separate from the hospital,” he says.
“That’s a lot of heroic stuff I’d say,” I tell him as he helps me sit so he can check my blood pressure.
He puts the cuff on me and pumps it several times while the other man finishes locking the gurney in place.
He reads the measurement and smiles. “Is it okay?” I ask.
“It’s a little low, but that can be normal with the night and morning you’ve had. The doctor will take a closer look at you, but I’m sure with some rest and fluids, you’ll be feeling better in no time,” he says reassuringly.
“Okay, Scarlett. Slade and I are going to lift you up and lay you on the gurney. Just put your arms around our necks and we’ll do the rest,” he says.
Once they have me secure, I glance at the one he called Slade. “Nice to meet you, Slade. And your name is?” I ask, turning to the one who’s been talking to me.
“I’m Dean Warren,” he says kindly.
I glance at their hands to see if they have rings on, but they are covered by gloves. I hear Anna in my head telling me to ask if they’re married. I laugh in spite of myself.
“What is it?” the one named Dean asks.
“I was just thinking about my best friend and how even at a time like this, she’d ask if either of you are married,” I blurt out.
I clamp my hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry. I think I may be a little delirious,” I say.
They both laugh and Dr. Leah does too.
Dean chimes in as they start to move me toward the door, “I’m married to a girl I’ve loved all my life. But my man Slade Gregory over here is as single as they come,” he says while winking.
I laugh before closing my eyes. I’m so tired. “I’ll have to tell Anna that.”
Once I’m loaded in their ambulance, Dr. Leah pokes her head in the door. “I’ll hold your room and try to check in on you later. Feel better,” she says before shutting the doors and tapping them.
Such nice people in this little town. I see why someone would pick up and move here. My thoughts drift to Zander Bailey for a moment. I don’t think I can be in Greendale Valley without his name invading my mind a few times. It’s a shame I feel so bad, or I might go see him about those pictures and maybe a little more one-on-one time. Some things just aren’t meant to happen.