Читать книгу Mountains Apart - Carol Ross - Страница 10

CHAPTER TWO

BERING QUICKLY DIALED 911 and waited impatiently at Emily’s side for help to arrive. His cousin Tag was a paramedic and Bering knew he was on duty. The minutes seemed to crawl by until he finally heard a noise in the entryway. He yelled, “Tag, in here!”

“Emily?” a voice called from the next room. “What’s going on?”

Bering looked up to see Ms. Hollings’s assistant standing in the doorway, an insulated drink cup in each hand.

“What are you doing to her?” Amanda demanded.

Bering saw it through her eyes: a strange man crouched in front of her nearly naked boss, who didn’t appear to be moving at all. He hoped she wasn’t packing. It was not at all unusual for women he knew to carry a handgun with them at all times. He rushed to explain, “I’m... She—”

“What have you done to her? Get away from her, you freak!” Amanda shrieked. “I’m calling the police.” She plopped the cups down on the desktop and reached for the phone.

“An ambulance is already on the way,” Bering replied calmly. He gave Amanda time to absorb the scene, hoping she’d note that while Emily was only partially clothed, he was completely presentable. He reached out and placed two fingers on Emily’s neck, feeling for her pulse. Was it his imagination or did it seem kind of weak and thready?

He glanced at Amanda and met her worried eyes. Judging by the expression on her face, she was getting it.

“Oh,” Amanda said, dropping the phone back onto the desk. She sank to her knees next to Emily’s limp form. “What happened? What’s wrong with her?”

“I’m not sure.” He pinched Emily’s arm. “I think she might be dehydrated, though. Has she been sick?” Bering inched closer and was alarmed anew by how soft and shallow her breathing seemed.

Amanda began shaking her head. “No, not that I know of...I mean, she said she had a headache today. And she really hasn’t been herself lately, but she hasn’t been sick. Did she faint or something?”

Bering nodded, but never took his eyes off Emily. “She started acting really weird. She said she was hot and then she, uh, she began taking her clothes off, and then she passed out. It scared the heck out of me. I... Where in the world is Tag with that ambulance?” Bering put his fingers on Emily’s neck again, the weak, faint thud of her pulse causing his own heart to leap and then thump heavily in his chest.

“Oh, no!” Amanda cried suddenly, springing to her feet. She crossed over to the desk, and as she frantically searched through the messy pile, she let out an anguished groan.

“What is it?” Bering asked her.

“I gave her some pills earlier for her headache. But I told her to only take one or even a half to start with, but it looks like she took them all. They’re prescription and they’re really strong, and I don’t think she’s eaten anything all day. She hasn’t eaten much at all since we’ve been here, actually, and...” Amanda was rambling now as she rushed back toward Emily. “Like I said, she really hasn’t been herself. She’s been through so much and she...” Amanda broke off with a sob, dropped to her knees and grabbed one of Emily’s limp hands. “Emily, honey? Wake up, Em, please,” she pleaded. “Wake up.”

Bering heard the ambulance crew bust into the reception area. “Finally,” he muttered in relief and then shouted, “Tag, in here.” The paramedic team came charging through the door and Bering had never been so glad to see his cousin in his entire life.

* * *

“I FEEL SO SILLY,” Emily said much later as Amanda helped prop her up against two wonderfully fluffy down pillows. She’d awoken and oddly enough hadn’t been all that surprised to find herself in the hospital. She had vague and hazy recollections of an ambulance ride and voices coming from very far away. There were also remnants of vivid dreams swimming in her head, of strong hands running a cool cloth over her skin, and warm fingertips caressing her face and hair. But of course that was crazy. She’d obviously been delusional.

Amanda’s face split into a wide grin. She set the paper bag she’d been holding on the bed beside Emily. “I’m just glad that you’re going to be okay. What did the doctor tell you?”

Emily made a face. “That I was dehydrated, undernourished, exhausted, anemic and stressed-out, and on top of all that I was then, apparently, drugged.”

