• • •
SOMETHING WAS DIFFERENT about Brady. Jenna could tell as soon as she entered his hospital room. She put her things down and stood at the side of his bed.
“Brady, it’s me. I’m back.” A quick pause and she searched his face, his arms, his bandaged right leg. Looking for any sign of movement. There was none. “Brady, it’s Jenna.” She studied his still handsome face. “If you can hear me, move your fingers. Open your eyes.”
There was a sound at the door and Jenna turned. A man wearing an Oklahoma City Fire Department shirt stood there. Clearly another firefighter. He stepped inside, hesitant. “Hi.” His eyes moved to Brady and then back to Jenna. “I’m Eric.” He walked in and shook her hand. “Eric Munez. I work with Brady.”
Jenna introduced herself. She paused. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.” She could sense that much.
“He didn’t . . . mention you.” Eric looked like he felt bad making the admission.
She wouldn’t have expected Brady to talk about her to his work friends. He hadn’t seen her since they were seventeen. The fact that he’d written her a letter every April 19 and left it at the memorial was far more than she’d ever imagined.
She took one of the chairs near Brady’s bed and motioned for Eric to take the other. “It’s a long story.”
He seemed willing to listen, so for the next ten minutes she told him about meeting Brady and how the impact of that single day had remained. For both of them. “When I heard he was here”—she looked at Brady. He still hadn’t moved—“I had to come.”
“Wow.” Eric leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Brady never talked about it.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t marry?” Jenna had visited Brady’s Facebook page, but there was no relationship status listed.
“No.” Eric took a deep breath and stood. He walked to the side of Brady’s bed and stared at his friend. “Never married. Barely dates.” Eric looked back at Jenna. “His whole life’s his work.”
Jenna knew Brady’s injuries were caused by the fire. But she didn’t know more than that. “Do you know how he got hurt?”
“Yeah.” Eric nodded. His eyes grew distant. “I was on the roof with him. At the edge.” He clenched his jaw and exhaled. “He took the middle . . . the most dangerous spot . . . so I wouldn’t.” His eyes met hers again. “I have a family. He doesn’t. If something happened he wanted it to happen to him.”
Her heart melted. “That’s the Brady I met years ago.”
“He shouldn’t be here. Falling through a roof like that, he never should’ve made it.” Eric turned and leaned against the bed rail, facing Jenna. “God has a plan for Brady. That’s what I keep telling him.”
“He must.” Jenna looked at Brady. “His doctor keeps saying it’s a miracle he’s still here.”
“I begged God for his life.” Eric sighed. “Brady’s a hero. Heroes shouldn’t die fighting fires.”
“All firefighters are heroes.” Jenna believed that.
Eric nodded. “Brady’s different.” He told her how Brady served Oklahoma City a dozen ways. At least. The downtown mission, the children’s hospital, whenever there’s a project benefiting just about anyone. “Brady’s there.”
Jenna was about to ask if Brady believed in God, whether that was part of his motivation to help others. But before she could find the words, there was a stirring in the bed.
Jenna was on her feet. Eric turned and watched Brady. He was lifting his fingers. Just the slightest wiggle, but still it was something.
“Brady . . . hey, man, can you hear me?” Eric took hold of Brady’s hand. “You’re crazy, Bradshaw. You never shoulda gone that far out to the middle.”
The slightest groan came from Brady. Jenna walked to the other side of the bed and waited. She didn’t want to confuse him. And since Eric’s was a voice he was familiar with, she kept quiet.
Another moan came from Brady’s lips. This time Jenna watched him squeeze Eric’s hand, just enough for them to know. He could actually hear Eric’s voice. Over the next hour neither of them left the side of his bed.
Brady’s doctor came in, checked his vitals and confirmed the obvious. He was waking up. “Take it slowly.” The doctor nodded at both of them. “He’ll want to hear your voices, but he’ll be very tired. I’ll come by every few minutes to check on him.”
