Rescued (A McKenzie Ridge Novel Book 1) (12 page)

News that Sam was awake traveled fast in their small town. Phones were ringing off the hook from those wanting to welcome a town favorite back to health. They managed to keep things mellow holding off visitors, with the exception of Morgan Jameson and Blake Cooper. Cooper and Jameson were close friends, like family, but they were also McKenzie Ridge’s finest cops. Anxious to see for themselves that their dear friend was well, business before pleasure was todays calling.

Without a single witness, Sam’s case had remained open, unable to close it as an accident or otherwise. Sam didn’t remember anything from that night, nor the hours leading up to it. Her memory ended at her date with Dawson, irony at its best, because unforgettable is most certainly how she would describe that night, not that she would be sharing those details in an official statement of any kind.

Small talk was quickly exchanged as they got straight to business explaining the circumstances of the accident that didn’t add up, leaving its cause a complete mystery. They offered pictures from the scene, the surrounding area, hoping to provoke even the slightest memory. They went through her typical routine and route, trying to get a better picture of what could have or might have transpired, but not a single hint was granted, not a single clue, not a single memory.

“I don’t know what to say. It’s like it didn’t happen. These pictures, they just don’t seem real to me, how can that happen, and…nothing?”

“You had a traumatic head injury, Sam, we didn’t expect to get a play by play, just hoped to provoke a memory or something that would give us a little direction,” Morgan mentioned, trying to put her frustration at ease.

“I wish I could help. I thought I wanted to remember, but after seeing the pictures I don’t know that I ever want to remember. I know that doesn’t help you with your case, but…“ Sam answered honestly, seeing the wreckage, the blood, it was overwhelming and she couldn’t believe she was sitting there, alive.

“Understood. Wish we didn’t even have to have this convo, but something doesn’t add up and we just can’t close it as an accident just yet,” Blake added.

That gnawing feeling settled deep in Dawson’s gut again, when Blake said
something doesn’t add up.
The sensation was becoming a concern as his instincts grew stronger. Something
was
wrong, but what? He was becoming more and more anxious, unsettled really. Though there was no reason to suspect a problem, something was nagging at him to stay close and pay attention. He wasn’t sure, but he suspected that Blake and Morgan were in sync with his wariness—what didn’t add up?

“Blake’s right, Sam, we couldn’t piece the scene together and come up the same outcome. There wasn’t an injured or deceased animal, no debris left on the vehicle from an animal encounter, we didn’t find any trace of another vehicle, and the only markings on the pavement were about a mile before the impact. They match your car, but don’t make sense since impact was a mile later,” Morgan offered, trying to give her friend understanding without frightening her, but the reality was, this was suspicious.

“Even if an animal obstructed the path and managed to make it unscathed, the angle of impact and lack of tire marks in the road, closer to the scene, not to mention force of impact, doesn’t make sense,” Blake echoed a little less reassuring than his partner, he was all facts and down to business.

“You suspect foul play?” Dawson asked, sitting a little taller, puffing out his chest, feeling protective. Based on the conversation he was right, there was more going on and his instincts weren’t leading him astray.

“No, Daws,” Morgan interjected, suspecting where Dawson was going with his question. “When we can’t piece a clean scene back together, we ask more questions, that’s all.”

Sam’s frustration was evident, to see the pictures of such a dramatic scene, but not remember a bit of it was haunting, to say the least. Their visit wound down, Dawson walked them to the elevator while Sam’s nurse went through her vitals and got her ready to practice walking on crutches, with two bum arms. They exchanged pleasantries before parting, leaving a lot unsaid. Could it be his past haunting him, the fear of losing someone he cared about again, nothing more? The hair on the back of Dawson’s neck remained at attention. He didn’t feel any better now, than he had before. Something wasn’t right.

***

The weekend arrived and was nearly gone when Sam finally won the approval of her doctor to be released from the hospital. Being a nurse helped her case to be sprung from the place, but it took Evie and Dawson’s commitments as medical professionals, to help oversee her care at home to get the official word.

Sam was anxious to get home. Only awake just shy of a week, the weeks previous were clearly wearing on her, even if she wasn’t awake for them. She needed out of there. Recovering in a hospital is about as effective as a holding AA meetings in a bar. When the doctor orders rest, yet your woken up every few hours for this and that, it’s pretty counterproductive; she had an entirely new appreciation for grumpy patients, being
that
nurse made her feel kind of like an anti-healing asshole. She would remember that when she was able to return to work.

“Alright, sister, I think this is everything. You excited to get out of here?” Evie asked full of excitement for her sister-friend.

“You have no idea. I just wish I didn’t need so much friggen help. I feel like a damn invalid! I can’t even pee by myself!”

“It’s temporary! Plus, it can’t be that bad, having Dawson as your
care taker
, bet he is ready to take
care
of just about anything, if you know what I mean.”

