Page 5 of Finding His Fire

A blood pressure cuff was placed on her arm while the other attendant listened to her lungs, asking her to breathe in and out slowly, so she didn't make herself cough.

Unable to look away, he watched her as she complied with every request they made of her. Breathe in and out. Look up. Show me where you hit your head. On and on and without a peep of complaint.

"Meg, do you want me to call Delaney or Cord?"

She shook her head no, the mask still covering her mouth.

"You sure? They'll be pissed if they find out you didn't call. Cord, especially."

She shook her head again, and Ford wondered who Delaney and Cord were. No mention of them in her file.

The two attendants then turned to him. "You all right, mister?"

He nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."

"You have blood on your arm. I'd like to take a look at it, if you don't mind."

Glancing down at the blood that had dribbled down his forearm, his brow furrowed. He hadn't noticed that at all; he'd been so wrapped up in Megan.

Nodding at the attendant, he held his arm out and only winced once when he applied something to the cut that stung, then quickly bandaged it. "Not too deep but keep it clean and covered for a couple of days."

"Thanks."

Glancing back to Megan, she'd sat up and watched as they bandaged his arm.

"Megan? You want to go to the hospital for a checkup?"

"No." Clearing her throat, she looked at the attendant. "Thanks, Jason. Tell Susannah I said hello."

"Will do, Meg. You make sure you call Cord, so I don't get an ass chewing next time he comes home."

That made her smile. "I'll call him; now, go on home."

The two attendants packed up their supplies and spoke to one of the firefighters and a cop before they took off. As the ambulance pulled away, the look on Megan's face was pitiful indeed. She looked at her house across the street, now soot-stained and blackened, water still raining in through the windows in the kitchen on both sides from the firemen’s hoses.

The tear stains were difficult to hide as they cleaned a trail down her soot-dirtied cheeks. She swallowed hard as she smudged the dampness from her face, seemingly trying to comprehend what had just happened.

And, dammit, his heart hurt for her. Kneeling down next to her, he swiped her hair back from her cheek, enjoying the softness of it between his fingers. "Where can I take you tonight? Do you have a place to stay?"

Turning her head to him, her brows furrowed for a moment, then she frowned. "I guess I can call my friend, Jolie, and see if she can let me sleep on her sofa tonight."

He pulled his phone from his back pocket and handed it to her. "Give her a call, and I'll take you there."

"I need to get some things from inside."

He shook his head. "You won't be allowed inside tonight, Megan. They need to put the fire out, and then they'll need to do an investigation to see what started it. Did you hear anything prior to the explosion?"

Her brows furrowed slightly as she tried remembering. "I heard clicking or tapping, like something small fell and bounced on the floor. I was going in to investigate what that sound was, but the explosion happened and threw me back into the living room."

"Okay." He squeezed her shoulder. "They'll figure it out. Give your friend a call."

He stood to give her some privacy, but she stopped him. "Where are you going?" She almost sounded panicked.

"Nowhere, hon. I'll be right here." His heart thudded in his chest as he watched her—spoke to her. She truly seemed like a woman caught up in the middle of something she had no part in creating.

Nodding, she swiped the screen on his phone, saw that it needed a password and held it out to him with a small trembling smile.

He touched his forefinger to the button on the bottom, and it opened up. He watched her shaky fingers dial her friend's number and then swallow before putting the phone to her ear. Her lips quivered as she said, "Jolie." Voice cracking, she swallowed again, gaining her composure. "My house burned down. Can I stay at your house tonight?"

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