Again Jenna didn’t want to say anything. He wouldn’t know my voice if I was the only one in the room, she thought. Now that he was stirring she wondered why she was even here. The shock of seeing her might be too much. If she’d been alone with him, maybe. But for now she would wait.
Another hour passed and Brady seemed to grow agitated. He was trying to open his eyes, trying to form words. At least it seemed that way. Finally, just as Eric was getting ready to leave, Brady spoke. “Wh . . . where?” His voice was a raspy whisper. But the word was clear.
“Brady.” Eric bent over the bed, their faces close. “You’re at the hospital.” Tears filled Eric’s eyes. He was a tough-looking firefighter, built like a tank. But here he was just a guy pulling for his friend. “Can you hear me?”
This time Brady nodded. The motion was clear and undeniable. “Wha . . . happened?”
Jenna stood a few feet away. Tears filled her own eyes. This was the answer she’d prayed for. However long the journey ahead, at least Brady understood what his buddy was saying.
Eric clearly didn’t want to tell Brady too much. He wiped his tears, his voice strong. “You’re okay, man. You’re going to get through this.”
The effort of trying to talk must’ve been too much because Brady fell asleep again. It was just after two o’clock. Eric had to leave, but he gave Jenna his number. “Call me if he wakes up more than this. I want to be here.”
She nodded and thanked Eric. Thanks to him she now knew more about the years she’d missed with Brady. She sat by his bed and pulled up the photo Ashley Blake had sent her. The one with his letter.
God, I don’t know what You’re doing. But I can feel it. Please . . . give Brady a miracle. Give us both one.
Exhaustion came over her. Sitting here watching Brady was taking its toll. Wondering what he’d say when he woke up again, or if he would wake up at all. Jenna was about to leave, head back to Allison’s house for a nap, when Brady started moaning again. He turned his head a few inches in each direction, clearly agitated.
No one else was in the room, so Jenna took hold of his hand.
A rush of memories came over her, the way his hand had felt eleven years earlier. His skin was rougher now. Firefighter hands. But they were as warm as they’d been that far-off spring day.
Jenna stared at him. Should she speak to him? Now that he was coming to? She held her breath and decided she had to say something. Brady wanted to find her. It mattered to him. Maybe it would give him a reason to fully wake up if he knew she was here. “Brady . . .” She could feel her heartbeat in the hollow of her neck. “Brady, it’s me. Jenna.”
His restlessness suddenly stopped. He went still and then just as quickly he began to move again. And this time, finally, his eyes blinked open. Not all the way, but enough to squint at her. He turned his face in her direction and blinked a few more times.
“Jenna.” Her name on his lips was unmistakable. “H-how?”
Every word took all his energy. Jenna could see that. Tears blurred her eyes. “Brady, I’m here. I found you.”
His eyes closed again, but he knew. She was absolutely sure he knew. Not because he was able to look at her or say her name. But because of the way he squeezed her hand and ran his thumb along her finger.
Just like he’d done more than a decade ago.
17
B rady had been awake for two weeks.
He was still in the hospital, but earlier today they had moved him to rehab, four miles away and closer to his fire station. Though he had some swelling in his brain, miraculously he had no permanent damage. So it was time for him to get serious about his
recovery, his doctor told him. Brady was all for that.
He had a reason to live now.
Jenna was helping him get set up in his new room. Eric came by every few days, and the Fishers, too. Cards and balloons from his other firefighter friends lined the shelf in the corner of the small space. A window spanned the area adjacent to his bed, and a television hung on the opposite wall. The place was very much like a hospital room, except instead of heart monitors and IV stands there were exercise machines. Pulleys for stretching and pushing and teaching Brady how to move again.
Brady watched Jenna, the way she moved, the efficient way she had of putting his things in their proper place. Everything about her was familiar. Not because they’d spent so much time together, but because he had memorized every detail about the hours they had shared.
He would never forget them.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping.” She smiled over her shoulder at him. “The doctor said, remember?” For a moment she studied the room. Then she took the chair by his bed. “You’ll need your strength.”
