Rescue Me (a quirky romance novel about secrets, forgiveness and falling in love)

by Allan, Sydney

  "Perfect. I'll see you in an hour and a half, say, eight?"

  "That's fine. Goodbye." She hung up the phone, shoved the paper with his name and hotel room into her jacket pocket and went to her office to change into coveralls.

  She needed to get to work, if only for a few minutes. She'd been gone for two days, leaving the shelter shorthanded, and there was plenty that needed to be done.

  Naturally, because fate had a nasty sense of humor, Jesse went into labor. She helped Pete with the first puppy, then glanced at her wristwatch and ran to her car. Seven-forty. I'll never make it in time.

  Recalling the brief phone conversation, she slipped into the driver's seat and started the car. The lazy late evening sun flashed in her rearview mirror as she pulled away from Paws and Claws and drove toward the freeway entrance ramp.

  She opened the window a crack to let a breath of cool air seep into the car's warm interior and punched the radio button. Instantly, the car filled with Beethoven's Symphony in A, her favorite. The music's tone, dark and tempestuous, suited her mood as she merged onto the westbound lane toward the airport. The music and the river of traffic roaring around her swept her closer to the meeting.

  Of course, because she was in a hurry, traffic ground to a red-lighted halt ahead, and she impatiently braked, glancing longingly at the service drive to her right. If only she'd taken the last exit instead of ignoring the digital sign a half-mile back. It had said there was an accident up ahead, but nine times out of ten those signs were wrong, especially out here, miles outside a major city. Darn!

  It took her twenty minutes to break clear of the clog, and she raced down the freeway, certain she would be very late. At eight-thirty, she turned into the Travelodge's parking lot, pulled into the first open spot she could find, and dashed into the building then hurried across the lobby toward the frosted-glass and oak door at the far end.

  The restaurant's hushed interior, dark and intimate, immediately calmed her nerves as she entered. A smiling hostess greeted her. "May I help you?"

  "I'm meeting..." she paused. What was his name? She'd run from her car and left the tiny slip of paper with his name and room number sitting on the passenger seat. "...I'm meeting someone. A man." God, did she feel stupid!

  The hostess simply nodded her head and eyed Hailey speculatively. Only then did Hailey remember she still wore her dowdy beige uniform. She ran her hands over her hair, brushing back a wisp that had strayed from her ponytail.

  "Do you know what he looks like, this man?" the hostess asked.

  "I've never met him. He called and--" She stopped. The hostess was looking at her like she was a freak, and she felt as though her heart would jump up her throat if she opened her mouth again. Warmth washed over her face, and she looked down, hoping there wasn't any dog doo or blood on her uniform. "I'll just go out to the car and get the information." She turned toward the door, wishing she didn't have to come back and knowing she should at least check to see if any men were waiting alone in the restaurant. Still, she was so embarrassed, the only thing she could think of was a hasty retreat.

  "That won't be necessary." A man's smooth, deep voice beckoned her to turn around.

  She swallowed, ran her hands over her hair again, and turned to face the man she'd raced across town to meet.

  Immediately, she regretted not having changed. His clothes, cut to fit him from top to toe, were immaculate, while she was in a tan coverall with traces of dog hair and other unmentionables glued to her.

  In awe, she admired his stunning good looks, his gold hair, streaked with bright highlights, and brilliant blue eyes. He looked like a guy she'd drooled over on the only open model call she'd actually had the guts to attend since moving to California.

  He waited patiently for her to finish gawking, his hand extended and a smile on his face. When she slipped her hand in his, he said, "Rainer Hartmann." His tone wasn't overly friendly, nor overly critical. It was...professional.

  "Mr. Hartmann, I'm Hailey Jensen."

  He released her hand, and she walked to the table he indicated and sat, then waited.

  He sat across from her, stirring his half-empty coffee with a slow, deliberate motion. Cool as a cucumber, whereas she was a bumbling idiot.

