Down in Flames (Wildfire Hearts Book 5) Page 2

  He got the distinct sense that she hadn't been going anywhere. “What did they mean by Okay?”

  “He said back to yourself,” she assured him.

  “I can—” his job was all he had left. He couldn’t imagine if he couldn’t …

  “Yes. It will take a little while, but you'll be able to go back to work.”

  Of course, Tierney already knew all of this. Of course, she was here at five a.m. He breathed a sigh of relief even as he wondered if she was lying to him. When he laid back and seemed to let go of the tension, he tried again to open his eyes.

  She talked to him again. “You had a minor surgery in the middle of the night, hence the pain in your side. But they got you mostly put back together.”

  He didn’t like “mostly” but she was still going.

  “I left a message with your mom and dad, but they haven’t responded. I said I’d stay with you. We didn't expect you to wake up for a while.”

  Slowly, he was starting to focus even though his eyes wanted to close, and his brain wanted to wander away. Tierney would be hard to hold onto mentally if she didn’t keep talking.

  “Did you get breakfast?” he asked, though he realized as he said it that it was stupid.

  “I will,” she assured him.

  Why did she sound strange? His thoughts began floating.

  She must have seen something on his face.

  “You're on some serious painkillers.”

  Then why was he feeling pain?

  “Your thoughts are probably going to be a little muddled. You may ask people the same things twice, but it's okay.”

  “Why are you here?” Oh shit. Was that rude? He hadn’t meant to be. He liked Tierney. She was alternately quiet and brash and didn’t seem to care for him much, even after all these years. They’d been family for a while.

  “I was driving home from the bar, and I saw the accident.”

  “You saw it?” He tried to sit up again. But her hands were immediately on his shoulders, soft and gentle, calming him but not taking any shit. Also, she wasn’t Siorse, but she was close …

  Why did he think she was close?

  “I didn't see it happen. I saw afterward. The police were there. B-shift was pulling you out of the car. So I followed the ambulance here.”

  That was nice of her. She wasn't his family, but she wasn't not his family either. As his late wife’s sister, he wasn't sure if she was still his sister-in-law or not. That thought was floating away as the doctor came in.

  Ronan blinked and the woman who was fuzzy at first sharpened as he stared. Oh, good, his eyes were open.

  Oh, shit, the drugs were making him dumb.

  The doc had dark hair pulled back tight in a bun. She held a hand out to him and waited while he figured out how to operate his own. “I'm Dr. Alexandra Cotton. I'm just here to check on you.”

  Tierney piped up from the other side of him, “His blood pressure has remained relatively stable—130 over 82. His heart rate has been a solid 78. He's a firefighter so it's normally low. That's probably a little high for him.” Then she added, “When he came to, he waved his arms around. He may have loosened the IV. You may want to have someone check that.”

  What was even happening?

  At least now he could look at the doctor. He saw a nod of admiration. She checked all the machines and told Tierney, “Very good.” Then she turned to Ronan. “Now we need to talk about your next surgery.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Mom! It’s gross!”

  Tierney jumped at Sean’s disgruntled squeal. Her phone had just dinged, she was trying to get her constantly moving child out of the house, and now he was complaining about something gross. She could not deal with anything gross right now.

  It was Saturday morning, and she'd worked until the bar closed last night. She had planned this poorly, but it was too late to change now. And way too early to be organized.

  At 6:30am on a Saturday in Nebraska the temperature was well below freezing. Maybe she should be grateful her child was at least passing the front door. That was progress toward the car, right?

  “What is it, Seanie Bean?” Tierney called out still stuffing his things down into a bag. He had ball practice after they went to Ronan’s and she was running on coffee and fumes.

  “You have to come see this, Mom! … Mom! Mom!”

  “One minute,” she called back. This new thing where he kept saying mom over and over and over again until she showed up was going to drive her absolutely batshit. The bag was finally packed. She hoped she'd done it well because she’d done it far too quickly. With her stomach growling, Tierney grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

  With a quick look at her phone, she realized she was screwed.

