Without another word to Denton, Harley rose from her chair and went directly toward Mitch’s office, not bothering to think about what her impulsive action could cost her. If he was angry in that instant, would he throw her out? She stood in his doorframe, heart pounding and giant lump in her throat, but as he looked up at her, he merely grinned.
“Louisville’s number one reporter!” he exclaimed, rising from his seat. “Wow, Harley, this is fantastic. Just great.”
“It is?” she muttered.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it since Kenny brought it in,” he expressed, setting the video to play.
Harley watched as her face appeared on the screen, standing next to the director of the shelter.
“As you probably know, every year there is a food drive and Thanksgiving meal given here at the shelter for those who have nowhere else to go for the holiday, and I’m here today with Doug as the program enters its seventeenth year with its most effective results to date.”
She observed as she asked Doug a couple questions about capacity and expectations, and then she appeared a little more sober. “Do you think people realize the importance of their actions in assisting with something like this?”
“Small statements are so important, Harley, which is why one little donation can turn into thousands, and one idea can start a movement.”
The picture changed to outside the shelter, with Harley sitting on the curb, her legs tucked underneath her as she sat next to the man with the full, graying beard. Instinctively she raised her hand to her lips as she watched the two of them on camera.
“Duke, do you remember when you told me that you don’t have to be important to make a difference?”
“Of course I do. When we had dinner together.”
“Sure. Sometimes I really need that reminder, you know?” Her likeness on the video brushed away a tear and glanced at the ground.
“We all do, I suspect. You make a difference to me, simply by caring. Just like the people here today are making a difference by donating their time or their food. It only takes a spark sometimes to shine a light so bright that it can’t be hidden.” The camera caught Duke looking at her like he was proud.
The shot faded, and Harley was back in front of the shelter, giving the speech she prepared before she walked inside. “Fellow citizens, it’s been a difficult year for many of us. For one person that might mean having suffered a loss, and for another that might mean falling on hard times. It might mean lost love, or dreams shattered, or hearts broken. We have a great deal to be thankful for, though: the breath in our lungs, the sun shining on this clear, cold day, and the huge heart of this city we live in for our neighbors and our friends. There is no greater example of this heart than what I am witnessing behind me here today, with so many turning out to volunteer their time simply to make sure that the less fortunate among us receive the same love and affection on Thanksgiving that most of us receive at home. My heart swells with pride to count myself one of you, and to think of you all as my friends as we meet here every day. Louisville, you have become my family, and today I’m your proud daughter, sister, and friend.”
Mitch stopped the video, and Harley simply stared at the frozen screen.
“That was outstanding. You cried with a homeless person, Harley. Simply breathtaking.” Standing to her feet, she didn’t say a word as she prepared to walk back out into the hall. “You’ve got the desk tomorrow, with Summer gone.”
“Yeah, I know,” was all she replied.
With the day firmly behind her, Harley headed out the door and to her BMW, ready to drive home and sit alone in her bedroom. Maybe she’d watch some old episodes of The Office—that always cheered her up. Or, she could call Annie and see what she was doing, but she probably had some family-related Thanksgiving obligations.
Unlocking her car, she glanced up at the windshield and saw a single red rose there on top of the wiper blade, a paper tucked beneath. Her fingers protested as she grabbed the half-frozen flower and jerked the paper loose, sliding into the driver’s seat and rubbing her hands together quickly to warm them. As she started the engine and set the defroster to high, she stared at the words written on the outside of the paper: Harley’s Song.
Immediately Ryan’s face popped into her thoughts, using that totally cute drumstick trick just to pull her closer and then winking. Reliving the memory made her entire body grow warm. Every time her phone rang at work she would feel a jolt of anticipation that he might have sought her out at last. When she stopped to put gas in her BMW, she watched the other patrons to see if one might look familiar. Even when she was sitting in traffic, she found her eyes darting around looking for the man who had captured her attention, but she hadn’t received even a glimpse since the night at Bonham Station.
He had the advantage, too, because he knew where to find her. She only knew that he occasionally worked at Tiny’s, and since he hadn’t even done that lately, she was lost in her attempts. Two subsequent trips to Bonham Station had left her searching, too, when she found no trace of him. She had nearly given up hope that he wanted to find her at all, but in her hand rested Harley’s Song. She could probably come up with a handful of people who would leave a rose on her car, but a song? Her heart told her it had to be Ryan.
She hesitantly unfolded the paper, looking down at the words.
Have you come down?
This angel above where I am now
I’m trying to breathe but forgot how
‘Cause I know now
Who you are
You’re the highlight
That radiates brightly in my life
So perfectly wrong that we’re so right
‘Cause you can’t hide
Who you are
So while you say that we’re worlds apart
I’m kneeling before you presenting my heart
Living without you feels too hard to start
Right now
Now that you’ve come down
So I send through
A prayer that I might prove enough to
Hold you as near as a tattoo
And be close to
Who you are
Holding her fingers over her mouth, she hastily scanned the parking lot searching for any sign of movement. It wasn’t signed; no indication of who wrote it, or phone number, or request to meet her somewhere. Simply the offer of a heart and a prayer, but enough to cause her to place her hands over her face and let the tears pour out in the station parking lot.
