“As soon as the doctor releases me. After his morning rounds, the nurse said.”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
“You don’t need to do that.” It was one thing to be with him here, in the hospital room. Here, she was the fire victim he’d saved, the patient he was checking on. Outside these walls, she didn’t know what they were, but the way he made her insides warm and melty … that was scary.
He glanced around the room. “You don’t… Where’s your family, Sophie?”
“I don’t have any.”
Nate frowned. “None?”
“My mom died a week after I turned eighteen. I’ve been on my own ever since.” All true. Her dad hadn’t even been there for her years ago when he’d lived with them. And her brother… Who knew where he was these days? She hadn’t laid eyes on him for years.
“I’m sorry—”
“It’s okay. It’s been a long time.”
“It’s just my dad and me,” Nate said, pulling the chair close to her bed and sitting. “He’s a fire lieutenant, so we’re tight.”
“You work together?” She gladly latched onto the topic of his family to get away from hers.
“Yep. We worked together all day.”
“Have you heard if they figured out the cause of the fire?” She’d been curious, couldn’t help wondering during the endless hours by herself before Iona had come. She’d questioned Iona, as well, but if anyone knew the cause, it hadn’t hit the media yet. The more she wondered, the more she needed to know.
Nate pressed his lips together, a minute movement, before he spoke. “There’s always talk.” He didn’t meet her gaze, and she wouldn’t have thought anything of it if she hadn’t noticed his unwavering eye contact up until now.
“You know, don’t you?” she said.
“It’s early. No conclusive evidence the last I heard.”
She narrowed her eyes, studying him. He was speaking too carefully. And he hadn’t given her a flat-out no. Which she suspected meant yes. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “A few more minutes and you wouldn’t have made it out of that fire alive, Sophie. I’d say that’s bad.” His voice was thick with emotion, and that got to her. A knot pulsed in her throat, threatening to prevent her lungs from getting enough air.
Because of him, she was here. Alive.
She fought the deluge of emotion — gratitude, fear, even some anger that either of them had been put in that position. She massaged her temples and forced air into her windpipe, past the lump in her throat. Refocused her mind on the facts, which were always safer than feelings.
“Was it Mrs. Forester?”
“Was what Mrs. Forester?” Finally, Nate looked at her.
“The fire. Did she leave a candle burning or something?” At his blank look, she explained, “The old woman in the office suite next to mine. She proclaims to be a psychic. She brings her cat, Nefertiti, to the office on a leash. I … worry about her.”
“Worry how?”
“I don’t think she’s all there. She used to forget which door was hers until she put the foil door cover of the sparkly, gold angel up.”
The room phone rang, startling both of them. Nate motioned to the nightstand against the wall, back behind and to her left, and she nodded, knowing it was Iona and that Iona would get a kick out of “her firefighter” answering her phone after the way Sophie had rattled on about him earlier.
“Sophie’s room.” He stood next to her shoulders and listened. “Just a moment, sir.”
Sophie was trying to figure out what “sir” would be calling her when Nate held out the phone with a puzzled look.
“William Alexander would like to speak to his daughter,” he said. “I assume that’s you.”
Her blood went cold at the name. “Technically speaking.” She stared at the receiver, searching her mind for a way to avoid talking to the man. Finding none, she took it as her stomach tightened into a rock.
