“Mom?” Amy’s voice was concerned. “We heard the phone. Is everything okay?”
“No,” Lynda said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Nothing’s okay.”
Kathleen came into the room and hugged her. “Tell us what you need.”
While Amy got ready to take Lynda to Kalispell, Kathleen made her a cup of coffee and offered her some words of wisdom.Before Lynda knew it, she was sitting in the passenger seat of her car, heading toward the hospital.
The drive to Kalispell passed in a blur of headlights and worried conversation. Amy gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, periodically glancing at Lynda with concern.
Lynda stared through the passenger window at the dark landscape rushing past, her mind cycling through worst-case scenarios.
How badly was Matt hurt? Were the animals really all safe, or was Carol trying to spare her? And the shelter—years of community effort, thousands of dollars in donations and improvements, and all the plans for the wildlife rehabilitation center were gone.
When they arrived at the emergency department, it was busy despite the early hour. Lynda rushed to the reception desk, her heart pounding.
“I’m looking for Matt Reynolds,” she said breathlessly. “He was brought in from a fire?—”
“Are you family?” the receptionist asked.
Lynda hesitated for a fraction of a second. “I’m Dr. Lynda Morth. I work with him at the veterinary clinic.”
“Room 7. He’s stable, but they’re still evaluating him for smoke inhalation.”
Lynda hurried down the corridor with Amy close behind her. Through the partly open door of Room 7, she could see Matt propped up in bed with an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth. His face was streaked with soot, his hair singed, and angry red burns covered his forearms.
But his eyes were alert, and when he saw her, relief flooded his features.
“You shouldn’t have come,” he said, his voice hoarse and muffled by the mask as a nurse checked his vitals. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lynda said, moving to his bedside. She wanted to touch him, to reassure herself that he was okay, but his hands were wrapped in gauze. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been breathing campfire smoke for hours,” Matt admitted. “But I’m fine. More importantly, all the animals got out. Even Whiskers—you remember Mrs. Chen’s cat? She was hiding under Carol’s desk, but I found her.”
Even injured and exhausted, his first concern was for the animals he’d saved. Lynda felt tears prick her eyes. “Matt, you could have died in there.”
“But I didn’t,” he said. “And neither did they. That’s what matters.”
A doctor entered the room with a clipboard in her hand. “Hi, Mr. Reynolds. I’m Ceire O’Leary, a consultant with the hospital. How are you feeling?”
Matt moved the oxygen mask away from his mouth. “A little sore.”
“We can give you something for that,” the doctor said as she made some notes on his chart. When she was finished, she looked at Matt. “We’d like to keep you here for a few days. Your oxygen levels are improving, but we want to monitor you for signs of delayed respiratory distress. The burns on your arms are second-degree but should heal well with the proper care.”
Lynda moved closer to Matt’s bed. “Does he need to go to a burn center?”
Ceire shook her head. “His burns aren’t life-threatening. As long as Matt’s lungs respond to the treatment we’re giving him, he’ll be okay here. The outpatient clinic in Sapphire Bay will provide any follow-up care after Matt’s discharged.” She smiled at Matt. “We’ll find you a bed on a ward soon. It’ll be a little quieter than here.”
After the doctor left, Matt pulled off his oxygen mask despite the nurse’s protest. “Lynda, you need to know that the puppiesare traumatized. Star especially. She wouldn’t leave her kennel when the fire started. I had to carry her out. They’re going to need specialized care, somewhere quiet and secure.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Lynda said, though privately she wondered how they would. “Right now, you need to focus on getting better.”
“The building?” Matt asked quietly.
Lynda couldn’t bring herself to answer, but her expression told him everything he needed to know.
Half an hour later, while Stephanie sat with her dad in his room, Lynda was in a family room with Carol. Amy had gone to get coffee, leaving the two women alone to discuss the fire.
“I’ve been the shelter manager for eight years,” Carol said, staring at her hands. “I’ve seen floods, power outages, and budget crises. But this...” She shook her head. “The inspector will be there later today, but the fire chief thinks the fire started in the electrical wiring by the back kennels. It was original to the building and probably sixty years old.”
