Official Duty

by Doreen Roberts

  With one last desperate look at her, Marty hooked a leg over the railing.

  Using all her strength, Ginny pushed and shoved, then held on to his shoulders until his feet were steady on the ladder.

  “Don’t wait,” he said, his voice rasping painfully. “Come down with me.”

  “I’m right behind you. Just go!” The railing felt hot as she clung to it and watched Marty inch his way down, pausing every now and then as the coughing racked his body.

  Cory had reached the ground and laid his burden down. He knelt over her, feeling for her pulse. Over by the car Jed talked urgently into his radio. Marty was halfway down now, moving at a snail’s pace.

  Cory looked up and yelled again. “Ginny! You’ve gotta come down now!”

  Just as he spoke, a thundering roar shook the floor beneath Ginny’s feet. She turned to see the far end of the building collapsing in flames and then the thick black smoke rolled over her, blinding her, choking her.

  Gasping and coughing, she clawed for the railing. Tears streamed from her eyes and she bent double as a fit of coughing threatened to cut off her breath entirely.

  Someone below her yelled, “Jump! We’ll catch you!”

  Balanced on the rail, one foot groping for the ladder, she considered the option. Where were the fire engines? Where the devil was Cully?

  And then she heard his voice. He was below her somewhere, shouting her name, though she couldn’t see anything through the dense smoke. Just the knowledge he was there gave her strength.

  She clambered onto the ladder, the deep rasping coughs threatening to shake her grip loose and throw her to the ground. One rung down, then another. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t hold on.

  Strong hands gripped her ankles, then her thighs, then her waist. A firm body slammed into hers and his voice was harsh in her ear. “Let go, Ginny. I’ve got you.”

  His fingers pried hers from the ladder and then she was hoisted on his shoulders. Shuddering coughs tore at her lungs and she could hear a horrible wheezing noise that she realized was coming from her chest.

  She was on the ground and someone was fastening something over her nose and mouth. At last she could breathe. She closed her eyes and let the soft darkness take her away.

  Chapter Eight

  Her throat and mouth stung, as if she’d been chewing sandpaper. With an effort she opened her eyes but the bright light dazzled her and she quickly closed them again.

  Water. Dear God, she needed water. She turned her head and cautiously opened her eyes again. Cully sat on a chair by her bed, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in the rhythm of a deep sleep.

  She tried to speak but could produce nothing more than a hoarse whisper. Her hand seemed to move of its own accord, reaching for his knee.

  As she touched him he started, his eyes flying open, his body already leaning forward before he was properly awake. “Ginny. Thank God.”

  She heard the relief in his voice and smiled. It was nice to know he’d worried about her. “Where are we?”

  “Hospital. Rapid City.” With bent elbows he flexed his arms, then reached for a large plastic mug with a straw poking out of it. “The nurse said you could have a couple of sips of water when you woke up.”

  “Please.”

  Sliding his arm under her head, he raised her shoulders so she could drink.

  The water tasted better than the most expensive bottle of champagne. The cool, wet liquid soothed her throat and gratefully she swallowed a couple of mouthfuls before drawing back from the straw. “Thank you.” Her voice was still a rasping whisper and she cleared her throat, wincing at the pain.

  “Don’t try to talk.” Gently he eased her back onto the pillow and withdrew his arm. “The doc said your throat would hurt for a while. She’ll give you something to help that.”

  “How…long…?”

  He glanced at his watch. “You’ve been out for about three hours.”

  “Am…I…?”

  He understood at once. “You’re doing fine. Doc says you should be able to leave today if you feel up to it. Apart from some smoke inhalation, you got away pretty lightly. You were damn lucky.”

  Now he sounded angry. She peered up at him. His scowl confirmed it. “What—?”

  “Sshh!” He reached for the water again and once more she was treated to the comforting strength of his arm holding her shoulders.

  Already she was feeling better. The water went down more easily this time and although her lungs ached and her stomach muscles hurt from all the coughing, she definitely felt stronger.

