by Renee Roman
Blaze took the offered bottle. “Sure.”
Mindy picked up a remote and the miniscule flame roared to life. The overhead lights dimmed as she gestured to the couch. “Everything is so convenient nowadays it’s a wonder we even walk on our own anymore.” Mindy stood still, looking a little lost. Maybe she was having second thoughts. She wasn’t the only one.
Blaze set the unopened bottle down. “If you’ve changed your mind there’s no hard feelings. My mood isn’t the greatest tonight.”
“No. It’s not that.” Mindy sat. “I haven’t done this in a long time.” She clasped her hands in her lap and looked down. “Not since my partner died four years ago.”
Four years could seem like a lifetime. “Have you been intimate with anyone since?” Blaze asked.
Mindy shook her head. “No. At first, I felt guilty for even looking at another woman. Then…” Mindy’s voice cracked.
Blaze took her hand and held it between hers. “Then?”
“I haven’t felt very desirable. Dana made a point of telling me I was old and lucky to have her.” Mindy looked up with unshed tears pooling in her eyes.
Her temper flared. Why the hell do women do that to each other? “I can assure you, you’re very desirable.” She could put aside her own feelings of angst but couldn’t help wondering what had been different about tonight for Mindy, and why she’d chosen Blaze.
“You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.” Mindy tried to pull away, but she held on.
“You’re right. I don’t.” She brushed the tears away from Mindy’s cheeks, then pulled her to her feet. “Show me your bedroom.”
Mindy was about to protest, but Blaze silenced her with a finger to her lips. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long beat before Mindy nodded and led the way down the hall. She glanced around at the neat space. Mindy must have prepared for company. Nothing looked out of place. Maybe she should find out more, but Mindy already suffered a lack of self-confidence. She didn’t need to add to her insecurities by stopping to ask questions.
Blaze undressed to her sports bra and briefs, then slowly undressed Mindy with tenderness, letting her eyes roam over Mindy’s body, hoping to dispel the trembling that had started the minute they’d entered her bedroom. She laid Mindy on the bed before joining her and then explored her body, kissed her gently, giving Mindy what she thought she needed. Though she knew nothing about her, she deserved to move on with her life. If a night of tenderness and connection could help, Blaze could oblige.
Late into the night, Mindy lay asleep beside her, her breathing deep and regular. Blaze slipped from beneath the covers and gathered her clothes, quietly shutting the bedroom door behind her. She found the bathroom to relieve herself, then washed up. After she was dressed, she went to the kitchen to find paper and pen and wrote a note.
Mindy,
Never doubt yourself. You’re beautiful in every way. Thank you for a lovely time.
Blaze
She walked to her motorcycle as the last stragglers left the EroZone. Blaze was glad she didn’t recognize any of the faces. She was done being some woman’s idea of a notch on their post of conquests. Mindy certainly hadn’t been a conquest. She’d been a lost soul who, perhaps, had recognized the same in Blaze, and she didn’t want to be lost any longer.
The engine beneath her rumbled to life and she adjusted her clothing. She hadn’t let Mindy touch her, wanting Mindy to be the focus of attention. Her own needs would have to wait a bit longer.
Chapter Three
Blaze paced through the house. She’d been restless for days.
“Meow.”
Blaze chuckled when Baxter jumped beside her and rubbed her head against her hand. “Thought you’d come home for a late breakfast?” Baxter purred appreciatively as she scratched her head. Another cry confirmed food was what she wanted, not her absent human.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go see what stinky meal is on the slate.” Much as she loved the fur bag, she never understood why cat food had to smell so obnoxious.
Her duty with Baxter done, she made up her mind to do something other than pace. The rosebushes needed pruning and the bird feeders had been empty far too long. Once those tasks were done, Blaze glanced around at the expansive gardens and went to the shed for a shovel and pickaxe. She’d been having an ongoing conversation with herself about the lilac bush she’d been trying to save. The bush was obviously old, and there’d been one sparse bloom this spring. As much as she hated giving up on it, there was nothing more she could do. It had to go.
