Chapter Seventeen
Everything hurt. Fallon’s eyelids felt like they had weights holding them closed. The ground beneath her tent wasn’t this soft. She worked to understand what was going on, but her brain couldn’t seem to get out of first gear. Trying to speak, she made a grunt. Someone stroked her cheek.
“Fallon? Sweetie? It’s Nora.” Something touched her palm. “If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”
Breathing in, Fallon asked her muscles to obey. Her fingers flexed slightly.
“Oh, thank God. How do you feel? Do you need anything?” Fallon managed to part her dry lips and give a slight cough. “Water? Are you thirsty?” She grunted again, tilting her head toward Nora’s voice. “Okay. They said I could give you ice chips. Here.”
Something touched her mouth, and a cold particle dissolved on her tongue. The next piece dropped onto her lip. Finally, a drop of water slid down her throat.
“One more and then let’s see how you feel,” Nora said.
If she’d had any moisture to spare, Fallon might have cried from frustration. She flexed her fingers again, but Nora’s hand was gone. Because she’s feeding you ice chips, her brain helpfully supplied. This time, she relaxed her jaw, and the frozen flakes melted in her throat. It felt wonderful.
She became aware of sounds other than Nora’s voice. A rhythmic beeping was accompanied by a new chirp, and something tightened around her arm. She tried to form a question, but only a “Hmm?” came out.
“You’re going to be fine.” Nora’s voice sounded strained, and she sniffed. “The doctor said so. You just need a little time to recover.” Soft pressure on her forehead followed. Nora’s lips. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Fallon tried to hold on to her hand, but it was too hard.
A moment later, the tightness relaxed, and something else tweeted with a different, almost ticking resonance. A shadow crept in behind her vision, and she retreated into it.
* * *
“A tree fell on me?” Fallon asked, incredulous.
Dr. Norgood, a handsome man with silver hair, smiled. “Apparently, yes. Well, the branchy part of a tree, anyway. According to your colleagues, you pushed another woman out of the way, but you weren’t able to escape.”
Maris. It was coming back to her now. The shock and fear she’d felt as the huge mass of limbs and trunk had come down on them. Then darkness. “But she’s all right? Everyone else too?”
“Other than being worried about you and pestering my staff to the point of distraction, they’re fine. A ranger came by yesterday and threatened them with dismissal if they didn’t return to work, or I’m sure they’d be here now.”
“And the fire?”
“Ninety-something percent contained. The young women who were visiting you said your work on the break helped save the town. I assume you understand the nuances of that.”
Fallon nodded. Trying to shift positions, she grimaced, wondering about the triangular bandage she’d found wrapped on her left arm and tied around her neck.
She was generally a side sleeper, but her options had become limited because almost any movement of that area was extremely painful. “My shoulder—”
“Dislocated. We were able to reduce it with no additional damage.”
“Reduce it?”
“Pop it back into place, in layman’s terms. You’ll be wearing that sling for maybe four to six weeks. Then you should be good as new.” He pointed down her body. “That hip flexor strain will probably recover even faster. But you’ll have to take it easy, use ice, and take ibuprofen for a week or so.”
There were only four weeks left in this year’s Firecamp season. Fallon shook her head. “But I can walk and talk, right?”
“Talk, yes, walk, not too much. Not at first, anyway. Short distances a few times a day. Don’t push it, or you’ll make things worse, and it will take longer to recover.
If you try to run or jump, you could damage it to the point that you’ll need surgery.
The same with your shoulder. But overall, you should consider yourself extremely lucky. ”
Fallon sighed. She didn’t feel lucky.
“Any other questions?” the doctor asked.
Where’s Nora? Fallon’s most recent conscious memory was of Nora giving her ice chips.
Was that yesterday? Two days ago? She’d obviously been given pain medication after the accident because until this morning, her sense of time had been rather unreliable.
But she was certain it had been at least a day since she’d seen her.
Would Nora visit again? “When will I be released from the hospital?”
“Tomorrow. You had a low-grade fever yesterday, and we need to make sure there’s no infection.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He smiled. “They’re calling you a hero, you know.”
Fallon scoffed, and he left. A real hero would have walked away unscathed, right?
She stared at the ceiling. What would she do with herself for six weeks?
