Chapter 19
Chelsea hummed to herself as she kneaded dough for homemade bread on the countertop while she watched a morning show. Or rather while the TV hosts and their guests rattled on, sounding like nothing more than white noise in the background.
It had been an amazing whirlwind since she had first met Grady.
They spent all the time they could together and went out with friends who were becoming mutual friends.
They’d gone out with Archer and the girl he was dating, as well as Kyra and her latest man.
Kyra was a lot like Chelsea’s sisters—always dating someone new.
One day all three of them were bound to settle down, just not likely at the same time.
Chelsea kneaded the dough even faster as she thought of all the fun times they’d had since their first date. And making love to Grady—she could do that every day, multiple times a day, and never get tired of it.
A smile touched her lips as she kneaded the dough. He enjoyed her fresh-baked bread and rolls, so she made sure she had some on hand whenever he was around, which was pretty much daily. He always told her how much he loved them.
Love. She paused for a moment as heat flushed her body. She had no doubt in her mind that she was in love with him—totally, irrefutably, head-over-heels in love. She had loved her husband, but this was different. It was more intense, soul-deep.
She felt the depth of her love in her chest, like a blossoming thing that only grew more powerful every day. It was the kind of love that could devastate her if something went bad. The kind of love that built her up so that she was sky-high—but could also tear her down and destroy her.
The thought made her go still. A shadow crossed her heart, as if something bad would happen. She swallowed. The feeling was so strong she nearly shook from the power of the deep impression it made on her soul.
“What in the world?” She stopped kneading and put her flour-covered fingertips to her temples. Pain pierced her head for a moment, and her vision swam. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.
The last time she had felt like this was the day her husband had died in that mine shaft.
Her heart thudded, and her throat grew dry. A prickling sensation traveled from her scalp to her toes. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it wouldn’t go away.
She raised her chin. “Nothing will or has happened.” She said the words defiantly, but they came out hollow.
The best thing to do was to call Grady, just to calm her ridiculous nerves. Before she could reach for it, the phone rang.
A knot crowded her throat, but then she saw that it was Kyra, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
She answered with a “Hey there,” just as the talking heads on the morning show disappeared to be replaced by footage of homes on fire. Grady’s and Kyra’s homes.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Kyra started at the same time Chelsea said, “Oh, my God.”
“You know?” Kyra sounded concerned.
Chelsea stared at the screen, watching smoke pouring from the building, and fire reaching for the sky. She could barely speak. “A fire. Your home. On TV.”
“Yes.” Kyra coughed, a deep hacking cough, then rushed on. “Grady’s alive. Spot is all right, too.”
It barely clicked for Chelsea. Kyra had just said, “Grady’s alive.” Why choose those words if something hadn’t gone wrong?
Panic crawled up Chelsea’s throat. “What happened to Grady?” She stared at the TV screen and saw a Dalmatian following a stretcher with a firefighter strapped to it. She knew the man was a firefighter because he had on one of those coats they wore.
Her heart felt like it dropped to her feet. By the unusual horseshoe spot on his rump, she could tell it was definitely Spot who followed the stretcher and paramedics.
“He’s all right,” Kyra’s voice sounded husky with tears. “He saved my life and the lives of others. He was injured, but he’s okay.”
“Where are you? Where is he?” Chelsea gripped the phone tighter, her heart thundering, tears threatening to fall. “I need to know.”
“We’re at the King Creek Hospital.” Kyra coughed again, then gave Chelsea her room number along with Grady’s.
Kyra started to say something else, but Chelsea interrupted her. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m on my way.”
Chelsea disconnected the call and bolted to her bedroom, where she kept her purse. Her heart thundered, and her skin had gone cold even though the house was warm.
Thoughts spun in her mind, taking her back to the past. In her head, she could hear the man on the other end of the line, who had called to tell her that George had died in a mineshaft collapse.
The shock had driven her to her knees. She sat on the floor, listening to the disembodied voice give her his condolences, assuring her that the wheels would be put into motion to ensure she received his insurance check and his last paycheck.
Chelsea hadn’t given a damn about either. She just wanted to have her husband, but nothing could bring him back to her.