Amanda winced. “I’m so sorry about the pain pills, Em. I should have only given you one.”

“Amanda, clearly it wasn’t your fault. I was out of my mind. The doctor also said I am overall generally unhealthy.” She scrunched her face into a doubt-filled expression and asked, “Do you think I’m unhealthy?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes, honestly.”

Amanda began ticking things off on her fingers. “You don’t get enough sleep. You don’t get enough exercise. You work all the time. You never eat very well—I’ve been telling you that for years. So, yes, I’d say it doesn’t surprise me that the doctor says you’re unhealthy.”

Emily shrugged and said defensively, “I don’t have time.”

Amanda looked at her doubtfully. “You don’t have time?”

“To eat healthy and stuff.”

“You have just as much time to stop at Whole Foods in the morning as you do the bakery. You have just as much time to eat a banana or some oatmeal as you do an apple fritter. You have just as much time to walk through the salad bar at Trader Joe’s as you do the drive-through at Chicken Little.”

“I don’t like hummus,” Emily said with a curled lip. “Or wheat germ.”

“No one is suggesting you eat hummus, and I would be willing to bet you couldn’t identify a germ of wheat if your life depended on it.”

“That’s probably true,” Emily conceded with a grin. “But you know what I mean—I don’t like slimy, wheat-germy-type things.”

“Wheat germ isn’t slimy. But look, Emily,” Amanda said and then took a deep breath. “I know you don’t like to talk about this, but ever since the promotion-Jeremy thing, you haven’t been taking very good care of yourself at all—worse than normal. All you do is work. All you talk about is work.”

Emily folded her hands neatly in front of her. “Hmm,” she said thoughtfully. “Amanda, I know I’ve probably been awful to work for—”

“No, no,” Amanda said, “you are, and always have been, the best boss in the world.” She reached down, took Emily’s hand and squeezed it. “But right now I’m talking to you as your best friend. You need to pull yourself together. You need to start taking care of yourself and thinking about yourself first, before your job—before even your stepfather and your mother, and definitely before that worm Jeremy.”

Emily bobbed her head agreeably. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I’m going to. I will.”

“I’m sorry, Em, if I sound harsh, but you have no idea how worried I’ve been about you.”

Emily felt a surge of guilt well up within her. How selfish of her not to realize what Amanda had gone through, too.

“Oh, Amanda, I’m so sorry.” She reached over and enfolded Amanda’s hand in hers. “Yes, I promise I will get my act together. I will get better and healthy and eat raisins and vitamins and do yoga and become a hummus-eating vegan. And you know what? I’m thinking about starting my training for a triathlon the minute I get out of this hospital bed.”

Amanda let out a bark of laughter. “Let’s not get carried away here. It’s important not to set our expectations too high.”

“You’re right. I won’t, because I’m not eating any raisins. I’m not eating anything that looks like a dead bug. And I’m really not a strong swimmer, so that triathlon thing might be a tad unrealistic.”

“I’d settle for a brisk fifteen-or twenty-minute walk on the treadmill.” She let go of Emily’s hand and then reached into the brown paper sack sitting on the tray table and pulled something out. She placed it on a napkin and set it on Emily’s lap. “Here, try this. It’s one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten.”

Emily grimaced at it. It was some sort of biscuit covered with purplish-brown polka dots. “What is it? Wait, Amanda, is that a raisin?”

“Those are huckleberries. It’s a huckleberry scone. Just try it,” Amanda coaxed in a motherly tone. “Stop looking at it like that. I swear they aren’t raisins and there’s no wheat germ or anything healthy in it. I don’t even think it would fall into the ‘healthy’ category at all.”

Emily looked skeptical. “I’ll try it later, okay? I’m really not hungry right now. Now tell me exactly what happened after I passed out.”

Amanda ignored her attempt to change the subject. “Emily, you just told me you were going to do better. You promised. And the doctor says you have to eat if you’re going to get out of here today. And judging by your tray, you skipped breakfast.”