I need you, he wanted to say. But he kept his thoughts to himself. He didn’t want to scare her. He leaned back into the pillow. “I’m not tired.”
She took hold of the arms of the chair and watched him. “The doctors forgot they were dealing with Superman.”
“Exactly.” He laughed and winced at the same time. Any movement of his chest still hurt. He began to cough and with the energy it used to take to finish a two-hour workout, he pushed himself higher up in the bed. When he’d caught his breath he used the button on the side of his bed to move to a sitting position. “Okay.” He gasped. “Sorry.” He steadied himself, refusing another wave of coughs. “Maybe not Superman.”
A smile lifted the corners of her lips. A seriousness came over her. “You are to the people in that retirement home.” She stood and came closer, poured him a fresh cup of water and handed it to him. “Eric says the whole place would’ve burned down if you hadn’t held the hose on the middle for so long.”
“I don’t know.” Brady closed his eyes for a long moment. He was more tired than he wanted to admit. Again he looked at her. “Better me than him.”
“He said you’d say that.” She angled her head, studying him. “You need anything?”
There were a hundred ways he could answer her. But he only smiled and shook his head. “I’m okay.”
“You need more water.”
“True.” He swigged back half of it and then looked at her again. “Thank you, Jenna.” Her name on his lips still was more than he could believe. “You don’t have to stay.”
“I’ll leave soon. I’m in town because I pulled together photos of my parents for the memorial. Photos and a few personal items. I’d never done that before.”
“Oh.” He felt the slightest disappointment. She wasn’t here for him, after all. “Glad you did. That’s important.”
“Right now, what’s important is you.” She leaned toward him, her eyes dark with worry. “We need to get you walking.”
Brady stared at her. He couldn’t talk. Couldn’t do anything but look at her. Not because of his injuries, but because he felt like he was caught up in some beautiful dream. Her being beside him, the two of them so close like this . . . none of it made sense.
“You’re really here?” He held out his hand. She looked the same as when she was seventeen, but more beautiful. She had a confidence that hadn’t been there before. “I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”
She slid her fingers between his. “I’m here, Brady.”
He was still on medication for pain, and his mind wasn’t fully clear. Details about the accident were gone, probably forever. The swelling in his brain meant that some days he still struggled to remember his address. But even if he were completely recovered it would be difficult to comprehend that a stranger named Ashley Baxter Blake had actually found Jenna.
And even harder still to believe was the fact that Jenna had come to him. That she had stayed these last few weeks. He’d had surgery on his legs and now both of them had been fitted with metal rods. His spine had been fused to help his back heal and he’d had a skin graft operation for his right calf.
But she was here. That was all that mattered.
His doctor had said there was no telling how well he’d walk or if he’d walk. Firefighting was almost certainly out of the question. Brady didn’t believe a word of it.
Jenna had found him. Anything was possible.
“You’re a miracle.” She released his hand and took a step back, toward the door. “You look so much better than you did. Even a week ago.”
He couldn’t stop watching her, couldn’t stop staring into her eyes. “You texted Ashley, right?” Sometimes he felt like he was repeating himself. But he tried not to let that bother him. This part was critical. Ashley needed to know. “You told her I’m okay?”
“I did.” She leaned forward. There was no end to the concern in her eyes. “You want something?”
“The last eleven years back.” He smiled and forced himself to relax against the bed again. “But no food. Thanks.” He checked the clock on the wall. “You leaving?”
“In a bit. I told Allison I’d make dinner.” She hesitated. “I’ll get a cup of coffee and come right back. At least for an hour or so.” She moved closer to the door. “We still have a lot to catch up on.”
“I like it.” He watched her go. Their conversations had been in fits and starts. When they weren’t being interrupted by a doctor or a therapist or a nurse drawing blood, he’d been sleeping. But every day he was a little more awake, more able to carry on a conversation.