  "I'm sure you're curious to know why I wanted to meet with you." He tapped his spoon on the cup's rim then lifted the drink, eyeing her as he sipped. "Coffee?"

  "No, thanks."

  He took another sip then returned the cup to its saucer. "As I told you on the phone..." he began, then stopped, as though he wasn't sure he should continue. He crossed thick arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. "I'm here on your sister's behalf."

  "Yes, I remember you mentioning that." Would he get to the point?

  He looked into her eyes. "Your sister's condition is very serious."

  "What does that mean? How bad is she?"

  "This is her second course of chemo. The first put her into remission, and she remained cancer free for almost a year, but she started showing symptoms again about a month ago."

  The world tipped on its side and everything turned dark. She didn't know anything about leukemia, other than people got it, had chemo, got sicker and...and...Her eyes burned. Her nose threatened to run, and a sob sat in her throat. She swallowed hard, several times.

  Would Heidi be among its victims? Her twin sister? Her other half--the good half. The half she liked. The half she'd lived without for five years.

  She didn't know what else to say. "Did my sister send you here to tell me?" Now that Heidi was sick, did she want to make peace? Oh, God! Hailey didn't want to think about life without her sister.

  "No. She doesn't know I'm here."

  "Then why--" The rest of her words were swallowed by a sob. Her muscles shuddered, and tears threatened to spring from her eyes. A lifetime of memories flashed through her mind. Birthday parties, Christmases, secrets they had shared... Heidi couldn't die!

  "Heidi needs a bone marrow transplant, and you're potentially a perfect donor."

  "I'd like to donate, but will she accept my help? Has she told you...we've not spoken in years." Her gaze dropped to the table, and she toyed with the tines of her fork, then the corner of her napkin. She swiped at the irritating wetness on her cheeks, forced the memories from her mind, and instead tried to focus on what she could do, rather than what might happen.

  "She didn't tell me much," he said, "but she told me she wouldn't ask for your help. We tried to find another match, but we couldn't. We're running out of time. Her tissue type is quite rare, and it makes no sense to keep delaying. With each recurrence, the likelihood of a successful transplant is diminished."

  "We? You said 'we tried'."

  "I'm her doctor."

  "I see. What do you need me to do?"

  Rainer reached into his jacket pocket and drew out an envelope and laid it on the table. The word Northwest blazed in red ink across the envelope's front.

  She plucked it up and read the itinerary, then looked at him in alarm. "Is this for me?"

  "Yes. You need to come to Detroit immediately."

  "But it says I'm leaving tomorrow."

  He nodded, and for the first time since they'd met, she thought she saw a hint of compassion in his blue eyes. "I wouldn't ask if it weren't absolutely necessary. We must begin the pre-transplant chemo immediately if she's going to have a chance of living through this, and before we can do that, we have to run some tests on you to make sure you can donate."

  "I understand, but I'm in the middle of negotiations I can't delegate. Can't you do the tests here?" She wanted to help Heidi. Heck, she couldn't live with herself if she didn't. But jumping on a plane tomorrow was simply not possible.

  He scowled at her.

  When his silent chastisement grew annoying, she said, "I want to help. She's my sister, for God's sake..." But I have a business to run. I can't just up and leave. People are counting on me...

  He rocked forward in his chair. With his palms flat on th
e table, he stood.

  "Wait a minute," she said, reaching across the table and catching his wrist. Her heart drummed loudly, sending hot waves of anger through her body. "You could have given me more notice than this. Who is being unreasonable here?"

  He glowered at her. "I understand. You'll help as long as it's convenient."

  His words stung like acid. "That's not what I said." She stood, but failed to come remotely close to meeting him eye-to-eye. He was at least a head taller. Darn it, you'd think I'd done something to you. You have it all wrong, buddy. You come here steeped in attitude, hurl news that my sister is near death at me like I don't care, then drop this bomb on me and make sarcastic comments when I ask a simple, logical question. "I said I would help."

  He studied her for a moment, looking aloof, and said, "So, tell me, what will you do?"