  — Ready for the film fest today?

  Oh crap, no. She was not ready for the film fest today. That was today?

  She wasn't even going to make it at all. She’d double booked the whole day like an idiot.

  With a hefty serving of anger at herself, and a side dollop of guilt, Tierney wondered how she was going to tell Talia that she’d fucked up. Her friend should give her ticket away, Tierney thought as she stepped out the front door and almost ran into her son.

  What was he doing?

  “No, mom!” He yelled from where he was bent over examining something. He stood up abruptly, holding his hands out to her.

  Tierney brought herself to a sharp stop. She'd almost stepped on the dead rat. “Gross!”

  “That's what I said, Mom!”

  Tierney felt her stomach turn as she looked at the bloody mess on the porch.

  “I think Mr. Kittens left it for us,” Sean told her in solemn words, his eyes never leaving the disgusting sight.

  “Probably,” Tierney said, though she wouldn't have guessed a cat could make such a precise cut. The rat was gutted stem to stern, the entrails pulled out across the porch.

  “Why would Mr. Kittens leave us a rat?” Sean was still babbling even as Tierney took his hand and used it to pull him away.

  There was no good answer except to get their asses to Ronan’s, where they were already late getting to. She hoped he wasn’t up and around because she wasn’t there. As she pushed Sean toward the backseat and reminded him to buckle in, her bag fell from her shoulder.

  “Crap!”

  “That's a bad word, Mom.”

  “It is. I'm sorry.” But she didn't look at her child. She looked down and was supremely grateful that the bag stayed zipped, and she wasn’t having to dust the driveway dirt off everything and pack it all over again.

  She knew how to do this, Tierney reminded herself. She'd been doing fine until the phone dinged and Sean found the dead rat on the porch … No, actually, she hadn’t. She was already late, and she’d been thinking about being at Ronan’s and seeing him …

  No. She couldn’t think about any of that.

  Stopping and taking a deep breath—the only way she'd ever really found to handle anything as a single teenage mom—she took a moment. She checked that Sean clicked his seatbelt correctly, picked up the bag and brushed it off. Then stuffed the bag into the footwell that he clearly didn't need yet. Then she closed the door before aiming toward the mess.

  Ducking back, she shoved the key in the ignition and turned the car on so it would warm up for Sean … and her. Then she told him to stay put as she surveyed the crap on her front doorstep.

  The little rental house was adorable, but if she'd had her way there would have been an attached garage. It was definitely a must in a place with cold weather like this. First things first, she pulled the thermal blanket from over the hood. She should stash it in the shed out back, but she’d never had the time for that. So she shoved it into a little outdoor box she’d bought for just this.

  “Stay put, Sean, the car will get warm.”

  Then she headed around to the back, stomping her feet in the cold. She was dressed to move from the house to the car, not for doing the manual labor of front porch cl
eanup. Getting her only shovel, Tierney used it to scrape the dead rat off the front step. Her lips curled and her head pulled back. The guts hung downward off the flat of the shovel, still attached.

  Gross. Sean was right. This was disgusting.

  Then she stood there, nearly gagging and realized she had to find a place to put it. She was beyond out of time. Her stomach grumbled again as she balanced the rat, and she opened her mouth to gag. “Ew!”

  She didn’t have a trash bag, but she wasn’t about to go back inside and get one. With her time well past short, she gave up and tossed the dead body into the bushes. Hopefully that would be far enough away.

  As she looked back, she saw the front porch was smeared with rat blood and for a moment she thought she'd vomit into the nice little hedge her landlord kept. But with another deep breath—with closed eyes—she instead dug into the black mulch and tossed it across the porch, rubbing it in with the shovel before scraping it back off. At least it didn't look like a blood trail anymore. It would have to do.