Emily crinkled her nose at the congealed cheese-and-smoked-salmon omelet and slimy canned fruit that lay untouched on the cart next to them. An apple fritter sounded good, or even a couple Oreos.

“Just try a bite,” Amanda encouraged.

“Fine, if it will make you happy.” Emily nibbled on the edge of the flaky biscuit and was immediately overwhelmed by its luscious texture. She took a real bite. Sweet, fluffy dough met tart berry in a delectable combination. Her stomach lurched painfully and then growled in anticipation of more. She took another bite and this time she savored it.

“That’s really good. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”

“You haffen’t” came the muffled reply as Amanda’s mouth was now also stuffed full of scone.

“What?” Emily answered. “I had that candy bar, let’s see, when was it? Yesterday morning? I guess it has been a while.”

Amanda shook her head and swallowed. “Nope, that was the day before yesterday. You’ve been asleep since Friday.”

“What?”

“Today is Sunday. You were out of it all day yesterday.”

Emily stared down at the scone in her hands and reeled over the fact that she’d lost almost two whole days out of her life and hadn’t even realized it. She thought hard for a moment. The last thing she remembered was a meeting with a Mr. James. She’d had a terrible headache, and she’d been really hot and...and he’d seemed angry with her—the memory of his deep voice reverberating in her brain made her cringe—and then she’d...

“I wouldn’t eat all of that if I were you,” that same voice suddenly called from the doorway. Emily shot a startled glance at Bering James as he strode into the room. She definitely remembered that voice. His hair was too long and rather unkempt, she thought, but he looked and smelled freshly showered, Emily decided as a few more steps delivered him right beside her bed. Her body tingled in memory of...what? Possibilities sent a shiver skittering uncomfortably across her skin.

It was just his close proximity making her feel overheated and self-conscious, she decided, pulling the sheet up to her chin. Bering ran one hand over his mouth and it looked to Emily as if he was smothering a chuckle. What was funny, she wondered irritably, and what in the world was he doing here?

“Your stomach might tell you it wants all of that,” he said, gesturing at the scone in her hands. “But if you eat that much, it might turn around and change its mind on you. It’s awfully rich.” He smiled at her, and Emily had the distinct feeling that he was going to reach out and touch her. But he didn’t.

“I’m glad to see you’re finally awake, Ms. Hollings. How are you feeling?”

“I, uh, I’m fine, I guess, Mr. James. Thank you so much for stopping by. If you want to talk to Amanda here, she can reschedule our meeting. I really have to apologize. I’m afraid I don’t remember most of our first one.”

“Emily,” Amanda began, “Bering hasn’t—”

“It’s okay, Amanda,” he said, cutting her off. “I would be happy to reschedule—but later. The doctor is going to be in to see you again in a few minutes. But first, here you go. Drink this.” He reached into a pouch on the side of the backpack he had slung over his shoulder and removed a plastic bottle filled with a thick liquid. He inserted a straw and placed it in her hands.

Emily held it up—it looked like a smoothie. She hadn’t had a smoothie in so long that the mere thought of it caused her mouth to water. But she had to ask, “It’s pink—please don’t tell me it’s some kind of liquefied salmon drink?”

“What?” Bering said with a surprised chuckle. “No, it’s peach.”

She took a sip from the straw and the taste of fresh peaches drenched her taste buds. “Mmm, oh, my goodness,” she said with a groan. “This is even better than the scone. It’s the best thing I’ve tasted since I’ve been here. Where did you get it? Because I know there is nothing even resembling a proper juice place in this town.”

Bering grinned at her. “I made it. And my mom made the scones, and I’ll be sure to tell her that you think my smoothie is better than her scones. The smoothie is very healthy. So drink it, and I’ll see you later.” With that he turned, his long strides carrying him swiftly from the room.

Emily gaped toward the door and then gaped at Amanda. “Amanda, what the...?”

Amanda patted her mouth with a napkin and Emily was struck with the notion that she was swallowing a chuckle, too.