By the time she finished, the sun was setting and sweat streamed down her chest. The offensive bush lay in a heap of dry, rotted, twisted branches. They’d soon join the compost pile. The physical exertion felt good since she hadn’t been to the gym in weeks. After storing her tools, she dragged away the limbs and stumps. Satisfied with the progress she’d made, she headed for the shower.
After she ruffled a towel over her hair and pulled on clean briefs and a bra, she stared at her reflection. “Now what?” she said out loud. There was no one to answer her. The tension she’d experienced earlier began to build again and she threw her hands up in defeat. “Fuck it.”
She wore her favorite leather pants and a slate gray T-shirt. On the way out the door, she picked up her wallet and grabbed her leather jacket from the hook. The minute she stepped onto the porch, her shoulders relaxed a bit, and she took the time to clear her muddled mind. Blaze trotted down the steps, then headed for the garage. She slid a leg over her bike, sighing as she pulled on her helmet. The weather was perfect for an evening ride. It would help her let go of the doubt she’d been stressing over. It wasn’t like her to feel sorry for herself, and she didn’t understand why she was letting questions of her future take up so much mental space.
On autopilot, Blaze made her way onto the hard-packed dirt road that led away from her house and down to the paved county route. She took the familiar curves at her usual pace; emotional turmoil wasn’t a reason for being careless. Without a clear destination, Blaze let the bike determine where she went. Before long, she found herself on the Northway, and nearing the town of Queensbury, known for its shopping outlets. Blaze wasn’t in the mood for browsing, but a good cup of coffee and a slice of homemade pie might help sweeten her mood. With her target location less than two miles away, she signaled for the next exit, and decelerated as she took the curve to the stop light. She was feeling a little better, glad to have gotten out of her own head.
The light turned green, and she eased open the throttle to start her left-hand turn. The screech of nearby brakes made her look over her shoulder just in time to see the red muscle car almost on top of her. She gunned the motor to get out of the way, but the grind of metal and the jarring impact felt like she’d run into a brick wall, ending her hope of escaping a collision. She let go of the handlebars and tried to launch herself toward a grassy area on her right, but her trajectory was wrong. The sky filled her vision as she fought to remember the collision rules she’d learned a long time ago. Something about going limp, rolling… She saw trees getting closer, then felt something snap when she slammed into a tree and then hit the ground, the air was stolen from her lungs before the darkness closed in.
* * *
Through a murky haze, like being deep underwater, Blaze was aware of discomfort in her chest. She went to swat it away, but strong hands held her down.
“Hey, can you hear me?” A male voice came from above her head.
She fought to focus. Her helmet was on and her visor open. “Yeah.” It was hardly more than a whisper and she tried again. “Yes.”
“Good. That’s good. What’s your name?”
She looked to her left. Someone had cut open the sleeve of her jacket. An IV line ran to bags of fluid held by another person. She looked to her right. Something about her arm was wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what. The guy above her tapped her sternum to get her attention. It worked.
“What’s your nam
e?” an EMT asked again.
“Blaze. Blaze Carter.”
“Blaze, you’ve been in an accident. We’re going to transport you to the hospital. Hang in there. We’re going to give you something for the pain before we move you.”
She wanted to tell him no drugs because she hated the way they made her feel, but it was too late as the cold medication ran up her arm and into her bloodstream. A cervical collar was put in place as her helmet was removed. It was as though she were watching everything happening from outside of her body. But when they slid a backboard under her and tightened the straps, she let out a groan.
“Almost done. You’re doing great, Blaze.” This time it was a female voice talking in her ear, reassuring her.
“Bike,” Blaze said, needing to focus on something else.
“Why is it riders always think about their bike?”
Another male voice from somewhere near her legs responded. “You can’t understand unless you ride.”