C hapter Ten
Working the desk on Thanksgiving wasn’t like working the desk on a regular day. First of all, she wasn’t sitting next to the handsome Denton Price, playing off his witty banter. Instead, she was sitting next to the very ordinary Bill Triplett, the elder sportscaster who always seemed to wear his suits a size too big and couldn’t tell a joke to save his life. Second, it was pretty much a given that no one would be watching the local news. They might tune in for a few moments to catch the weather, but everyone would either be stuffing their faces, catching a football game, or preparing for Black Friday shopping.
Still, Harley did her best to sell it, and then she settled for her Thanksgiving dinner of microwaved turkey pot pie that she picked up from a convenience store on her way home. The glamorous life of Harley Laine, eating gas station delicacies on a bath rug in her bedroom with the wires exposed in the wall, reading an old copy of Bridget Jones’s Diary. She decided her life must truly have been pathetic if she was slightly jealous of Bridget, grouching about her cigarettes and drinking too much alcohol as she shuffled around having “Uncle” Geoffrey grab her bum while she tried to peddle gherkins to the unsuspecting masses. So what if Mark Darcy had on a horribly tacky Christmas sweater and said she dressed like her mother? At least she knew where to find him.
The day after Thanksgiving Harley found herself exactly where she expected to be—reporting on Black Friday sales as though that were the most important topic in the universe. It was slightly wa
rmer than it had been the previous couple days, so she left her heavy down coat in the van while she spoke to shoppers, opting instead for a peach-hued blazer over her white button-down shirt and black pencil skirt.
They had already been to two shopping malls and were headed to a third shopping center when they heard sirens, and Harley ordered Kenny to follow the sounds to find out what was happening. In no time they pulled up to within a block of where a small warehouse was on fire, with firefighters pulling a man out of the building. Harley told Kenny to grab his camera quickly, as they were the first on the scene, and she began to rush into the fray.
“Miss Laine, I’m sorry but you’ve got to stop there,” a burly middle-aged firefighter instructed, putting his hand out so she couldn’t pass.
“Can you tell me what’s going on?” she asked, craning her neck.
“Some kind of mechanical fire, ma’am, but it’s not safe for you to go any closer.” Nodding her understanding, she turned to wait for Kenny, who was just beginning to make his way back from the van. A quick scan of the crowd told her that a couple people must have been in the building when the fire started, because there were several onlookers and the paramedics were already on the scene. The gentleman who had just been pulled from the building was sitting on the curb as a couple of the men dressed in blue paramedics’ uniforms huddled around him. In fact, one of the paramedics…
Startled, Harley broke loose of the fireman’s arm and ran a few steps toward the building, trying to get a better look at the men on that curb.
“Harley!” she heard Kenny yell, but she didn’t look in his direction. Lifting her head a little higher, she took a couple more steps.
A loud, booming explosion rocked the ground she was standing on, and almost knocked her to her knees. The sound must have caused her body to react in shock, because she had an unbelievable cramp running across her abdomen. Reaching over to clutch at her stomach, she pulled her fingers back when she felt something very unfamiliar hit her fingertips, noticing herself begin to shake.
“Harley!” Kenny yelled again, this time pulling up behind her and placing his hand on her back. “Please God, somebody help us! We need help over here!”
Daring to glance down, Harley saw the broken shard of metal protruding from just below her rib cage on the right side of her body, and before she had time to think about reacting the fireman who had ordered her away earlier scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her over to the ambulance.
“Can we get some medical here?” she heard him ask loudly as the material of his uniform shifted under her cheek. “Louisville’s sweetheart,” he said to her. “Why’d you have to go maiming yourself on my watch? I’ll be drummed out of town.”
There was a flurry of attention around her, enough that she couldn’t determine who was talking to her, where they were taking her, or even whose hands were touching her. By the time they had her in a reclining position and were shoving her into the back of an ambulance, she could see Kenny’s stricken face beside her, white and panicked.
“Harley…” he said as he was shoved back and a young man with skin the color of caramel stepped in beside her. She happened to glance down and saw that the wound was packed with gauze around the metal, which was still firmly in place. Closing her eyes, she told herself she would be all right.
God, please…
“Let me in there,” she heard, and she imagined Kenny fighting with the firemen, trying to get close to her. “What happened, Miguel?”
“Large puncture wound, but she’s stable. Getting ready to get fluids into her, and then some morphine.”
“Harley?” the voice continued, and she felt a warm hand enclose her own. “Baby, can you hear me?”
Forcing her eyes open, she glanced at her fingers and followed the hand that held them up a strong arm that disappeared under the blue paramedic uniform. When her eyes continued upward across his neck and to his chin with the little strip of dark facial hair that led up to his lips, she drew in a quick breath.
“Ouch,” she whispered, wincing. “Ryan?”