Later, after a class action lawsuit was filed against the mining company, she had signed some papers with the attorneys and ended up with a considerable settlement.
She forced the thoughts from her mind—she didn’t want to think about George’s death. It was a painful memory, and it belonged in the past.
Fast forward to the future, and she felt as if she was going through it all over again.
Thoughts of Grady made her whole body numb and weak. She paused for a moment to catch her breath before hurrying out into the garage for her car.
Chelsea trembled with fear for Grady as she walked through the hospital, headed to Grady’s room. Kyra hadn’t said anything about him being in intensive care. She hadn’t learned that until she reached the hospital.
First thing after she arrived, the nurses had her go to the waiting room, where several firefighters, including Archer and Beckett, had come to support Grady.
Archer explained to Chelsea how Grady had saved not only Spot’s and Kyra’s lives, but the life of his neighbor, Carla.
Spot received most of the credit for saving Carla, and Spot was the one to lead Grady to Kyra as well.
Archer and the other firefighters tried to help boost her spirits, but she couldn’t get herself to smile. She talked with each of the five men briefly before she was told she could go to Grady.
She left the waiting area and headed toward Grady’s room. She stopped abruptly in the hallway, unable to move, her limbs feeling as heavy and solid as stone. What if Grady was close to death? Why else would he be in the ICU?
Dear God. She didn’t think she could go through losing another man she loved. It was her worst nightmares and fears come to life.
She took a deep breath, trying to control her breathing and the sickness in her belly. Her skin felt clammy, as if she was coming down with the flu.
No matter what happened in the future, she had to go to him now. Grady needed her. She would worry about everything else later.
Chelsea needed to see Kyra, too, but would go to Grady first. Then she’d find Spot and give him a big hug and a giant soup bone.
She walked hesitantly down the ICU hallway, afraid to get closer to Grady’s room, as if he might die if she went in there.
When she reached his room, for a long moment she stood outside, barely daring to breathe. Windows lined the room he was in, but the curtains were drawn.
A woman in scrubs came up to Chelsea. She glanced at the nurse’s nametag that had Irene Johnson across it. Chelsea looked from the tag to Irene, who had hard lines on her face and thin lips. She’d never run into the woman around town.
Nurse Irene’s voice was sharp and matter-of-fact. “Mr. Donovan may only have family visitors at this time.”
Responses shot through Chelsea’s mind, and she blurted out the first thing that came to her. “I’m Grady’s fiancée.”
The nurse eyed Chelsea with suspicion, then nodded. “Ten minutes. He needs rest, and I understand his family is coming in from Seattle. But since you’re his fiancée, you probably know that.”
Chelsea gave a weak smile. “I’ll keep my time in his room short.”
“Good.” Irene went up to the door and peeked in. “Mr. Donovan, your fiancée is here to see you.”
Chelsea’s face burned, but she straightened her posture. How did he feel about her pretending to be his fiancée?
Irene turned back to Chelsea. “Ten minutes, got that?”
“Of course.” Chelsea moved past Irene, sucked in another deep breath, and walked inside the room.
Her heart felt like it had crumbled into tiny pieces when she saw Grady. His skin was pale with red scrapes and bandages everywhere. Both his legs were in casts and his arm was in a sling. His eyes were glazed, and he looked exhausted.
She fought to keep the horror out of her expression.
“You are the loveliest thing that could possibly have walked into this room.” Grady’s voice sounded weak and rough, but his lips tipped into a tired smile. “My dear fiancée.”
Her face burned again. “I—I just told her that because…”
“Because she wouldn’t have let you come in otherwise,” Grady finished for her. He gave a hacking cough before sinking into his pillow and adding, “I still like the sound of it.”
“What happened?” The words barely came out of her dry throat, and tears were starting to build up behind her eyes. “Your legs. Your arms—you’re bandaged everywhere.”
He raised the hand that wasn’t in the sling. “Come here, baby.”
She moved closer, sat in the chair beside his bed, and scooted it so that her knees touched the mattress. She took his hand in hers, and he squeezed it tight. His was warm and dry. “I was so scared for you,” she whispered.
“You were what kept me going.” He smiled gently. “All I could think about was coming home to you.”
Her belly twisted as tears rolled down her cheeks. All she could think about was running away.