The Ranger's Passionate Love

by Nicole Jordan

  "Yeah, I just figured that, with the restaurant doing better...." he trailed off.

  He looks as lost as I am, reflected Kyara, her heart going out to him. But it's a bad idea. I'd never be able to trust him, and I couldn't tell him about me.

  "I'm sorry," said Kyara, turning to go back inside. "It's just... not going to work."

  She left him behind, watching her go back into the warmth.

  Kyara scrubbed at the inside of her front window, removing the fingerprints left as she'd put up her new lettering. Outside, autumn was coming to a close. The riot of red, yellow, and orange which had transformed the hills into burnished gold for the last several weeks was now fading. Brown leaves began to fall, leaving the trees stark and gray.

  The town had its own beauty, even now. The rapidly shedding trees twined together along the edge of the town, old maids holding hands as they settled in to sleep. The white paint of the houses along Main Street glowed in the pale blue light of the coming winter. Everyone was getting in a last moment outside, promising that winter would be colder than she could imagine.

  Even Jan seemed to be getting back out. There she was, half out of her door.

  Kyara's meandering eye wandered on, then snapped back to her elderly neighbor. Jan was slumping, half falling out of her front door.

  "Crystal," screamed Kyara before she remembered that she was still at school. Then she was out the door, crossing the street as fast she could run.

  By the time she got there, Mrs. Waite was on her hands and knees. The freezing autumn air slammed the door against the side of the house, rebounding to hit the old woman again and again. Kyara knelt next to her, placing herself between the door and its victim.

  "Mrs. Waite? Jan, are you alright?" asked Kyara. Jan didn't respond, staring forward. Her eyes were half closed.

  Stupid question. Of course she's not OK!

  "I'm going to get you inside," said Kyara as clearly as she could. Then she wrapped her arms around the older woman and tried to help her stand. Jan was freezing to the touch, her skin so pale it actually seemed white. She sagged against Kyara's grip, dragging both of them downwards.

  Kyara heaved them both backwards, spilling in through the doorway. Jan's eyes were open but unfocused as Kyara tried to pull her back and away from the wind whipping in from outside. The inside of Jan's house was almost as cold as the outside, and Kyara spied a large wood stove, now standing open and empty.

  Damn the lack of cell reception, thought Kyara. I need an ambulance here, now.

  Reluctantly leaving her friend on the floor, Kyara scrambled around the house looking for a phone. The living room in which Kyara found herself was filled with pictures and knick-knacks. Jason's eyes stared at her from a dozen photographs, as did the people Kyara thought must be his parents and grandfather. Kyara scrambled from table to table, knocking over newspapers and puzzle books as she searched desperately for a line to the outside world.

  Finally, hidden under a box of crackers, Kyara found her prize. Even as she dialed, she moved back to Jan, dragging a blanked from an old recliner with her.

  "9-1-1. What's your emergency?" came the voice on the line. It was loud, almost painfully so, set up to help Jan's failing hearing.

  "I just found my neighbor half out of her door and really cold. She's old. Um, Jan... Janice Waite."

  "Alright, Ma'am, just stay calm. We need you to stay on the line. Where are you?"

  "Main Street, East Hopeful. I, um, I don't know which number is hers. It's right across the street from number 15, though. The Main Street Soul Restaurant."

  "Good, Ma'am. Thank you. I'm sending an ambulance right away. Are you in a position to check on her? Can you check on her breathing?"

  Kyara followed the directions, first checking Jan's breathing, then trying to get her warm. She rushed around the room, pulling anything which looked warm off of the furniture. Then she pulled the cord on the phone tight as she tried the kitchen and the hall as well. The bedroom remained just out of reach.

  "I can't get more blankets from here, I have to put the phone down," Kyara told the operator on the other end.

  "That's fine," assured the operator as if talking to a small child, "just don't hang up. Leave the phone where you can get back to it as soon as you can."

  Kyara gently placed the phone down, then ran for the bedroom. There she grabbed every blanket she could, pulling them behind her into the hall and back to Jan.

  When she returned, Officer Marsh was standing over the woman's still body, checking her pulse with his fingers. He looked up at her, his eyes going immediately dismissive.

  "If anything's missing, I'll make sure Mrs. Waite knows who was in her bedroom.”

  Kyara's fist clenched. Asshole! Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. As if he can't see I'm here to help.

  Kyara didn't bother to respond. Instead, she just dragged the blankets over to Jan, hauling them over the woman's prone form.

  Is there more color in her cheeks? Kyara couldn't tell.

  Without a word, Kyara left Jan in the officer's care, running back into the cold to get firewood from the stack outside. She came back as soon as she could throwing wood into the stove.

  Tinder. I'm pretty sure it needs paper or something to get going. I saw that on TV.

  Kyara immediately started grabbing the newspapers from around the room, putting them in as well.

  A growl interrupted her.