Several minutes later, she decided that that was exactly what she’d been doing, as had Bering James. As Amanda filled her in on the details of the past couple days, she knew it wasn’t the richness of the scone that had her feeling nauseated. She pulled the cool sheet up to cover her now-flaming face.

Amanda seemed to be enjoying her mortification, however, and continued torturing her with more details.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she finally said, lowering the sheet enough to reveal her eyes. “I had some kind of psychotic break. I just haven’t been hungry since we’ve been here. All this seafood...” Emily scrunched up her face distastefully. Then she lowered her voice to a whisper and said, “I’ve got to get out of here, Amanda.”

“The doctor said he’s going to release you today. But you have to take it easy, get some rest and eat something. You need to get your strength back. You’ve got your first presentation in two days, but the town-council vote isn’t until the twenty-third, so that still gives us over a month to prepare.”

A month suddenly loomed before her like a giant and hulking mountain, and just the thought of trying to scale it was exhausting. She wished she could curl up and rest somewhere for a while, somewhere warm and preferably for the rest of her life.

“No, no, I mean I’ve got to get out of this place, this backwoods...frozen...wasteland.” Emily felt her lashes thicken with moisture. “I want to go home.” A single tear broke loose and trickled slowly down her cheek. “I hate it here, Amanda.”

“Emily, listen to me. You can’t quit now. We can do this. We can. We’ve faced worse. Remember that weird town in Northern California that everyone said was impossible? We did it, remember? And what about that ranching community in Texas? We had death threats there, but we won them over. Oh, and who could forget that little Molotov cocktail thrown through our window in Oklahoma? They almost burned down our house. Come on, Em, this place is going to be a cakewalk compared to some of the jobs we’ve been on.”

Amanda took a deep breath and continued, “I know you’ve been struggling and I know you haven’t wanted to talk about it, but I think you need to hear this. You need to be successful on this job, Em. It wasn’t right that Franklin promoted Jeremy over you, but you did the right thing by breaking up with him. The guy is a leech. He would never have gotten the job if it wasn’t for you, and now you need to show Franklin what a colossal mistake he has made. This is your opportunity to prove how valuable you are to this company. Without Jeremy here stealing your thunder, Franklin will have no choice but to see it. So, we’re going to do this, in your kick-butt efficient and effective Emily Hollings manner—just not at the expense of your health.”

Emily snuffled into a tissue and then wiped her eyes. Amanda was right. This was what she did—no one did this job as well as she did. She really didn’t know what it was about this place that had her so out of sorts. It was just so cold and isolated and wild and...intimidating. Kind of like Bering James, she decided. Yep, the man personified the place. She was suddenly struck by an image of him hovered over her and holding her hand. Oh, no...

“Amanda, was Bering James here at the hospital earlier?”

Amanda leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “He stayed here the entire time. I mean, he barely left your side until this morning. You came to really early and the doctor said you were going to be okay, so he went home to take a shower, and apparently whip up a little peach power drink, and hightailed it back here. He was gone for maybe an hour, tops.”

Emily’s cheeks grew warm again. She cooled them with the smoothie, holding the cup against one cheek and then the other. “I wonder why. I mean, why did he stay?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he was hoping for a repeat performance of your impromptu striptease?” Amanda teased.

“Very funny.”

“Emily, he was worried about you, obviously. And I was worried, too. And to tell you the truth, it was really a comfort having him here.”

“Ugh,” Emily bemoaned, “I can’t believe that that man saw me almost naked.”

“Don’t worry about it. He wasn’t the only one. But hey, between him and that cousin of his—I would let either one of them see me naked.”

“Cousin? What cousin?”

“Oh, man, Bering’s cousin is the paramedic that brought you in. And phew, talk about a hottie. I have half a mind to strip down later and fake passing out.” She tapped a finger thoughtfully against her pursed lips and then asked, “How do you fake a heart attack, I wonder? I should probably be wearing something lower-cut, right? Maybe instigate a little wardrobe malfunction?” She tugged down on the collar of her shirt. “Whaddya think? Would that be too much?”