  “Thank you,” she said, gratified to hear a faint semblance of her voice, one stage better than the whisper.

  She waited until Cully had sat down again before trying again. “Marty and Rosie?”

  Cully frowned. “Who?”

  “You know, the elderly—” A cough interrupted the sentence, stinging her throat again.

  “I told you not to talk. I’ll leave if you don’t quit trying.”

  She nodded, her gaze anxious on his face.

  “They’re both here, and doing fine. Luckily there were only a handful of people staying at the motel. If it had been the height of summer, there might have been more tourists passing through.”

  “My purse? Where—?”

  His warning frown silenced her. “In the Jeep, along with your clothes, though I’m afraid that overnight bag of yours is headed for the trash.”

  She relaxed, knowing that at least she still had her credit cards and her airline ticket home.

  “More water?”

  She shook her head.

  “I reckon you won’t be going back to the Sagebrush. By the time the fire engines got there, it was pretty well burned down.” He yawned, then got to his feet. “Guess I’d better let you rest. It’ll be dawn before too long and they start bringing breakfast around early in this place.”

  She didn’t want him to leave. He looked exhausted and she realized he must have been up all night. “Thank you,” she whispered again.

  His eyes looked bleak when he looked at her. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “There wasn’t time.”

  She coughed again and he held up his hand. “Okay, I’m going. Get some sleep.”

  He turned to pull aside the green curtain that surrounded her narrow bed.

  “Wait!” The word came out as a croak but he paused to look back at her. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

  His smile made her feel better. “Just doing my duty, ma’am.” He crammed his hat on his head. “Look, I don’t know how long you plan to stay here, but since you have nowhere else to stay for the time being, you’re welcome to stay out at the ranch. We have plenty of room and Lyla would enjoy the company. I reckon the dogs would like it real well, too.”

  She wanted to take him up on the offer. Oh, how she wanted to, if only he’d given her some inclination that he wasn’t just being polite. Lyla and the dogs. He hadn’t said if he wanted her to stay.

  Apparently taking her hesitation for indecision he said lightly, “You don’t have to make any decisions now. Think on it, and let me know what you want to do.”

  She nodded and he raised his hand in a brief farewell before disappearing around the curtain.

  A tear formed at the corner of her eye and she brushed it away with an impatient hand. Well, what did she expect? That absence would make his heart grow fonder? She had to quit hoping for the impossible.

  She turned onto her back and stared at the patch of ceiling above her bed. What was it he’d said when she’d mentioned a wife? I guess I never found anyone interested enough in that position. She couldn’t believe that. There had to be lots of women in Gold Peak who would kill to be his wife.

  Was she one of them? She didn’t want to answer that question. She was too afraid of the answer. Not that it made any difference. He couldn’t have made it any plainer if he’d put it into words. He was angry at her for leaving. But only his pride had been hurt. He’d never tr
ied to get in touch with her those first lonely weeks in Phoenix, even though Mabel had her phone number and could have given it to him.

  But he’d never asked. He hadn’t cared enough. And she’d be a fool to go on hoping for something that could never happen. Maybe this fire was a sign for her to get out while her heart was still intact. Before she started kidding herself that the haunted look she’d seen in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking meant anything.

  She must have slept, since the next thing she knew a nurse was bending over her, shaking her gently by the shoulder.

  “Ms. Matthews? How are you feeling?”

  Ginny blinked sleepily at the round smiling face above her. “Better, I think. Thirsty.”

  “Here. Can you sit up?”

  Ginny nodded and hauled herself back onto her pillows. She took the cup from the nurse and drank greedily until the nurse took the cup away from her.

  “You need to take it easy on the water at first. We don’t want you bringing it all back up again.” The nurse popped a thermometer in her mouth then reached for her wrist and began checking her pulse. Apparently satisfied, she let her go and took the thermometer from her mouth. After peering at it for a moment she tucked it in her pocket then scribbled something on the chart above Ginny’s bed. “Now,” she said briskly, “can you manage some breakfast?”