His hair was pulled into an elastic at the back of his head so it wasn’t hanging on the side of his face, but the blue eyes were the same. “I’m here, baby.”
Pulling her eyes away, she glanced at Miguel. “He must think I’m going to die.”
“Why’s that?” Miguel asked with a short laugh.
“Why else would he keep calling me baby?”
“You two know each other?” Miguel asked as he placed the needle for the IV in her arm.
“We’re old friends,” Harley offered with a slight smile as she looked up at Ryan again. “In fact, I do believe his heart aches for me, if I’m not mistaken.”
“That’s clearly the morphine talking,” Ryan interrupted, continuing to grasp her hand as his thumb brushed across her knuckles one by one.
“And…getting ready to administer the morphine,” Miguel said, shaking his head.
“Is the story that important to you, that you’d risk your neck?” Ryan continued, staring intently at her face. “They said you ignored their orders and went running towards the building.”
“It was an accident,” she muttered.
“You running was an accident.”
“Yes, I thought I saw someone.”
“You thought you saw someone,” he repeated again, his eyes locked on hers.
“Yeah, and I did, didn’t I? Because here you are.”
“Oh, man,” Miguel said as he continued to work to her left. “The lovely lady has impaled herself while looking for you, my friend. Lucky dog.”
“Why do I feel warm?” Harley wanted to know.
“The morphine’s kicking in,” Miguel answered simply.
“You were looking for me?” Ryan grasped her fingers tighter as he said the words.
“Hmm, yeah,” she breathed, beginning to relax a bit more. “I look for you everywhere. Tiny’s. Bonham Station. Even at the gas pump.”
“Why wouldn’t you just give me your number?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Did you come to the station Wednesday?” she responded, wincing again as Miguel adjusted her carefully.
“Wednesday?” He looked up as though he was giving it some thought. “Wednesday… I can’t seem to remember.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Could you tell what kind of damage it did internally?” Ryan wanted to know, looking at Miguel as he continued to rub her hand. “Stomach, intestines…”
“Don’t think it’s as deep as it looks, but can’t be positive about anything,” Miguel answered. “Hanging in there, Harley? We won’t be much longer.”
Suddenly, she laughed and squinted her eyes closed. “This is so embarrassing. Definitely not how I pictured our next meeting.”
Staring at the inside of her eyelids, she fought the urge to pry them open and gawk at Ryan. She had been thinking about him for so long, now that he was in her presence, she was having a hard time figuring out a proper reaction.
“How was our next meeting going to go?” Ryan asked. That caused Miguel to chuckle, and Harley focused on the feel of Ryan’s fingers against her own.
“I was definitely going to make you sing the song,” she said, opening her eyes and meeting Ryan’s boldly. “Will you sing me the song now?”
“No,” he answered quickly, peeking at Miguel.
“That’s a huge mistake,” she informed him. “What if I’m mortally wounded and you just refused my last request?”
“You’re not mortally wounded,” Ryan argued.
“And you don’t want to hear this guy sing,” Miguel added. “Dude’s tone deaf, big time.”
The vehicle came to a stop, the back doors were thrown open, and suddenly Harley was being hustled into the hospital.
“Ryan!” she called weakly, and he appeared to her right almost instantly, grasping her fingers again. “Don’t leave me.”
“I have to go,” he informed her sadly, concern crossing his featu
res. “They’ll take good care of you, and I’ll be back.”
“Promise?” she asked as he released her hand.
“Promise!” he called.
As soon as Harley arrived at the hospital, she was rushed in to inspect the damage, and surgery was performed to repair the muscle and close the wound. To her great relief, the impact hadn’t caused damage to any of her organs, so she was resting comfortably and under observation. The hospital gave her a very bland dinner and she watched a report about herself on the news. Thankfully, Kenny hadn’t had the camera going when she had her unfortunate incident, so that embarrassment wasn’t being spread far and wide.
“Our very own Harley Laine was injured in an attempt to bring you the first look at the warehouse fire and explosion today,” Summer stated. “We wish Harley the speediest of recoveries and await her return to the newsroom most anxiously.”
A large bouquet of fresh colorful blooms rested in the corner of her hospital room from the Channel Six staff, but it meant so much less to her than that half-wilted rose she had discovered partly frozen on her windshield that was at home in her bedroom.
Running towards the building was completely crazy, she realized, but that paramedic looked so much like Ryan that she couldn’t help herself. Her surprise at finding him in the ambulance with her hadn’t passed, and she was still in a state of disbelief. Nothing about him made sense. If he was a paramedic, why was he working at Tiny’s and living with his parents?
All kinds of wild thoughts went through her mind. Drinking problem, maybe? Gambling? Sold all his possessions because he wanted to be a rock star? Each presumption was a bit more preposterous than the last, and eventually she just gave up and focused blindly on the television, trying to numbly pass the few hours before time to sleep.
“Awake?” she heard from the doorway, and she glanced over to see the object of her most-likely misguided affection standing there with a brown paper bag and a huge smile on his face.
Crowned (Girls of Wonder Lane Book 2) Page 10
