Page 9 of Rescued Dreams (Last Chance Fire and Rescue #8)

NINE

A melia heard the car behind her and stiffened so fast she dropped the piece of wood from her hands. She jumped back so it didn’t land on the toes of her tennis shoes. Getting knocked onto the concrete drive in front of the firehouse had left her achy and bruised.

The piece of wood she’d been about to board up the window with hit the bare planter, which was nothing but dry dirt and weeds, and fell toward her. She kept backing up, so it landed flat. Her back and hips hurt. She had abrasions on her elbows, and her head didn’t feel great.

She turned to see Ridge climb out of his car and rolled her eyes. Of course he’d come over. Determined to rescue her from…he didn’t even know what.

“Are you okay?” He raced over, concern in his features.

As if she needed compassion after the day she’d had. What she needed was to be left alone. And that included being left alone by the people who had ransacked her house while she’d been at work.

“I’m fine, Ridge. I don’t need help.” She had to say that. It was the principle of the thing.

But she knew he’d be determined to do the work for her, so she strode to the grass and lay down, all out of the energy to care which one of them actually nailed the board to the frame around the broken window. She settled onto the grass and stared up at the stars.

Ridge grabbed the wood off the ground.

She bent her elbows and supported her head so she could watch him. Of course he was going to help her. Amelia rolled her eyes again.

With nails from her tin now in his pocket and her hammer in his hand, he braced the wood and nailed the four corners in place. Once it could hold its own weight and not fall down, he added more nails.

Her side hurt. Despite what Trace and Kianna thought, she didn’t need an X-ray for her ribs when it was just a bruise.

Amelia wasn’t going to explain how she knew the difference between a bruise and broken ribs.

Not even to the police, especially not when they had zero leads and no evidence. Just her statement and whatever Ridge claimed he’d seen.

She’d told them what had happened, been checked out, and left. Only to come home and discover her front door ajar. Broken windows. Inside, there were busted walls, and her things had been scattered all over the floor in her room.

Too late, she realized Ridge was done. Now he towered over her, hands on his hips. “We need to talk.”

She groaned and slumped back on the grass again. Closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.

“But first I’m calling the police about your broken window.”

“Nope.” She sat up, shaking her head. “Don’t waste their time.”

“How did it break?”

Amelia pulled her hair tie out, because the ponytail wasn’t helping her headache, and ran her hands through her hair.

“Amelia.” He sounded choked.

She looked up at him. “What?”

She had no idea what that look was on his face. Was he just going to stand there staring at her?

“You’re purposely distracting me. You need to answer the question.”

“Distracting you?” She shook her head. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t need your help.”

If he needed her to, she would keep saying it over and over again.

Don’t want your help. Don’t need it. Not just for his sake.

It also helped to keep her own thoughts in line.

The promise of whatever could be between them was a wasted daydream.

She had work to do, and her life hardly had room in it for a relationship, even if she was interested in taking a risk like that.

Ridge turned and sat by her on the grass, enough space between them that he wasn’t crowding her. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down.”

Amelia frowned. “And it’s distracting?”

He scanned her head. “It looks good loose.”

She pulled it back and secured it in a messy bun, just to get it off her face. “This isn’t about my hair. I have a headache.”

He opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind. Shook his head. Said, “Are you hungry?”

Not what he’d wanted to say, but she didn’t feel like challenging him right now.

“I have cleanup to do inside. I’ll eat after.” Or she would fall into bed exhausted and eat tomorrow. There were probably some leftovers in the little fridge she kept in her room.

“Like glass from the window?”

She nodded. “The door was open when I got home. There are a couple more holes in the drywall than there were when I went to work.” She sighed, climbing to her feet.

He caught her elbow and helped her the rest of the way up.

“I’m fine, okay? It’s just a bruise on my side where I landed on it. That’s all.” She didn’t want him to bench her. “I can work tomorrow.”

Having to stay home because of injury was about the worst thing she could imagine. How could she do the work she was supposed to do and save people’s lives if she wasn’t up to the job? Kiss of death.

Ridge walked with her to the front door. “What did the cops say?”

“You mean about how the firehouse surveillance cameras don’t even show their faces? They told me after they watched it.” She sighed. “I wasn’t going to watch myself get tackled. I already felt it.”

He scanned the door frame, split a little close to the strike plate. “Someone broke in?”

“Not the first time. Won’t be the last.” She lifted a hand. “Don’t bother calling 911. If no one saw anything and they left nothing behind, then the police can’t find the culprits.”

Ridge frowned. “I have so many questions, I don’t know where to start.”

She could kick him out, but that would never satisfy him. What she could do was give him some time and then kick him out. “Order a pizza delivery from Backdraft, and I’ll sweep up the glass. I’m not saying I’ll answer everything, but you can ask.”

Ridge pulled out his phone, watching her. Probably wondering what was up with her since she was suddenly being accommodating.