Evie delivered her line with a devious giggle, impressed with her own joke, after giving a dirty grin, wink, and bobbing eyebrows. Not expecting such jestful wit and wonky facial expressions, she could always count on Evie for her whimsy. Sam let out a very unbecoming snort with her laugh, lifting her mood and sending her mind in the direction Everly suggested, the gutter.

“Funny! It is weird, isn’t it? He is so good to us, me
and
El. It’s still hard to let him help, but hard not to, you know?”

“Honey, he’s one of the good ones. I say you just kick back and let him wait on you, pretty sure you don’t have much of a choice anyway. He may not leave for the next several decades.”

“You think? You think he’s thinking that far ahead and not just sympathetic? He pulled me out of the car and kept me alive until we got here, maybe he feels obligated.”

“Girl, if that’s what you think, Doc needs to scan that head of yours again! He’s all in, totally head over heels stupid, for you…and Ellie!”

Sam heard every word Everly said, and they went straight to her heart. There was just something about Dawson. He really was one of the good guys, he felt…right. Seeing him with her daughter made her heart do cartwheels, too. Ellie didn’t know her dad and hadn’t really had a male role model in her life until now. Those two really did adore each other, which warmed her heart and complicated things all at the same time.

“They are pretty great together, aren’t they? It’s like they have been together always, two peas in a pod. I hope I can protect her heart if…“

“Sam,” Everly interrupted, “the only heart breaking from where I’m standing, can be done by you. Stop worrying, don’t make him carry the burden of your past. Have fun, see where things go.”

Could she do that? Was it that simple just let it all go, see where everything lands? Sam wanted to trust what Everly was saying, badly, but there was still that small amount of something that said,
not yet
. Dawson was different, there was no denying that, and to be as rooted in their lives as he had become, there had to be some feelings and emotions involved.

Sam wanted Everly to be right, wanted Dawson to be all in because she certainly could be, as frightening as that thought was, but there was no guarantee that he was or would be even five years from now, and that was the last hurdle her heart would have to overcome. Jesus, Sam, not everyone is like your dad, and you are certainly not your mother.

***

Dawson and Ellie arrived hand in hand, to spring Sam from the hospital, while Lou prepared Sam’s house for her arrival. She was leaving in much better shape than she arrived, but she was leaving on crutches, with a surplus of paraphernalia that would be awkward to maneuver without adjustments around the house. Sam was anxious to get home, get into her own comfy bed, or rest her arse on her fluffy couch, and leave this place behind—the hospital was anything but comfortable.

So used to taking care of herself, it was going to be difficult to give up her independence, while she finished healing. Dawson had spent the last several nights with her in the hospital. They ate comfort foods, her favorite desserts, even watched movies together snuggled up on her small hospital bed. She liked Dawson, adored him really, and appreciated all that he had done for her and her family, but she was having trouble giving into the idea that she needed help…from a man, and hated relying on him so much. She felt like a first class bitch.

Dawson was aware of Sam’s edge, she was frustrated and he could see it. He was painfully aware of her boundaries where men were concerned, but he was determined to prove his interest and show her that he could be trusted and that she could count on him. Sam consumed him, he wouldn’t accept a back seat role in her life, he wanted front and center. He would win the rest of her heart and make sure she never regretted sharing it.

Rest was going to go a long way towards Sam’s recovery; a night in her own bed was likely doing wonders, so Granny Lou left her to sleep, deciding to take Ellie to Art on the Prairie, by herself. She had stayed over to help her, Dawson was reluctant to leave them the night before, but he had his last shift to finish before his leave kicked in, and a few loose ends to tie up. Granny was a tough old bird, he suspected she slept with .38 special close by, nothing would get by her, he was sure of that. There was a short lapse in time, between Lou taking Ellie to her art camp and Dawson arriving from his final night shift, but it was daylight and the house was locked up tight, so she went ahead and left Sam, giving Dawson a quick heads up.

Sam stirred at the commotion of Gran and Ellie getting out the door, or perhaps it was just her imagination as she lingered between sleep and being awake. She grinned at the images filling her mind, remnants of her dream, Dawson still dancing in her head, desperate to fall back to sleep and finish where she left off. Good Lord this man consumed her, even in her sleep. The commotion continued and her dream faded and she slowly woke, resisting the urge completely.

A loud crash caught her attention like a cold bucket of water. Wide-awake, she listened, trying to decipher what exactly was going on outside her bedroom door. Reading her bedside clock, it surely wasn’t Gran and Ellie, they should have been long on their way, but Dawson should be there any time. Relaxing with that thought, smiling, knowing he was near, calmed her quickly, he was probably just finding his way around.