  "You tell me what I need to do next--besides jump on a plane and fly to Detroit. Give me a list of the tests you need. I'll have them done tomorrow."

  He glanced down at his watch. "Tomorrow is Sunday. Where will you go?"

  "I'll find somewhere."

  "It's not that simple. I've spent hours searching for a local lab to run the tests, but I haven't found one able to take you on such short notice. Plus, you need an examination--which would cause further delay. This is the only option. I can have the tests and exam done within hours if you fly out with me tomorrow. Why don't you think about it? You can call me in my room. If I haven't heard from you by noon tomorrow, well, I'll assume everything Heidi told me about you was true. And I'll assume you don't wish to help her."

  Now, the pieces were starting to fit. He'd tried to find a better arrangement but failed. At least he wasn't intentionally being difficult. But a shadow of hostility lay below the surface of his formal tone. Enmity that burned her already raw nerves. Heidi had told him.

  Not waiting for her to say another word, he tipped his head in farewell, slid a business card across the table, and left the restaurant.

  His card held between trembling fingers, Hailey watched the door close, shutting him from view. Sorrow, anger and frustration pulsed through her veins. As the waitress stepped up and quietly set the bill on the table, those emotions matured into outright rage. What a jerk! She hoped she'd never see him again, but as her thoughts returned to her sister, she realized she would be seeing him again--soon.

  She reached into her pocket, slapped down the money for the check along with a healthy tip, and strode from the restaurant.

  It seemed there was no choice. Heidi needed a transplant. She was Heidi's only hope. The tests couldn't wait.

  A trip to Detroit was the only option.

  She went home to rest and pack, mostly preparing for the trip and thinking, since sleep was impossible. She lay awake in bed, planning the next few days. Andrew would have to take up the reins for a few days. She hadn't taken a day off in five years, since she'd opened the shelter, so she was overdue.

  The property closing would have to wait--risk or not. She hoped the delay wouldn't cause a problem with the recently deceased benefactor's family. It looked like life--a needy dog with puppies, and now a terminally ill sister--just wasn't going to let her get the marine rescue underway.

  But no matter what--business setbacks, an old rift between her and Heidi, their family--she'd donate that bone marrow.

  And to hell with Rainer D. Hartmann, M.D..

  Chapter 3

  Immersed in worry the next morning, Hailey took a slight detour to Pete's veterinary clinic before driving to the airport. She needed his help with the shelter and legal issues while she was gone. Andrew couldn't handle it all.

  Thank God Pete's clinic was closed today, she told herself as she parked her car on the sloping street. She didn't want delays, nor was she in the mood to be around people. All she wanted to do was to get to the airport in time for the flight.

  She dashed to the Victorian house sandwiched between two similar ones. The bottom floor lodged the clinic, and the top floor the man, a widower who was as content living alone as she was.

  Within a few short minutes, his friendly face, lined with a few extra creases of worry, greeted her at the front door. "Hello, Hailey. What are you doing on this side of town?" He led her upstairs to the living room and motioned for her to sit on the afghan-draped couch.

  Hailey sat, fingering the crocheted blanket as she impatiently waited for him to join her. "I need a favor."

  "Sure, anything. You know you need only ask." He bent, gathering a strewn newspaper from the floor and tossing it in a basket next to the wall. Then he proceeded to tidy the rest of the room.

  "I know we talked about you being a silent partner in the marine facility, but something's come up and I need to leave town for a few days. I have to handle a family matter. I don't know if I'll make it back in time for the closing, and I might need your help rescheduling--"

  "Don't worry, I'll handle it."

  "Thanks, Pete. I knew I could count on you. I mean, I'm hoping I'll be able to make it. I just want to be prepared in case I can't--Oh, and the shelter! Could you help Andrew out? He can't stay past five, and can't cover Saturdays, because of school. I know you're semi-retired and don't like working late--"

  "Not a problem. You know I don't mind helping." He studied her a moment, his keen gaze searching her face.

