“Hon, you’re hyperventilating. Slow your breath.” Angela waited, then tugged the lid from Tara's glass and held it to her lips. “Chew on ice and hold it in your throat. You’ll feel better.”
Tara breathed easier and gingerly took small chunks into her mouth. It felt heavenly on her parched throat. Inwardly, she heard Ryan’s voice telling her to slow her breathing.
“I begged them to put you and I in the same room when they brought us in. Ryan wanted to stay in here with you, but they wouldn’t let him—” Angela choked up.
“Ryan?”
“I did what you said. I stayed in the shelter. You wouldn’t answer me, so I stayed still, praying for what seemed like forever. Then I heard Ryan calling your name.” Angela’s eyes watered.
Tara blinked. She didn’t remember Ryan calling her name. Why would he be there? They had been on a rocky ledge in the middle of nowhere.
“Gunnar and Ryan found us in the shelter. We all thought you were dead. The look on Ryan’s face…They pulled you off me and laid you on the ground. Ryan pushed on your heart, while Gunnar blew air into you. Ryan wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t give up. Took forever to get you breathing…” Angela choked up and glanced out the window.
She looked back at Tara. “Ryan never left your side. He rode in the helicopter with your head in his lap, whispering to you and kissing you. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Angela shook her head, swiping at tears. “Gunnar said he’d never seen Ryan do anything like that.”
Tara closed her eyes to remember. The sound of a helicopter…someone with her. Dad and Travis. Wait, she talked to them. Didn’t she? Was it real or did she dream it?
“Did the crew make it out okay?”
“Yes, thanks to you.” Angela raised her chin to look at her. “Hon, you were sent to Alaska to save the Aurora Crew. And Ryan was destined to fall in love with you. That’s why you’re here.”
Angela’s words enveloped Tara like a warm blanket. Gratitude cascaded over her. Ryan and Gunnar had saved her life. Ryan breathed life into her and started her heart. Without him, she wouldn’t be here. The reality of what happened slammed her like a brick.
Oh. God.
Tara could not speak. She simply stared at Angela like some divine messenger.
“Here, let’s raise the top part of your bed,” said Angela, pressing a button. The bed brought Tara to an upright position.
Angela gently slid her arms around her. They held each other a long moment before Angela let go of her. “The nurse said Ryan stayed in the lobby all night. They wouldn’t let him in because he wasn’t family.”
Tara’s head spun. She wanted to see Ryan more than anything she had ever wanted in her life. But not like this. God, not like this. She was beat to shit and riddled with white gauze and red skin. Her hair reeked from an experience no human should ever have to endure.
Someone tapped the door and a nurse with a long, black ponytail entered the room. “Good morning, missy! Good to see you awake. Let’s check those dressings.”
She gave Tara a wide smile and rolled her to her side. "In addition to smoke inhalation, you have multiple burns all along your backside. From what I understand they dropped fire retardant on you just in time or your burns would have been far worse." The nurse smiled and checked Tara’s saline drip.
“Is there a firefighter in the lobby?” croaked Tara. “He’s—he’s family.” It was her truth and she was delighted to say it.
“He waited all night to see you. I’ll send him in.” The nurse left, leaving the door partly open.
“Oh Angie, I must look like that raggedy chick who crawled out of the TV in that horror movie,” Tara rasped, smoothing her ratty hair. She pulled off the oxygen tube. When she lifted it from around her neck it became tangled in her hair. She gave up trying to disentangle it.
“I stink like I slept in a fire.”
“You did. Trust me, Ryan doesn’t give a hoot what you look like. Not after what you’ve been through.” Angela limped over and set a brush in Tara’s lap. “Here you go.”
Tara tried tugging the brush through her hair when a soft knock on the door made her freeze.
“Everyone decent?” Ryan’s voice made her heart jump. The anticipation of seeing him rocketed her over the moon.
“Yes, unfortunately,” quipped Angela, tugging her gown higher on her chest.
He poked his head around the door. “Hey, Angela, how’s the knee and ankle?”
“Better, thanks to you. You’re my forever hero, along with Tara and Gunnar.”
Ryan smiled and entered the room. “Just doing my job.”
“Don’t give me that ‘aw shucks’ business. What you and Gunnar did was miraculous.” Angela glanced at Tara, still holding the brush near her hair.
“You and Tara need some privacy. And I need some exercise.” Angela hobbled on her crutches to the door. “I’ll be back later.” She disappeared into the hallway.
Ryan stood in the center of the room looking at her. His blonde-tinged hair stuck out in all directions, and stubble covered his jaw. His sooty shirt was no longer yellow, a striking contrast to the sterile hospital room.
“Waters, you’re awake.” He came toward her.
“O’Connor, it’s really you,” she whispered. Her brush clattered to the floor.
He stooped to pick it up. “It’s really me.”
Every feeling she had for him sped to the surface. He was a magnificent sight and seeing him pooled tears. But she didn’t care—she had nothing to prove anymore.
“Thought I’d lost you, Waters.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” she whispered, fastening her gaze to his. “You have a habit of saving my life.”
He grinned. “Don’t take it personally.” He moved next to her bed and set the brush on the nightstand.
Tara smiled at him through her tears. “Thought I’d never see you again.”
He bent to her, holding her gently, caressing the back of her head as