Brady closed his eyes. No one had thought he’d live through the trauma. But here he was. Coughing every few minutes, still working to clear his lungs, still fighting to prove the doctors wrong. Now that he’d lived, they were worried about his future.
Not Brady. He was sure he’d beat the pneumonia and walk again. Convinced he’d fight fires once more and live the way he’d done before the accident. The only thing that worried him was losing Jenna.
He’d gotten the basics about her last eleven years. She’d finished college and moved to Columbus to teach. There she’d met and married some jerk named Dan who walked out on her. Brady clenched his jaw.
If only he’d found her years ago. He opened his eyes and stared out the window. Or if he’d run into Ashley Blake sooner. Outside the sky was cloudy. Rain hit the window and ran down toward the world below. How could any guy walk away from Jenna?
She returned with a coffee and sat in the chair near him. This time they talked about Jenna’s school, the kids she taught and how much she loved it. “I’m connected. I have my friends and my church.” She slid the chair closer to his bed. “My students. Life is good.”
Brady listened, taking in every word. This wasn’t the first time she’d talked about loving her life in Ohio. Her work and her church. Brady felt a piercing fear. The old Jenna had loved Oklahoma. She didn’t believe in God and she hadn’t had her heart broken by a guy. Was Jenna too different now? He didn’t dare think about the possibility. Back then they’d had everything in common. Now he wasn’t sure.
Best not to think about it. He could fall through the roof of a burning building and survive near death on a dozen different levels. But if all this was only leading to another terrible goodbye, Brady wasn’t sure he could stand it. He took another sip of water. “Did you ever think about making a life here?” The question had come before, Brady was pretty sure. But he couldn’t remember her answer. And he had to know.
“I didn’t.” Her reply came as quickly as the sadness that filled her eyes. “I couldn’t . . . you know, drive by the memorial every day. Hear about the bombing every April.” She shook her head. “I needed a life away from this.”
He nodded. “I guess for me . . . it was too late for that. It already defined me. What happened that day.” He paused. “It still does.”
“I get that.”
An old
er nurse came in then. “You need to sleep, Mr. Bradshaw. Your first rehab is in two hours.”
“I’m not tired.” He grinned at the woman.
She cast a wary look at Jenna and back at Brady. “I see that.” Patience didn’t seem to be her strong suit. “Either way, I need you to sleep.”
Jenna took the hint. As soon as the woman was gone she stood and reached for Brady’s hand once more. “Work hard this afternoon.” She smiled, her eyes locked on his for a long few seconds. “I’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He savored the warmth of her touch. If only he could freeze time, hold on to this moment forever. “Thanks again. For being here.”
She smiled at him. “I’m glad I found you.”
He grinned. “You did actually talk to Ashley Blake, right? She’s not an angel?”
Jenna laughed, and the sound filled the room like the most beautiful song. “Yes. I texted her. She and her husband are praying for you.”
“Well, then.” He was procrastinating; doing everything he could to keep Jenna beside him a minute longer. “You better go.”
“I better.” Her eyes sparkled. He had the feeling she didn’t want to leave, either.
He sighed. “Bye, Jenna.”
“Bye, Brady.” She released his fingers, took her bag and headed for the door.
With everything in him, he wanted to get out of bed, take her in his arms and ask if she felt the same way he did. He certainly hated seeing her go. But the nurse was right. Rest was the only way he’d be able to work hard enough to walk again. And he had to walk again.
So he could do the other thing he’d forever wanted to do.
Take Jenna Phillips on a date.
18
A s May became June, Jenna could feel herself falling. Her summer in Oklahoma City was like something from a movie. The sound of Brady’s voice, the way she felt when he watched her. Some afternoons she could barely breathe for the effect he had on her.
Her new life had taken on a different kind of routine. When she wasn’t with Brady, she and Allison would share breakfast on the weekends and sometimes they’d work in Allison’s garden or take a trip to the library. Other times they’d sit at the neighborhood pool and talk. But only when Brady was busy.
To the Moon and Back Page 17
