Rescuing Ryder (Serenity Securities, Team Hawk #1)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Claire pulled the manual out again and reread the instructions. The glass refused to close correctly after she cleaned the dust and debris off the gas fireplace. Finally, removing it completely, she flipped the switch to experience the first fire in her home. Nothing. She slapped her hand to her forehead and groaned, thinking the idea of being a homeowner had become the most stupid thing she had ever heard. At least when she rented, she picked up her phone and called someone, then voila!

Giving up, she poured herself a glass of wine and entered her study. Earlier, she dusted and polished the built-in bookshelves until they gleamed in the light. Taking out her razorblade knife, she cut the tape on the box and began organizing her books. She loved the classics; her parents bought her first editions for every holiday and birthday. With the books unloaded, she tore down the box for recycling and started on another. This one didn’t have a room assigned to it, which she thought odd, considering she packed everything. Shrugging her shoulders, Claire sat down and cut the tape. Flipping the lid back, she pulled out an envelope and ripped it open. Unfolding the paper inside, her heart pounded as she read it.

Your new home is lovely. Sleep tight, Claire. I’ll see you soon.

Her hand flew to her chest, and Claire rose from the chair as she determined which windows and doors remained open. Her pace quickened as she remembered the French doors and the windows upstairs. In full-blown panic, she struggled to recall what she instructed her patients to do in moments of crisis.

The air refused to enter her lungs as she raced to grab her purse and keys. Where did she last leave her cell phone? She left it in her bedroom. Claire scampered to the back of the house and snatched the phone from the bedside table. She fled to the front door and flung it open, thinking of staying at her office on the mountain.

Two large hands grabbed her by the shoulders, and she let out a blood-curdling scream.

“Claire! It’s only me,” a familiar voice reassured her as Ryder scanned the area behind her to discover the danger she fled from. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I can’t sleep and thought about you fixing the damn fireplace. I prepared myself to see fire engines and an ambulance,” he attempted to calm her.

Claire stepped out of his hold and shakily held her hand to her throat.

“I…I…decided to stay at the hospital tonight. You didn’t need to concern yourself,” she explained.

He remained in the doorway observing her. She must’ve appeared terrified as his gaze softened. “What’s the matter, Doc? Did the small-town noises get to you?” he asked quietly.

“Claire. I’m not Doc,” she absently corrected him as she attempted to regain control.

“Easy, Claire.” He lightly brushed her arm in a soothing gesture. “May I come in? You might want to tell the lady next door you’re fine because she’s leaning out her window with her phone in hand.”

She walked to the door and gave the elderly woman a slight wave before returning inside, shutting the door and locking it.

“I know this sounds like a cliché coming from me, but do you want to talk about it?” Ryder asked as he led her to the kitchen, searched the cabinets for a glass and filled it with water.

Claire adamantly shook her head. “No. I’m fine. Can you stay while I pack a bag?”

“You don’t appear or sound fine. Sit down and drink some water. If you want to go to the mountain, I’ll stay until you’re ready. What spooked you?” he asked quietly as he passed the drink to her.

“My imagination must be getting the best of me. Maybe it’s the wine I drank earlier. I thought someone might be inside my house,” Claire admitted to him as she used two hands to hold her glass steady.

Ryder’s head jerked up. “Damn it, Claire. Why didn’t you lead with that? Stay here.”

He disappeared around the corner and she bent her head to stave off the nausea. She gripped the glass and listened to his footsteps as he climbed the stairs and searched the upper floor. When he returned, she let out the breath she held.

Ryder searched her face. This appeared way more than thinking someone entered her house. He took in the pallor of her cheeks, the sheer terror in her eyes, and her shaking hands.

“No one’s inside. I cleared the rooms and secured all the doors and windows. Did you hear one of those atrocious purple shutters clang against your stomach medicine pink house?” he teased to make her relax.

She gripped the counter of the bar. “I must’ve overreacted. Thank you for checking it out for me. Did you need something?”

He chuckled. Her hair stood up in all directions and her eyes appeared larger than usual. She appeared scared shitless. Yet she still cared to ask about him. “Hey, Claire Bear. I came to make sure you didn’t set your house on fire. Since I can’t sleep and you’re clearly…awake, why don’t I fix the fireplace door you took off?”

She groaned. “I planned to put it back on. Unfortunately, it didn’t cooperate.”

“I don’t know about you, but I could handle some coffee if you got any. Where’s your toolbox?” Ryder asked.

