fingertips. “And I brought my own herbal tea.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Ivy grabbed the kettle off the stove and filled it with water.
“My trainer says it cleanses my system and supports my body’s natural defenses.” Noelle sat back in her chair and crossed her long, dancer’s legs, clearly settling in for the long haul. “But back to you and your mystery man.”
“There is no mystery man.” Ivy clanged the kettle back down on the stove and turned on the burner.
“Mom says otherwise. And her romance radar is never wrong. She called it with Holly and Nick. She even pegged Gabe and Devin, and no one saw that coming.”
“Well, she’s wrong this time.” Ivy picked up the remote for the thirteen-inch, flat-screen TV mounted under the cabinet by the sink. “Mind if I turn on the news? They’re doing a piece on the mayor’s new community parks initiative, and they’re going to use the head shot I took for her.”
She hit the power button and flicked to the local news channel, but instead of the mayor the screen showed a group of rescue workers huddled around a hole in what looked like the parking lot of the Bag ’n’ Feed. Then the screen flashed and the picture changed to a shot of one of the workers being carried off on a stretcher.
It was a worker in turnout gear with a familiar head of dirty blond hair, now matted to his forehead, and blue eyes, usually dancing with mischief, hard and flat with pain.
“Hey.” Noelle stood and came up behind Ivy for a closer look at the TV. “Isn’t that Cade? Turn up the volume.”
Ivy didn’t—couldn’t—move.
Noelle snatched the remote from her and pumped up the volume several levels.
“A seemingly innocuous rescue turned dangerous today at the Bag ’n’ Feed on East Main Street. Crews were working to free a kitten from a drainage pipe outside the store when a firefighter was struck by a drunk driver. Onlookers say the firefighter was injured when he pushed several bystanders out of the car’s path. No names have been released, but sources say both the driver and the firefighter were taken to St. Raphael’s Hospital for treatment. The cat was eventually freed and is recuperating at the Stockton Animal Clinic, which has already received a number of adoption requests.”
“Who cares about the cat?” Ivy screamed at the television. “What about Cade?”
“So that
was
him.” Noelle grabbed the cordless phone off the counter.
“What are you doing?” Ivy asked, her voice rising several notches to a pitch she was pretty sure only dogs could hear. How could her sister stay so calm with Cade hurt, maybe seriously?
“Calling the hospital. Hopefully they can tell us something about Cade’s condition.”
“Screw that. I’m going over there.” Ivy pushed past her sister, turned off the stove and hunted for her purse. Where had she left the damned thing? She could have sworn she’d seen it somewhere.
“Oh. My. God. Mom was right.” Noelle followed Ivy into the living room. “There is a guy. Cade.”
“We’re friends. That’s all.” Ivy found her bag behind the couch and fished out her keys.
“Give me a little credit, Ivy.” Noelle tossed the cordless phone onto the sofa. “You’ve had a thing for him since you were in diapers. Who could blame you for finally making your move?”
“Look, I don’t have time to argue with you about this now. Are you coming with me or not?”
“Oh, I’m coming with you, all right.” Noelle plucked Ivy’s keys out of her hand. “In fact, I’m driving.”
“Then we’re taking your car.” Ivy snatched the keys back and dropped them into her purse. “It’s faster.”
* * *
C ADE TURNED HIS head at the
whoosh
of his hospital room door. A nurse in pink scrubs strode through, followed by Cappy, Sykes and Hansen, still in their turnouts, their faces streaked with dirt and worry.
“Two minutes,” the nurse admonished them, hands on her hips for emphasis. “That’s it. He’s
“Why am I not surprised?” Ivy grabbed the kettle off the stove and filled it with water.
“My trainer says it cleanses my system and supports my body’s natural defenses.” Noelle sat back in her chair and crossed her long, dancer’s legs, clearly settling in for the long haul. “But back to you and your mystery man.”
“There is no mystery man.” Ivy clanged the kettle back down on the stove and turned on the burner.
“Mom says otherwise. And her romance radar is never wrong. She called it with Holly and Nick. She even pegged Gabe and Devin, and no one saw that coming.”
“Well, she’s wrong this time.” Ivy picked up the remote for the thirteen-inch, flat-screen TV mounted under the cabinet by the sink. “Mind if I turn on the news? They’re doing a piece on the mayor’s new community parks initiative, and they’re going to use the head shot I took for her.”
She hit the power button and flicked to the local news channel, but instead of the mayor the screen showed a group of rescue workers huddled around a hole in what looked like the parking lot of the Bag ’n’ Feed. Then the screen flashed and the picture changed to a shot of one of the workers being carried off on a stretcher.
It was a worker in turnout gear with a familiar head of dirty blond hair, now matted to his forehead, and blue eyes, usually dancing with mischief, hard and flat with pain.
“Hey.” Noelle stood and came up behind Ivy for a closer look at the TV. “Isn’t that Cade? Turn up the volume.”
Ivy didn’t—couldn’t—move.
Noelle snatched the remote from her and pumped up the volume several levels.
“A seemingly innocuous rescue turned dangerous today at the Bag ’n’ Feed on East Main Street. Crews were working to free a kitten from a drainage pipe outside the store when a firefighter was struck by a drunk driver. Onlookers say the firefighter was injured when he pushed several bystanders out of the car’s path. No names have been released, but sources say both the driver and the firefighter were taken to St. Raphael’s Hospital for treatment. The cat was eventually freed and is recuperating at the Stockton Animal Clinic, which has already received a number of adoption requests.”
“Who cares about the cat?” Ivy screamed at the television. “What about Cade?”
“So that
was
him.” Noelle grabbed the cordless phone off the counter.
“What are you doing?” Ivy asked, her voice rising several notches to a pitch she was pretty sure only dogs could hear. How could her sister stay so calm with Cade hurt, maybe seriously?
“Calling the hospital. Hopefully they can tell us something about Cade’s condition.”
“Screw that. I’m going over there.” Ivy pushed past her sister, turned off the stove and hunted for her purse. Where had she left the damned thing? She could have sworn she’d seen it somewhere.
“Oh. My. God. Mom was right.” Noelle followed Ivy into the living room. “There is a guy. Cade.”
“We’re friends. That’s all.” Ivy found her bag behind the couch and fished out her keys.
“Give me a little credit, Ivy.” Noelle tossed the cordless phone onto the sofa. “You’ve had a thing for him since you were in diapers. Who could blame you for finally making your move?”
“Look, I don’t have time to argue with you about this now. Are you coming with me or not?”
“Oh, I’m coming with you, all right.” Noelle plucked Ivy’s keys out of her hand. “In fact, I’m driving.”
“Then we’re taking your car.” Ivy snatched the keys back and dropped them into her purse. “It’s faster.”
* * *
C ADE TURNED HIS head at the
whoosh
of his hospital room door. A nurse in pink scrubs strode through, followed by Cappy, Sykes and Hansen, still in their turnouts, their faces streaked with dirt and worry.
“Two minutes,” the nurse admonished them, hands on her hips for emphasis. “That’s it. He’s
Similar Books