  “I think so.” Ginny gingerly cleared her throat. “When can I leave here?”

  The nurse reached for the curtain and dragged it back to reveal a large window. Sunlight bathed the pink blanket covering Ginny, making her feel even more determined to get out of that bed.

  “The doctor will be in to see you soon. You can ask her then.” The nurse disappeared, leaving her alone again.

  Noises from the other side of the curtain told Ginny she wasn’t alone in the room. She was glad the nurse hadn’t pulled back the curtain separating the beds. She needed to be alone. To think.

  She wasn’t given much time to do that, however. Breakfast arrived, served by a nervous young girl in a pink striped uniform and no sooner had Ginny finished the scrambled eggs and bacon than a tall, willowy woman bustled around the curtain, uttered a brief greeting and reached for the chart above her bed.

  Lines of weariness etched the doctor’s brow as she studied the notes while Ginny watched anxiously. Finally the other woman lifted her head. “I’m Dr. Webster. I treated you last night when you came in. How do you feel?”

  “Better.” Ginny’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “Well enough to go home.”

  The doctor frowned. “I understand you live in Philadelphia.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I really don’t think you should be traveling just yet. Give it a day or two, and give your lungs a chance to recover. You’ve given them quite a workout.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Is there somewhere you can stay for a couple of days? You have friends or family here?”

  A vision of Cully popped into Ginny’s mind. No, it was the last place she should be staying. “I have a house in Gold Peak. I can stay there until I feel better.”

  Dr. Webster seemed satisfied with that. “Very well. I’ll sign the release. I’ll also write you a prescription for that throat. If you have any more trouble with your breathing, or the coughing doesn’t go away in a day or two, I want you to come and see me again. All right?”

  “I will. Thank you, doctor.”

  “Wait for the nurse to help you dress.” Dr. Webster moved to the curtain. “You might feel a little light-headed at first, but that should pass.”

  She disappeared and Ginny waited a moment or two before swinging her feet to the floor. The doctor was right. The floor tilted like the deck of an ocean liner. She sat down on the edge of the bed and took some deep breaths. That made her cough and she waited for the spasms to pass before getting unsteadily to her feet again.

  At that moment a small dark-haired nurse appeared around the curtain. “Ah, there you are.” She beamed at Ginny. “And here are your clothes.”

  Ginny took the underwear, clean jeans and tank top from her in surprise. “Where did these come from?”

  “Your husband brought them in.”

  For a nasty second or two Ginny’s heart stopped beating. “My husband’s dead,” she said, her grating voice making her sound grouchy.

  The nurse looked confused. “Oh, sorry. I meant the cute cowboy who brought you in last night. I thought he was your husband.”

  Fat chance, Ginny thought wryly. She was tempted to ask her what had given her such an idea but thought better of it. “No,” she said carefully, “that was Cully Black. The county sheriff?”

  The nurse laughed. “Oh, right. I thought he looked familiar.” Then her face changed. “Oh, dear. I suppose I should tell you, he’s waiting for you downstairs. I hope he’s not… I mean you’re not…” Her voice trailed off in embarrassment.

  “He’s not arresting me,” Ginny said with a smile. “He’s a good friend, that’s all.”

  “Whew, I’m so glad. You don’t look like a criminal.” The nurse studied her with frank curiosity. “I heard you were in that motel fire in Gold Peak.”

  Struggling into her jeans, Ginny nodded.

  The nurse shook out the pale green top, chattering happily as she waited for Ginny to take it. “It’s all over the news today. Almost totally destroyed, they said. And you know the worst of it? They say someone deliberately set it on fire. Now who do you suppose would want to do a thing like that?”

  Ginny’s fingers suddenly felt too big and clumsy to zip up her jeans. Her mouth felt dry and she reached for the water.