  Tierney left the shovel beside the house. She didn’t want to leave Sean in the car any longer or be any later getting to Ronan’s. Buckling herself in, she offered her son a smile in the rearview mirror and hoped he didn’t read her disgust at the rat, her irritation at herself for running late, or the simmering feelings she had for Sean’s uncle.

  She only barely remembered not to start the engine again. Then she shoved into reverse and backed out of the driveway as she checked her phone again. Ronan was too nice to ask if she was still coming. She worked her way through a massive apology to Talia, and by the time she was done, the short drive was over and she was sitting in front of Ronan’s house.

  “Why did Mr. Kittens leave us a dead rat?” Sean asked again.

  This time she had to answer. “Cats leave dead animals as a thank you gift or sometimes because they think people are stupid and can't hunt for them themselves.”

  At least that made Sean giggle. “Mr. Kittens is getting fat.”

  A mild subject change, she thought. He was getting better at staying on topic. “I don't think Mr. Kittens is fat. I think Mr. Kittens is a Miss Kittens. And I think Miss Kittens is about to have her own kittens.”

  Not something she was looking forward to. It was enough being responsible for herself and her child.

  Sean giggled, “I don't think so.”

  Good to know he’d become an authority on veterinary medicine at the tender age of nine.

  Tierney stared up at the beautiful craftsman house that made her heart ache. Her house was a rental. The roof sagged a little on one side. The porch was concrete, but there was a growing crack where it was pulling away from the foundation.

  She was grateful for the size of the place and that she didn’t have to cover repairs. But she was also sad that it wasn't hers to fix. It wasn't loved. It was painted cream and an odd shade of blue that she was pretty certain the owner had gotten on discount.

  Here though, this house was a point of pride. Ronan had bought it and begun fixing it up before Siorse got pregnant. His little family had lived here for just over five years before Siorse and Paddy died. Tierney took one more look at the house before turning the car off.

  Siorse had never deserved this house or this man.

  But, as usual, Tierney had to stuff that down. There were things she couldn’t say. She’d kept Siorse’s secrets for herself. Now she kept them for her mom and dad … and for Ronan.

  With her mind on her task, she reversed the process of getting in. Though Sean hopped out and ran to the front door, she had to grab her purse, his bag, and everything she was bringing for Ronan.

  She unconsciously checked the front porch for dead animals and thankfully found it clear. Of course, no cat would dare grace such a pristine home with rat entrails. She stepped up, wishing it were her home, but not saying anything.

  “Here, Sean, hold this for a minute.”

  He reached up and carefully balanced the dish. He was a good kid. The best. She fit her key into the lock and let herself in.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ronan tried to toss back the covers, but even that simple movement ignited a slash of fire in his side. It had been a week since he’d been let out of the hospital, and he really thought he should be doing better by now.

  He guessed he wouldn't be swinging his legs jauntily over the side of the bed and heading out to the kitchen on his own either.

  He'd been awake for a while, but Tierney was late, and he wasn't supposed to get out of bed without her here. He was on medical leave from work, and he hated it. He’d always assumed that any medical leave would at least be work related, and fully covered, but noooo.

  So, he was running out his paid time off, and paying to keep the house a little warmer than usual and being taken care of by everyone else in his life.

  His mother had flipped out and tried to end their cruise early. But since it was only by a day, and Ronan was awake enough to assure her he’d be fine and that Tierney had everything well under control, they’d finished the trip. Then she’d touched down like a reverse tornado, sweeping through chaos and organizing everything in her wake. She had herself and Tierney and a home nurse on rotation almost constantly. It had taken everything he had to be allowed to sleep by himself overnight. But she’d insisted on early morning visits and the warmer house and … and … and …

  The heating bill wasn't going to feel good. Nor was the hospital bill. He was bored out of his skull and eating casseroles brought by the fine single ladies of Redemption—none of whom he was interested in, and he wished his mother would quit sending them over. To add insult to injury, his accident had been almost identical to the one that had killed his wife and young son. So why had he survived when they hadn’t? Why had it happened so close to the anniversary of their accident, too?