The woman gently tapped her left shoulder. “It might be repairable.”
She nodded and a hot poker of pain shot down her neck and through her right arm. She held her breath until it passed.
“Hey now. Not breathing isn’t allowed on my watch.”
Blaze took a breath. “Arm…right.”
“It’s the only injury we’ve found so far, but the hospital will do a thorough exam.”
She needed to know more, but the drugs made her feel disconnected and unable to form a complete thought. An oxygen mask was placed over her nose and mouth.
“There could be internal damage. You were tossed a long way from the scene.”
“Not tossed. Jumped,” she said into the mask. One of the EMTs lifted it up and she repeated herself.
“Why?” the woman asked as she took her blood pressure. The guy at her head moved the mask up to expose her mouth.
“Didn’t want to get trapped. Big bike.” Her eyelids felt like lead. She fought against the meds, the discomfort, the pain. She would not surrender her control.
“Smart. It probably saved your life.” Another guy snaked his hand inside her waistband. “I’m checking for a pulse in your legs. Sorry.” He pressed his fingers against her groin, first one side then the other. “Positive on both sides.” The sirens ended. “Okay. We’re here.” Machines were tossed onto the gurney with her as the back doors flew open.
“What have we got?”
She gave in to the fatigue, knowing soon enough she’d be handled by a whole medical team. Damn. They were going to cut off her leathers. Blaze tried to focus on the gurney moving down the hallway, but bright lights stabbed her eyes and she kept them closed. Curtains whisked along a track and the gurney stopped, and she was moved onto a stretcher. A person in scrubs and a mask leaned over her.
“Blaze, I’m Dr. Rhonda Gaines. There’s going to be a lot happening around you while we assess your injuries.”
“Mask off.” Blaze struggled to get the words out.
The mask rose above her face a few inches. “Again?”
“Mask off. Don’t need it.” She wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn the doctor pursed her lips.
“Somebody get her a cannula.” She studied Blaze. “Humor me.”
The mask didn’t return. Short plastic tubes in her nostrils took its place and the ends wound behind her ears. At least she could talk.
“Did you lose consciousness?” someone asked.
“Yeah.” She didn’t know why she’d blacked out, but it would be foolish to lie. “Not sure how long.”
A familiar voice from the ambulance spoke up. “Best estimate we have is less than five minutes. Witnesses said she was groaning shortly after she landed in the trees.”
“Okay. CT of her head, chest, and abdomen. I want an MRI of that arm, with and without contrast. Let’s keep her sedated while we work.”
She grabbed for the doctor with her working hand. “No. Hate the feeling.”
Dr. Gaines sighed. “Listen, tough guy, I run the show here. We’re going to be moving you around a lot and your arm is severely injured.” She patted Blaze’s hand. “Let’s work together. We’ll go with light sedation, but if you need more you tell someone. Got it?”
Compromise was something she could work with, so she agreed. She felt the medication kick in, but not as much as the first time. She was moving again. The lights, the voices. Everything at once and none of it made sense. As much as she didn’t want to, Blaze gave in. She was too exhausted to keep the bravado up. There was something in the words she’d heard that should have upset her, but she couldn’t quite make sense of it. She drifted off, oblivious to the chaos around her.
* * *
Annoying. That’s the first thought that came into Blaze’s head as she began to surface from her drug-induced sleep, hating not knowing how much time had passed and irritated by the rhythmic beeps too close to her ear. She tried to swat at whatever was poking her shoulder, but her arm was heavy and wouldn’t move. When she tightened her right bicep, pain shot up her neck and she groaned. She no longer felt the collar.
“Try not to move around, Ms. Carter. Okay?”
She didn’t recognize the soft, reassuring voice. She pushed through the thick layer of cotton in her head until she could open her eyes all the way. The first thing she noticed was wavy auburn hair, followed by expressive green eyes. The greenest she’d ever seen, and she was beautiful.
“Are you in pain?”