  "Move your ass," spat Officer Marsh. "You're wasting your time." He pushed her aside, not bothering to be gentle.

  Fuming, Kyara returned to the waiting phone.

  It wasn't where she'd left it. It was hung up on its cradle.

  "I was supposed to stay on the line," said Kyara.

  "Not worth it," snapped Marsh from the stove, a careful little flame now going within. "It'll take them half an hour to get here. I'm taking her in my car."

  "Half an hour?" asked Kyara, stunned.

  "At least. You may have noticed we don't have a hospital in town," snapped Marsh sarcastically as he knelt over Jan, rubbing her arms through the blankets.

  "Fine," said Kyara. "What can I do to help?"

  Marsh looked at her doubtfully, but replied.

  "Come keep her warm. I'm going to warm up the squad car before we put her in it."

  Kyara went to her neighbor, trying to imitate what she'd seen the sheriff do. After a moment he nodded, then stepped out. Kyara studied her friend as she warmed her, looking for signs of improvement.

  Before long, Marsh returned, gathering up the tiny bird of a woman into his arms. She looked small and withered against his bulk. Kyara helped open doors to get her friend loaded into the back seat. Marsh got in the moment his passenger was settled, slamming his door shut. He pulled away without a word, leaving Kyara standing in the freezing driveway.

  Jason. Jason will want to know.

  Kyara rushed back to her restaurant. She ran to the kitchen, reaching for the little slip of paper still tacked up next to the phone. She dialed with fingers still numb from the cold.

  It clicked through to voicemail

  "You've reached Jason 'Jay' Hardison of the Valley News. Please leave a message stating who is calling, the time and date, and your reason for calling. Thank you."

  He changed his voicemail, Kyara thought, he mind locking on to any extra thought.

  "Jason, it's Kyara," she babbled quickly. "I just found your grandma. She was really cold. Officer Marsh took her to the hospital. She's alive, but I don't ... I'm not sure how bad it is. I'm going to follow them."

  Kyara hung up the phone, running around looking for her keys and coat. She took a moment to scrawl a hasty "Closed due to emergency" note and pit it to the door. Then she was in her car and following.

  Kyara sat in the waiting room, wishing she'd brought a book. Even her phone was dead, exhausted after straining to find some hint of a cell phone signal. It had been hours without word.

  I hate hospitals. All the waiting. All the not knowing. Kyara choked b
ack memories of the last time she'd been in a waiting room. It had been different then. She'd already known her father was gone.

  Jason came through the door to the waiting room, looking tired and frantic.

  "Where is she? Is she OK?" he asked the moment he saw her.

  "I don't know. They won't tell me anything because I'm not family," replied Kyara, aching at the familiar look of hurt and loss on his face.

  "Well, I am," he said, his voice resolute. "Come with me." He marched to the desk, Kyara trailing behind.

  "I'm here to see Mrs. Janice Waite," he announced to the receptionist. "I'm her grandson."

  The woman behind the desk nodded. "I'll have someone come get you."

  Jason nodded as though the sheer force of his head movement could make that happen sooner. Kyara walked with him back to the seats. He sat, but was jittery, his leg bouncing with constant motion.

  Kyara rested her hand on his knee, and he turned to look at her.

  "Thank you for being here," he said, his voice small and strained. "I thought you went to the other hospital. I drove forty-five minutes in the wrong direction. I don't know what I would have done if no one had been here at all."

  Kyara stroked his leg gently, not sure what to say.

  She was saved by a nurse, a stout, middle aged woman with a weathered, sour expression.

  "Mr. Waite?" she said. Jason stood.

  "Mr. Hardison. Mrs. Waite's my grandmother." When the nurse looked hesitant for a moment, he added, "I have her power of attorney." That seemed to satisfy the woman, who nodded and held open the doors.

  Jason stood and started to follow, then glanced back at Kyara. "Do you want to come, too?" he asked. His eyes, red-rimmed and vulnerable, begged her to follow.

  "Is she family, too?" asked the nurse, her voice carefully neutral.

  "This ... this is my fiancée," said Jason after a moment. "Right, Honey?"

  Kyara stared at him for a long moment, his desperate posture begging her to go along with the deception.

  Finally, Kyara stood. She took his hand and followed him through the doors.

  What followed was a blur. Long, identical hallways and carefully blank, anonymous faces ferried them from place to place. Jan was resting quietly, dehydrated but alive.

  Kyara mostly watched Jason. He was focused, asking all the right questions. But beneath that, she saw him struggling. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped and his head dropped forward whenever they were alone in the room. His eyes had turned a murky blue, deep and hollow next to the red which rimmed them.

  When they started asking him about nursing facilities, Kyara decided to put a stop to it.

  "Can we discuss this tomorrow?" she asked, cutting off a doctor. "My fiancé here is clearly exhausted, and you've said yourself that you're keeping her for observation tonight."

  The doctor, a short, round little woman who looked like a vaguely offended miniature pony, nodded grudgingly.