  Fate was a cruel bitch.

  Slowly, he settled his feet down into the fuzzy rug by the side of the bed. It had been Siorse's and he’d considered getting rid of it and the other fuzzy rugs she’d put throughout the house. But a year after she died, when the weather had turned cold again, he'd cared for the first time that his feet were cold in the mornings. So he’d stolen it from her side of the bed.

  It was better to use it than let it rot. Some days he thought everything in the house was rotting. Some days he didn’t want to leave because it was the place it most felt like they were both still here. The world had moved on, but he hadn’t.

  This morning, Ronan decided to be grateful for the soft rug. He stepped carefully, slowly along the edge of the bed, holding on in case he tripped or fell. He was not going back to the hospital. His hand traced along the nightstand, and then up to the wall for balance. He wasn't quite good enough to walk on his own yet. Tierney liked to remind him that he should be grateful he walked on his own at all.

  Mostly he was mad he'd been left in the middle.

  He should have been killed or he should have survived cleanly. He was far too impatient to suffer an injury like this. To top it off, the doctors told him that if he pushed too quickly, he could make the injury permanent. It was probably the only thing that held him back.

  As he slowly and painfully picked his way down the hall, he heard a noise from the front door. If it was an intruder, he was toast. But Sean was running down the hallway to him, greeting him with a smile and enthusiasm.

  Ronan was grateful that his nephew was older than Paddy, though he'd always felt sorry for Tierney. Tierney and Siorse had arrived in town Ronan’s senior year. He’d fallen for Siorse immediately and he’d realized quickly that her younger sister had arrived in town already pregnant.

  At the time, Tierney had just been a pregnant teenager. But now, he was glad of how it played out. If Sean had been younger than Paddy, or even the same age, Ronan would have lost his shit. If he’d had to watch Sean pass Paddy, that would have been too much.

  As it was, he managed to keep his annoyance at having a nine-year-old in the house under check. Normally he like
d kids. Normally he liked Sean. He didn't know why everything was irritating him now. Or maybe it was just all too obvious why he was pissed at the world, but he couldn’t seem to change it.

  “Uncle Ronan! We found a dead rat on the porch this morning!”

  Lovely. Ronan reached the end of the short hall and slowly turned the corner, his hand on the wall, leaning heavily against it. He looked into the kitchen, where Tierney was already starting to cook his breakfast and hers. “You're late.”

  It came out far too harsh. He'd meant it as just a comment, not a criticism.

  She shrugged as if it was of no importance.

  But it was important. In his line of work, tardiness killed people. At least in hers, it just left his stomach grumbling longer.

  “There was a dead rat to remove from my porch,” she said by way of excuse.

  When he didn't respond, she added. “It was a complete surprise. I apologize for not having saved enough time to clean up entrails in the morning. Would you like your free breakfast?”

  It wasn't completely free. Some of what she’d put into the egg scramble was from his fridge, but she’d brought the bread, and the melon. And he was in no shape to cook it himself. So, he slowly moved from the wall taking a few free steps until his hand hit the back of the sturdy dark wood dining chair. Then he shuffled his way around until he sat gingerly in it. By the time his ass was in the seat, Tierney had put a fully cooked plate of food in front of him.

  She next brought a glass of juice and a small dish full of pills.

  Jesus, he hated this. But the only way out was through. He dutifully swallowed the pills and tried to move his arm slowly to not aggravate his wounds any further as he ate the scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast. Luckily, Tierney was a great cook.

  Tierney brought the rest over and sat at the table, calling her son in for breakfast. Sean sat down next to him, chattering about school and ballgames, and not needing Ronan to hold up his side of the conversation at all. Within minutes, he was getting up and asking if he could go play.