  “Probably a kid playing pranks, if you ask me,” the nurse prattled on. “I really don’t know what gets into the kids nowadays. All that violence on TV, that’s what it is.”

  Ginny swallowed a gulp of water and choked on it.

  The nurse took the cup away from her and set it down. “Are you all right? You look kind of pale. Maybe you should just sit here for a while and get your bearings.”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  She’d croaked the words and the nurse frowned. “You don’t look fine.”

  Ginny forced a smile. “Really, I am. Just drank too fast, that’s all.” Why hadn’t it occurred to her? She’d assumed the fire was one of those nasty accidents that happen in motels and hotels sometimes. Someone falling asleep with a cigarette in his hand. Electrical faults. The building was old, it could have easily happened that way.

  Only it hadn’t. Someone had deliberately burned it to the ground. Someone who hadn’t found what he wanted in her room? Someone who’d decided to get rid of her? As he’d gotten rid of the Corbetts?

  “Well, if you’re sure.” The nurse still watched her, her eyes full of doubt. “Wait there and I’ll get a wheelchair.”

  Ginny nodded, closing her eyes as the nurse disappeared around the curtain. The woman in the next bed was talking on the phone, apparently to her young son, reassuring him that she was all better and coming home in the next day or two.

  Ginny felt a strong twinge of envy. How good it must be to have a normal life, where all you had to worry about was how well your kid was being taken care of while you were away.

  All the while she was growing up she’d dreamed of excitement and adventure. That’s what Cully had been at first…an adventure. Only she hadn’t wanted the adventure to end. She’d wanted to take him with her, to share the excitement and the wonder of the world out there.

  When he’d refused to go, she’d nursed her broken heart and stubbornly clung to her dream. When she’d married Brandon it had seemed that her dreams were coming true. She’d traveled the world with him, seen sights she’d only imagined in those childish dreams.

  She’d sailed up the Amazon, climbed the Eiffel Tower. She’d flown over majestic snow-covered mountains and watched the sun rise from a vast, tropical ocean. She’d had excitement all right, enough to last her a lifetime.

  Now this. This was excitement
she could do without. Right now she’d gladly trade her life with the most boring life imaginable. As long as Cully was in it.

  Shaken by the depths of her longing, she forced her mind off the subject.

  “Here we are!” The nurse appeared around the curtain and beckoned to her. “Come on, get in the wheelchair. We don’t want to keep Mr. Hunk waiting now, do we?”

  Ginny managed a fake smile as she seated herself in the wheelchair. She felt like a fraud being pushed down the corridor to the elevator. She was perfectly capable of walking. In fact, she would have vastly preferred to be walking right then, instead of being wheeled into the lobby where Cully was leaning against the reception desk, chatting to the entranced young woman seated behind it.

  Catching sight of Ginny, he straightened at once, his face creased in concern. “You sure you’re up to leaving here?”

  “Very sure.” Just to prove it, Ginny shoved herself out of the wheelchair. “I can walk from here,” she told the nurse, whose sole attention seem to be fixed on Cully.

  “I’m supposed to wheel you outside,” she said. “Do you have your car outside, Sheriff?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Cully took hold of Ginny’s arm, his warm grip giving her more comfort than she should feel. “I can manage from here.”

  “Well, if you’re sure.” Obviously disappointed, the nurse turned the wheelchair around. “’Bye, Sheriff. ’Bye, Ginny. Good luck.”

  She was going to need it, Ginny thought grimly as she walked unsteadily out into the warm sunshine.

  After the clinical aroma of the hospital, the street stench of exhaust fumes and hamburgers from a nearby fast-food restaurant was almost welcome.

  Cully supported her with his arm under her elbow as he led her to his Jeep. “Can you climb in or do you need some help?” he asked her when she eyed the vehicle.

  “I can manage.” Shaking his grip free, she reached for the door handle and hauled herself into the car. It bothered her how weak she felt, as if she’d been lying in bed for a week instead of a few hours. Not much longer, in fact, than she normally slept.