Would Ranger Dick let her stay at base camp if she couldn’t work for the last part of it?
Or would this be his excuse to get rid of her?
She understood him using his authority to get everyone else back to work, but the question of Nora returned.
She didn’t work for him. Was she already in Tucson, filing her story? Weren’t they supposed to talk?
Would she have felt differently about Nora’s reappearance if it hadn’t been accompanied by the sound of a camera clicking?
True, she was less sensitive about the photos that had been the basis of their breakup, thanks to years of counseling, but what if Nora had come back to Firecamp and simply knocked on her door, presenting herself with no agenda other than to talk?
In therapy, Fallon had acknowledged that her feelings about Nora were muddled, but she could admit to herself that her heart had jumped at the sight of her, even though Nora was holding her Canon.
If there hadn’t been a major wildfire raging, would Fallon have willingly dropped her guard and let Nora saunter through all the years of self-protection with a wink and a smile?
Maybe now that she was more awake, she should call and ask to see her.
Fallon looked around, seeing none of her possessions, only two vases of flowers.
She wore a hospital gown, so there were no pockets for her cell, and she was unable to recall Nora’s number.
But Nora knew her room number, and a phone sat on the nightstand.
Staring at it wouldn’t make it ring, though.
Sighing, Fallon tried to figure out what to do now.
She didn’t have a book to read. Turning on the television would be a waste of time.
Carefully, she worked her way to the edge of the bed.
The doctor said she could walk a short distance.
Maybe after going down the hall and back, she’d feel better. Or she’d sleep.
She lowered her feet carefully to the ground, her shoulder joint aching with every movement.
Previously, she’d made the trek to the bathroom with a nurse who had assisted her with a gait belt; now she was untethered, which felt both good and intimidating.
Small steps got her to the door, and she sidled carefully into the hall with a minimum of twinges in her hip.
She’d almost made it to the nurses’ station when a familiar voice called her name.
She turned to see Tyler coming toward her, his smile a mile wide.
“Are you making an escape, or are you released?”
Gratified to see him, her insides warmed. “Neither,” she said, hiding her relief behind a cough that made her eyes water. “I’m taking a restorative stroll.”
He took her arm, guiding her back to her room. “Did they say when you might get sprung?”
“Tomorrow. What are you still doing here? I thought you’d be at your cushy lab job by now.”
“I have a few more vacation days. And I’ve been tasked with making sure you’re properly cared for until your release.”
“Tasked by whom?” she asked, secretly hoping she knew the answer.
“The entire Firecamp crew. Plus one.” He held the door for her, making a grand gesture for her to enter.
She grinned as she made her way to the bed. “It’s really good to see you, Tyler. Tell me everything that’s been going on.”
He did, including the part where a radio station newswoman had wanted to interview her but had been told she was unavailable. “She settled for Maris, who was still pretty emotional. According to her, you not only saved her, you protected the town and kept the rest of the forest from burning down.”
“Oh hell,” Fallon grumbled. “Maybe it was on a station that Ranger Dick doesn’t listen to.”
“No such luck,” Tyler said. “The story has been picked up by your local paper, and it may even go national. Nora told the reporter she’d send her some photos.”
“Isn’t Nora working on her own story?”
His amused expression became somber. “I hadn’t gotten to that part yet. Nora’s at home.”
It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but Fallon wasn’t surprised. What she didn’t expect was the pang of loss. “Yeah. Working on her story like I said. Right?”
“No, she’s not in Tucson. Nora’s at our family home. My father had what might be a stroke.” Tyler looked at his watch. “She’s supposed to call me in about an hour and let me know what’s going on.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” A little flutter of hope began to beat inside. “Are you going to join her?”
“If you get released tomorrow, I might.” He looked at her slyly. “But I don’t have transportation.”
She grinned. “I have transportation, but I can’t drive.”
He pressed his hands together. “Tell me you still have the beautiful red car that looks like a spaceship.”
There was that familiar twinge of sadness whenever she thought about Big Red. “Sorry, no. But I do have a sweet-riding pickup truck I bought off Ranger Reva.”
“I suppose that will have to do.”
“How will we get back to base camp?” she asked. “I don’t even know where my stuff is.”