  "Great," said Kyara, looping her arm through his. Jason blinked at her, though whether he was upset or confused she wasn't sure.

  Kyara let him give his goodbyes to his still sleeping grandmother, then led him out into the parking lot.

  Darkness had closed in, turning an already cold day into icy chill. Jason tried to pull away from her, but Kyara held onto him.

  "Thank you again for being there," he said. "I ... it really helped."

  "Of course," said Kyara, nodding up at him. Jason stared down at her arm, still firmly looped around his.

  "My car's over there," he said, gesturing with his free hand. "And it will be hard to drive without my arm."

  "Nonsense," said Kyara, doing her best to channel her mother at her bossiest. "I know what it's like to have family in the hospital. You're in no condition to drive home back over those mountains. I'll take you, and bring you back in the morning."

  Jason looked at her, not saying a word. Finally, he pulled her arm to him, once, in a tiny hug.

  Kyara led him to her car.

  The drive back was long, and mostly quiet. Jason rested his head on the cold glass of the window, just staring into nothing. Kyara focused on navigating the twisting turns of the road in the dark. The pines along the road looked like huddled monks, leaning in to pray. What they were praying for, Kyara couldn't say.

  When the lights of Main Street finally hit his eyes, Jason stirred.

  "Can you drop me at my Grandmother's house? I want to bring her some of her things, and I'll be closer for going back in the morning." He sounded distant and lost. Kyara nodded.

  "That's fine," said Kyara. "I'm pretty tired, too, and am not sure I want to find a new place in the dark this late. I can pick you up from her house in the morning, and we can go see her."

  Kyara pulled up in front of her restaurant. The house across the street looked like a skull in the dark, its empty windows the staring eyes in the white paint bone. Jason studied it with miserable eyes. Kyara watched him, her own memories of loss looming large behind her.

  He shouldn't be in that giant, freezing house by himself tonight.

  "Hey," Kyara said before Jason could start to get out. "Why don't I come in and help you get the fire restarted?"

  He looked at her quizzically.

  "Do you even know how to start a fire?" he asked gently.

  Kyara shrugged, looking away.

  "I know it needs kindling." she said, trying to keep the tone light. Jason shook his head.

  "I'll be fine. Come knock in the morning once you're up? I'd like to get back there as soon as I can."

  Kyara nodded as he stepped from the car into the street, the wind whipping his hair out from the back of his head. Once he was inside, she got out of the car and went into her restaurant.

  Her apartment was right above the kitchen. It technically had an outside staircase from the side of the building, but on nights like this Kyara always took the inside stairs up from the kitchen. The inside stairs opened into what she was pretty sure had been a closet at some point. The zoning laws on the business/home were dubious, but since it had always been that way, no one in town really objected.

  Her apartment was cozy and warm. The smell of the food from downstairs was starting to seep into her house as a constant companion.

  It's good to be home, Kyara thought. To her surprise, it was true. This place had become home.

  She changed into the flannel pajamas she'd purchased on Caitlin's advice. Their warm comfort was a welcome relief after the stress of the day. She wanted to sleep, but she hadn't eaten since before the lunch rush. Leftovers called to her. She was almost done warming them in the pan when a knock came at the outside door.

  That can't be good. Did something happen to Jan the moment we left? Kyara hustled to the doorway, throwing it wide.

  Jason huddled on the tiny landing outside, shivering as he held himself tight.

  "Jason? Are you OK?" asked Kyara. "Come in out of the cold."

  Jason stepped inside, shivering a bit. His breath smelled like alcohol.

  "Sorry to bother you again," he said. "There's something stuck in Grandma's flue. It won't ... its all smoke. I can't get it unclogged in the dark."

  "Don't worry about it," said Kyara. "What do you need?"

  "Maybe a lift back to my place?" he said. Then he noticed what she was wearing. "No, never mind, you're ready for bed. I'm sorry. If I can borrow a few more blankets, that should be fine. It's only fall, after all."

  "Don't be an idiot," said Kyara. "You'll freeze. Here, eat some of these leftovers while I go change." The plate she'd made for herself slid in front of him.

  "No," he protested, "Don't."

  "Well," she said, turning back to him with her hands on her hips, "I'd say just borrow my car and come back in the morning, but you smell like you shouldn't drive."

  Jason studied the plate in front of him.

  "I haven't had that much. It was just a little to keep warm while I got things going," he said.

  "Your grandmother says
you have the alcohol tolerance of a three year old girl," responded Kyara.

  "Nana's got a big mouth," said Jason sulkily. "And I'm not that bad, I just can't pack it away like she can."

  Jan drunk. That would be a sight to see.

  "Eat," Kyara instructed. "I'm going to get changed."

  "Stay," he said suddenly. "You can change after, can't you? I ... I'd like to have someone around right now."

  The admission had clearly been hard for him. Kyara sighed and went into the kitchenette.