“Only when I move.” She tried to smile, but even the small movement stole what little comfort she’d been in. The woman came closer, placing a hand on her arm.
“I’m Trinity, one of the ED nurses. I’m going to give you something to help you relax.”
She started to protest.
“Ms. Carter, I know you don’t like pain medication. The doctor ordered a sedative to take the edge off because your body is already traumatized. You need to stay still and relax, and the medication will help you do that. Okay?”
Blaze needed to ask about her injuries and when Trinity approached with a syringe, she found her voice. “Before you give me that tell me about the damage.”
Trinity set the medication on the tray. “You’ve had blood work and scans. The orthopedic surgeon will be in to talk with you soon.” She adjusted her IV line, pushed the medication, and straightened Blaze’s pillow.
“I know my arm is broken, but why a surgeon? What’s wrong with it?”
Gaze diverted, Trinity avoided the question and Blaze’s unease grew. “I don’t have that answer. I’m not the doctor. I can only tell you the surgeon needs to discuss options with you.”
Blaze wanted to tell her she was well aware that nurses, especially those in emergency medicine, knew more than they were allowed to say, but when she tried to talk again she had no saliva, and she ended up licking at her lips with a dry tongue. “Water,” she croaked.
Trinity finally met her gaze. “I’m sorry. You can’t have anything, but I can wet your lips and tongue if you like.”
Blaze nodded, knowing she didn’t have much choice. She opened her mouth and Trinity gently swabbed her tongue, then her lips. The cool wet gave her a sense of being refreshed even if there hadn’t been enough for her to swallow. She watched Trinity’s face for some indication of what she wasn’t saying, but her professional mask was firmly in place. What she didn’t miss was the sorrow in her eyes and she understood whatever her injury, it wasn’t good.
Just then, a figure whipped through the curtains, trailed by another person with a clipboard. He moved up next to her as Trinity stepped back. “Ms. Carter, I’m Dr. Jonas, with ortho. We have a decision to make.”
“About my arm?”
“Yes.” He looked slightly annoyed. “I take it no one’s talked with you about the injury?”
“No, but I know it’s broken.” She’d guessed that the minute she came to, remembering the pain from a broken leg she had in high school when she’d been a bit too aggressive on the soccer field.
; His features softened. “It’s more than broken, though the break is clean, which is good. There’s a compound fracture and the bone has come through your forearm. I’m hopeful there’s not a lot of nerve damage, but we don’t know how affected your movement will be.”
Blaze felt her stomach lurch though it was empty. “No. It can’t be.” Her voice cracked.
“I know this must be upsetting, but from what the paramedics wrote, you landed with your arm under you, though we haven’t found any other injuries. It could have been much worse.” He gave her a small smile.
She didn’t want to cry. Not in front of people she didn’t know. “You don’t understand. I’m a carpenter. My arms…my hands…they’re my life.”
“I see. Then you need to listen closely because this is a decision only you can make. I need to go in and realign the bones, repair tendons and muscles if necessary, and close the wound. What I want to know is do I aim for function or strength during surgery?”
“Both.” She needed both. How was that a choice? She had to rely on her ability to be delicate with the wood when carving and the strength to mold it into any shape she desired. It would be the only acceptable outcome.
“That would be optimal, but when I get in there to assess the damage, I may have to choose one or the other, so I need to know your preference.”
Preference? They weren’t talking about a car color or a brand of running shoes. This was her fucking life. She gathered the inner fortitude she always relied on to get her through difficult times.
Blaze met his steady gaze, recognizing the intelligence in them, and she trusted what she saw there, knowing he’d do his best. “Function. If it’s an either/or choice, I want full use. If you can’t guarantee the strength part, I’ll work on getting stronger on my own.”
Dr. Jonas kept eye contact with her as she watched him weighing possible outcomes. “Right. So, this is my surgical nurse. She’s got consent forms for you to sign. I take it you’re right-handed?”