Claire slid from the stool, opened a cabinet and put on a pot of coffee. “I put it in the living room.” She pulled two cups and set them by the brewer.

He retrieved the pink toolbox and returned it to her. Claire shook slightly and appeared pale as she stared at the dripping beverage.

Walking toward her, Ryder viewed her crossed arms and thoughtful expression. He poured a cup of brew, untangled her hands, and placed the mug in them. The warmth seemed to bring her back to the present.

“You don’t have to do this,” Claire murmured.

“I know. Aren’t you always encouraging people to accept help? Why don’t you come into the living room, drink your coffee, and keep me company while I figure out what havoc you created now?”

She slightly smiled as she followed him into the other room. Claire sat on her sofa as he knelt before the fireplace and tried to understand how she removed the glass.

“Why did you remove the glass?” Ryder asked.

“I wanted to see the fire. I cleaned the dust out and the dang thing refused to start. They told me I only needed to flip the switch.”

Ryder leaned over and turned the gas on before standing. “I think you might’ve missed a few steps.”

Claire slid from the sofa and peered into the fireplace to see how he readjusted the fake logs to sit straight in the box. A piece of dust she missed caught her attention, and she reached to grab it.

Ryder flipped the switch, and the fire instantly came to life startling Claire, who yelped as she jerked her hand away.

“Claire!”

Ryder moved to her and gently pulled her wrist toward him to examine the burn. A large, dark red welt formed as she sucked air in between her teeth. The singed smell of her sleeve drifted to his nose, throwing him back into the past.

The kid, Shortstack, lay on the ground, writhing in pain from the IED. Half his face appeared charred and his eye melted. His uniform stuck to his skin as Ryder did everything to try to save him. The kid held on to his vest until his dying breath. His eyes still showed the last fatal minutes of the terror he experienced. He lowered him to the ground and choked on the lump forming in his throat.

“Ryder, It’s Claire. We’re standing in my living room. I accidentally burned my hand and need your help. I can call Whiskey if you prefer. You’re safe with us on Serenity Mountain.”

Ryder heard her voice and followed it like a light in the dark. Her face appeared before him and he glanced down at the wrist he held.

“Let’s get some cool water on your burn.” He led her into the kitchen and adjusted the water temperature. When satisfied, he drew her hand into it, and she hissed.

“Hang on, Claire Bear. Where’s your first aid kit? Don’t tell me you don’t have one with your propensity for home dis-improvement.”

“In my bathroom,” Claire replied, concentrating on her hand.

Ryder made his way through her bedroom into the private bath. Silk stockings and lacy thongs clipped to a hanger hung over the shower. Pretty embroidered bras hung over the towel rack. His eyes widened as he thought of the doctor wearing the sexy lingerie before he knelt under the cabinet and pulled out a big plastic container labeled First Aid Kit. Opening it, Ryder laughed to himself as he noticed several different sizes of bandages, burn ointment, antibiotic ointment, scissors, gauze and ace wraps. Bigger than the average person’s supply, he imagined how many scrapes she got herself into repairing things.

Shaking his head, he picked out the items needed to bandage her hand.

After he wrapped her injury, they made their way into the living room. Claire smiled as Ryder flipped the switch, this time with the glass in place. The coffee grew cold, but they enjoyed the fire. She sat on the couch, and he took the recliner across from her.

“From the size of your first aid box, I take it you run into a few scrapes,” Ryder jested.

“Very funny. I’m always prepared. Why does it seem when you need a bandage, it’s always too small or overly large for the area?” Claire asked as she yawned and lay on the pillow.

“Ugh huh. Does it happen often? Or do you purchase the variety of sizes for all the items you injure yourself on when you attempt to put them together?” he teased.

“Thank you for all the help. I appreciate it,” she responded quietly.

“Honestly, You’re the first person to draw me out of my nightmare. I think we helped each other.”

When Claire didn’t reply, he glanced over to find her sleeping, unworried about the supposed intruder from earlier.

Ryder rose, took the light blanket draped along the back of the couch, and covered her. He walked back to the kitchen and wrote a note on the fridge. After checking all the locks on the windows and doors, he returned to her entryway, exited and locked the door behind him.

He pulled out of the driveway. “Sweet dreams, Claire,” Ryder murmured before putting the car in drive and heading toward the mountain.

For the first time, his body felt restless, and his thoughts consisted of the soft pink, lacy thong and matching bra set hanging in the bathroom. He pictured unrolling the thigh-high silk stockings down her legs. Ryder shook the idea from his head and laughed aloud. The last thing the mountain promised to bring him was serenity.