Amelia wandered inside and left him to his confusion—and their dinner order.

She found the broom in her hall closet, and her footsteps echoed down the empty hall to the sitting room.

Whatever this one would’ve been called. More of the same bare floor.

Nothing on the walls. No window coverings or furniture.

Glass had shattered across the floor under the window where a metal radiator would’ve provided heat to the room generations ago. She’d disconnected it all because it was far too expensive to heat the entire house.

Besides, her room had its own fireplace.

She got all the glass in the dustpan and turned to find Ridge in the doorway. “Guess you think you know all my secrets now.” She straightened and realized…“How do you know where I live? I’ve never told anyone. The address in my file is a PO Box.” There was only one way. “You followed me?”

“Kane and Maria, his fiancée.” Ridge didn’t seem to feel guilty about it at all. In fact, he leaned against the wall like this was a casual conversation. “I asked them to keep an eye on you until the end of my shift. Just in case those guys came back for another try.”

She flinched and wasn’t able to stop it.

“What happened here? And how come you live in this house?”

“Who says I live in this house?”

He looked at the dustpan and broom, then lifted his gaze to her face.

“Move out of the doorway so I can go dump this in the trash.”

He followed her, his boots a dull echo on the floor behind her. That’s why she hadn’t added rugs, even though the floors got cold. No one could move silently through this monstrosity of a house.

“If you must know”—at least for the sake of not dragging it out—“this is a family house.” Amelia stepped on the foot lever, and the lid of the trash can flipped up.

Empty kitchen, just like the rest of the house.

The backsplash was way outdated. She watched enough home decor TV shows to know that.

But the wide farmhouse sink was a work of art.

“Where’s your fridge?”

Amelia said, “Not in here.”

“Can you please start explaining?”

She set the broom aside. Problem was, if she started talking, Amelia was worried she might not stop. “It’s my life. No one else needs to worry about it. I can take care of my own problems.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that. But sometimes even the most capable person needs help.

” He continued before she could respond to that.

“I know this house belonged to the former chief. The one who was a criminal. He held this town in a chokehold, he and his buddies. I’ve read all those stories, even if it was a long time ago. ”

“Welcome to the real, in-person next installment. Hopefully it’s the conclusion, because I’m so over having this house broken into.

” Amelia sighed. “I’ve put it on the market half a dozen times, but no one will buy it because he lived here.

I get three or four calls a week in September and October, people asking if they can use the house for a Halloween party or some kind of haunted house where they’re going to charge way too much for people to walk through and have the business scared out of them. ”

“A family house.” He kept his expression impassive. She could tell he was burning with curiosity.

“You’ve never told me much about your family,” she pointed out. “I’ve never seen your house, and I don’t know where your apartment is.”

“I moved a while back because my sisters came to live with me. I live in a town house now.”

“See.” She lifted her hands, then let them fall back to her sides. “I didn’t even know that.”

“What’s your point?”

Amelia leaned her hips back against the linoleum counter. “I’m supposed to tell you everything about my personal life, but the fact is, you don’t share any more readily than I do.”

They were pretty well matched as far as she could see. If he got her to tell him all about her family and who they were, or the whole of what had happened in Benson with her ex-boyfriend—which was another story entirely—then was he going to reciprocate?

Would he tell her what made him guarded so that he didn’t want to let people into his personal life easily?

It wasn’t bad or wrong to be a private person.

Nor did it have to be about self-preservation or boundaries put in place after trauma.

Could just be how he wanted to live. Separating personal and professional parts of his life.

But she wanted to know it all.

The same way he seemed to want to know about her life, even if it was only about making sure Truck 14 was good. That the team was safe. Enabling the police to stop whatever was happening to them.

He didn’t want to be part of her life. Not anymore. She’d ruined any chance they might’ve had by cutting things off last time. This was only Ridge doing his job.

If she did let him in, she would either learn he wasn’t worth it, or she’d discover he was and fall for him all over again.

Amelia didn’t know which one of those would be worse.

Either way, she’d wind up more heartbroken than ever. Because she really liked Ridge and respected him as a firefighter—even as her lieutenant. He was the kind of man who was worth loving, barring the revelation of any horrible secrets in his life.

This was about survival for her, with no margin for error. If she trusted the wrong person, the slipup would cost her life. She knew as much from personal experience. This was life or death.

She had to keep her heart guarded.

“Patterson isn’t my original last name. It’s the name I took when my mother remarried.” Just the facts. “This was my father’s house. I inherited it. No one will buy it. People think it’s fine to break in and trash stuff. Not that there’s anything to break, because I have nothing in the main house.”

She took a breath and continued. “They come by thinking he left something sordid, but I cleaned the whole place out after he was killed, and there was nothing like that. They’re looking for a payout. He’s supposed to have hidden money…somewhere in the house.”