Another loud, abrupt crash from what sounded like the back of her house, put her on high alert, certain this wasn’t her dreamy imagination now. Sitting up in bed, listening intently, she searched for her phone. Shit, she left it charging on the kitchen counter the night before. She could hear the ruckus continuing throughout the house, what the hell was going on, this wasn’t Dawson, unless he was taking out walls and destroying the place.

She called out for Granny, then Dawson, with no response. The noise continued, it was getting louder and closer as if someone was banging on the walls, but why? A pause in the disturbance sent a chill down her spine as the loud banging was replaced by heavy footsteps against her wood floors, that were getting closer and closer. The footsteps reached her door then stopped, as did Sam’s breathing as she sat laced with terror, expecting the door to open. A sudden rush of banging noises and heavy pounding on her door and the walls around the hallway froze her in fear, breathless, speechless. When her doorknob began to turn, she found her voice and screamed, a loud, familiar, blood-curdling scream.

Getting out of his truck, a loud scream from inside had Dawson charging the door, dropping everything in his hands, where he once stood. His heart sank, fearful of what he may find as he made his way through the front door. Dashing to Sam’s room, he noticed less than silence, but couldn’t identify a specific noise, just an extra presence. Pure adrenaline forced him into the room, prepared to defend her from whatever he found offending her.

Sitting in the middle of her bed, blankets pulled high, Sam sat petrified, pale, and shaking with sobs, her fear evident. He held her as she crumbled in his embrace, trying to absorb as much of her pain as he could, heart broken by her appearance, and eager to unravel what brought her to this point. He held her close, consoling her, as she let the words fall, recounting the eerie activity that left her so unsettled and frightened.

Her fear turned to anger, she felt so helpless and paralyzed by her circumstance, and that just wasn’t her. If not bed ridden, she would have opened the door herself, as scrappy as she is, and challenged whatever or whoever stood on the other side. It may not be the wisest move, but it was just how she rolled; she was a hard ass, able to fend for herself, until now. She couldn’t even take a shower without some sort of assistance, much less defend herself against even the apparent ghost that was haunting her.

He understood her frustration, independence and tenacity were the first things he fell for, and now she was completely reliant on others; that had to be a blow, but he was committed to seeing her through her temporary state. He gave her a few minutes to collect herself, while he went through the house searching for answers. What was it that had her so frazzled?

He diligently searched each room and looked in closets, nothing seemed out of place. He finally reached the back of the house and found that the door and adjacent window were unlocked, but nothing out of place other than the lampshade appeared to be crooked; that could have all been an oversight by Lou, while rushing to get Ellie to camp on time.

Without evidence of anything sinister, he didn’t have an explanation, but his intuition nudged at him. Something still didn’t feel right, and he did have that odd sense they weren’t alone when he burst through the door. He made a call. Even if it was nothing but a restless dream, it was worth letting Blake and Morgan know what had happened, if for no other reason than to have it documented, should anything else happen. This could just be another episode of Sam’s mind playing tricks on her as a result of the trauma she had endured, but he would hate himself if he didn’t give it worth, have it checked out, and there was really threat.

***

Dawson returned to Sam’s room where she sat completely defeated, her melancholy mood looming. To her surprise, without a word, he went straight to her bathroom, and started a warm bath. She watched from her bed, confused by his actions,
was he really going to take a bath, what the hell
? Before she could question his odd behavior, he returned to her bedside and scooped her up, careful not to jostle her injuries.

He kissed her gently before gingerly placing her on the dressing bench near her deep, jetted, bathtub. She hesitated briefly as he began to undress her, but the gentle and caring look he gave her, saying everything she needed to hear without a word shed, she gave in, understanding the depth of his intentions. He tenderly lowered her in to the warm bubbling water, careful to cushion her bad leg on the make shift cushion he made with extra towels on the tub’s edge. He wanted to take care of her, protect her, help her feel better, his thoughtful loving act replaced any anxieties she previously had and the fear that plagued her, was washed away.

The intimacy of this act warmed her body to the core. It was seductive, without a doubt, but it was as much emotional for her than a physical craving. He was so careful with her, understanding, and tender. Her larger than life alpha, macho, sex God, was warm and affectionate, as he cherished every inch of her. He was finding his way in, becoming a part of her, and that’s exactly where she was beginning to want him…for always.

He was mesmerized by her beauty, as much inside as out, she was captivating. He was completely and utterly taken by her, craved her, and completely connected to her. The deep-rooted emotions he was feeling weren’t of carnal nature, it was pure intimacy, fiery, and sensitive full-blown passion that was so thrilling it stung. Her walls were falling and he couldn’t wait to be all the way in, she was the one that he never knew he wanted.

Dawson kissed her again as he lifted her from the bath, where he helped her dry and dress. The single act divulged everything that was left to be said, yet not a word was shared, which left them as bonded as ever. He made her comfortable on the couch, while he made her a sandwich and tea, when the spell was temporarily broken by a knock at the door.