Chapter 15
JOHN FOSTER WAS better in the morning than he had been the night before. He was agreeable and took a liking to Trent. Ethan reluctantly agreed to the doctor visit after Naomi pleaded with him not to turn in the papers for at least one more day.
The blood test came back negative on everything the doctor suspected might be an environmental problem. The urine test, however, was positive. Naomi’s father had an infection for which the doctor prescribed an antibiotic.
“You’re going to take these, Dad, and you’re going to feel better soon, okay? The doctor said it might take a few days or even a week, but you’re going to get well.”
They’d driven back to Ethan’s and were sitting in the small living room.
John nodded, his eyes brighter than they’d been in days. “You always were the one who kept us all together, Naomi. Sensible, like your mother. I’ll take the pills. Promise.”
Naomi smiled, relief evident in her expression as she handed him a glass of water and the first dose of antibiotics. Ethan stood nearby, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed but his stance relaxed.
John finished the water and rose to leave. “There. I feel better already. Nice meeting you, Trent. I hope I’ll see more of you.” He winked at Naomi and went out the front door.
“I’m not tearing up those papers,” Ethan warned as soon as his father was gone. “But we’ll see how he does.”
Naomi scowled. “He’s going to be fine.”
“I hope this works, because I can’t keep putting off work to play nursemaid.”
Naomi looked over at Trent. “And I’ve got to get myself and this guy back to Montana.”
Ethan, however, had an opinion on that. “Well, you should wait until tomorrow morning. If you leave now you’ll be driving in the dark and,” he pointedly stared at Trent, “this time I did check the weather report and it doesn’t look good.”
“He’s probably right,” Naomi said. “You and I could go out to dinner tonight and drive back tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
“Guess I’m not invited,” Ethan muttered, turning toward the hall. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He left without another word, the sound of his office door clicking shut a moment later.
Naomi sighed. “Sorry about him. He’s just … Ethan.”
Trent chuckled. “No problem. Besides, I’m not here for him. I’m here for you.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the front door burst open.
“Naomi!” Her father’s voice was panicked. He stood in the doorway, his face pale.
“What’s wrong?” Naomi asked, standing quickly.
“It’s the camper,” he stammered. “It’s on fire.”
“What?” Trent and Naomi said in unison, bolting past him and out the door.
Sure enough, smoke billowed from the camper, flames licking at the edges of the small windows. Trent’s stomach sank as he sprinted toward it, pulling his phone from his pocket to call 911.
Naomi stood frozen for a moment before running after him. “What happened? How did this even start?”
“I don’t know,” her father said, trailing behind. “I just saw the smoke and—”
Before he could finish, a loud pop sounded from the camper, and they all ducked instinctively.
“Stay back!” Trent shouted, pulling Naomi away as a second, smaller explosion sent debris scattering across the yard.
The fire department arrived fifteen minutes later, but by then, the camper was reduced to a charred skeleton.
Naomi stood beside Trent, her face pale as she watched the firefighters douse the remaining flames. “At least my laptop wasn’t in there,” she said quietly, her voice trembling.
“I’m so sorry. This must have been my fault. I left the heater on.”