  Feeling the weight of his silent scrutiny, she looked away, focusing on Butterscotch, his ancient tabby lazing in the window. A bird fluttered outside, and Butterscotch's ears perked, then, his energy spent, he resumed his previous impassive expression.

  "So, you want me to cover nights and Saturday at the shelter, and reschedule the closing on the property? That's all you came to tell me." He paused. "Right?"

  "Yup. That's it." She stood. "Oh, and if you could, please keep this between you and me? As far as Amy and Andrew are concerned I'm in Los Angeles."

  "Got it. You know, if there's anything else you want to talk about--"

  "There's nothing. Really."

  Pete shook his head and stood. "Don't you trust anyone?"

  His question took her by surprise. "What do you mean? I trust you. Why would you say a thing like that?"

  "We've been friends for five years, and you still won't talk about anything but business. I can tell you're upset about something. There's nothing wrong with talking to a trusted friend."

  "I told you. I'm just in a hurry. Nothing is bothering me. Actually, everything is great! Our marine rescue is a done deal. We've both been dreaming of that."

  He stepped closer until he was standing directly in front of her. "So why the sad eyes? You can't hide them from me."

  "They aren't sad. They're tired. I couldn't sleep last night. Thinking about everything that needs to be done in the next--"

  He bent down until his face was inches from hers. "Bullshit."

  "You never swear."

  "And you're never honest. You live by heaping one lie on top of another. Why can't you at least be honest with me? I'm your business partner, for one. And your friend..." He straightened, and Hailey breathed a sigh of relief. "...At least I've always considered myself your friend."

  "Of course you're my friend."

  "Well, as your friend, I've kept my mouth shut for way too long." He resumed cleaning the room, but only shifted things from one position to another.

  Watching him, wondering what was causing his out-of-character behavior, she headed toward the door. "I don't know what you're talking about. I told you the truth." This was turning out to be one strange day, already.

  "Then you're worse off than I thought. You believe your own lies," he said to her back.

  She turned around and stared at him, the one person she trusted. His eyes, which she'd always found warm and welcoming, were now cold and determined. He never looked at her like that. "Why are you acting this way? Are you mad because of the shelter? I can find someone else if --"

  "You know that's not the problem."

  "Then what is wrong with you?" She f
elt her control slipping, and her eyes started burning. Darn it! She wouldn't overreact. It was worry. Shock. Yes, that was it. Pete was just being Pete.

  She glanced down at her watch. Forty-five minutes had passed since she'd left home, and she still hadn't called the doctor back yet. Urgency pressed upon her, its weight heavy on her shoulders as she visualized the airline ticket sitting in her car. The flight departed at three. It was a little after noon now. "I'm sorry. I don't have time to talk. I have to catch a flight." She turned the doorknob.

  He tugged at her elbow, and she glanced over her shoulder, annoyed and frustrated. Unexpectedly, he gathered her into his arms and held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head as he spoke, "I'm worried about you. That's all."

  "Everything's okay." She tipped her head to look at him. "Honest." Feeling awkward in his arms, and with the lie, she slipped from his grasp and stepped through the doorway. "I'll call you when I land in Detroit. Thanks again, Pete."

  "Anytime, Kiddo."

  She skipped down the stairs and sprinted to her car. If she hurried to the airport, she could be there by quarter to one. Driving like a madwoman, she called Andrew and told him she was attending a conference in Los Angeles.

  The entire drive, she couldn't shake the image of Heidi's face, pale and drawn, looking sicker than when they'd both had pneumonia.

  Heidi had to get better. She just had to.

  ###

  Rainer shook his head as images of Heidi's twin sister invaded his thoughts. Identical twins, my ass. They looked--and acted--as different as two people could. For one, Heidi was polite, reserved and respectable, with blond hair and a friendly smile.

  Her sister, on the other hand, had black hair and wore the most ridiculous clothes imaginable. She was filthy, unkempt, rude and selfish. No wonder Heidi despised her.

  The only thing they shared in common were those brilliant green eyes, like fine emeralds.