“Amanda, be serious.” Emily winced. “So, there were actually two men that saw me in my, um, semi-dressed state, then?”

“No.”

“Thank goodness.” Emily breathed a sigh of relief and then realized that couldn’t be true. “But wait, you said—”

“It was more like six or seven if you count the doctor, the nurses, the ambulance driver and the other paramedic guys. The whole crew, they were all men—how weird is that?”

“Oh, Amanda, what am I going to do?”

“Quit worrying about it. I’m sure it’s routine for these guys. They see naked people all the time. They probably didn’t even notice, really....”

* * *

BERING COULDN’T GET Emily Hollings out of his head. He’d come home, returned several phone calls, attempted to catch up on some paperwork and then decided to take a quick nap before he went out to meet Tag for dinner. It was like the lost-puppy syndrome, he decided, as he stared up at the cedar-planked ceiling in his bedroom and thought it over.

Granted, it had only been a matter of hours since he’d left the hospital and he was tired and his brain was thoroughly scrambled. But sleep was out of the question—he could see that now—because Emily Hollings looked so much different than a puppy. But it wasn’t her partially clothed state that had him out of sorts, although he didn’t think he could ever get tired of looking at her....

There was a vulnerability about her that spoke to him. He was drawn in by it, and he couldn’t shake the sense that she needed help. What kind of help, he didn’t know, but for some inexplicable reason, he wanted to be the one to give it to her. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He obviously needed to get a grip. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off her.

But what was a woman like her doing working for Cam-Field Oil & Mineral anyway? She certainly didn’t seem like the kind of executive they would send to do a job like this. She didn’t seem as if she could handle the kind of intense pressure such a job would entail.

Although, to be fair, he hadn’t really met her under the best of circumstances. And according to her assistant, she really hadn’t been herself. And now that he thought about it, Amanda had mentioned that several times over the past two days. Now Bering couldn’t help but speculate as to what she meant. What was Emily Hollings really like? And he knew, even as his good sense warned him it was a bad idea, that he was going to find out.

* * *

BERING STROLLED INTO the Cozy Caribou an hour later and spotted Tag already sprawled out in a booth at the back of the restaurant. The Cozy Caribou was more than a restaurant; it was a family-oriented establishment and an unofficial gathering spot for the community. There were booths running along both sides of the wide building with tables scattered between. The place was essentially two sections divided in the middle—one part restaurant one part bar. Huge chunks of a spruce tree—cut, sanded and polished smooth, then formed into a U-shape—served as the divide between the restaurant and the bar.

A wide doorway complete with a set of antique saloon-style swinging doors led into the back, where alcohol was served. Stools carved from the same spruce trees were set into the floor around the bar, one side for diners and the other for drinkers. It was Tess’s rule that drinkers could dine but diners couldn’t drink. She was very strict about this and didn’t even allow drinkers to use the same door as diners.

“So, you finally came up for air, huh?” Tag asked as Bering slid into the seat across from him.

“Mmm,” Bering answered vaguely. He took a sip of the water that was already waiting for him.

“How’s the patient doing?”

“She’s going to be fine. Or she will be if she starts taking care of herself. But after talking to her assistant, I have my doubts about whether that’s going to happen.”

“Man, she’s sweet, huh? No wonder you were holed up in that hospital all weekend.”

He scowled. “Yes, she’s beautiful, but it’s not that. Something’s not right. Emily is—”

Tag flashed his cousin a quick grin. “I was talking about her assistant. Amanda, right?”

Bering nodded absently. Funny, he couldn’t really even recall whether Amanda was good-looking or not. And then he remembered that he’d definitely thought so on Friday before he’d met Emily.

“Do you know if she’s married or anything?” Tag asked.

“No, Amanda said she was involved with someone fairly recently, though. I got the impression that was part of the reason she was here.”

The waitress appeared and delivered two heavy frost-covered mugs of root beer. They placed their orders.

“To see him?” Tag asked.

“No, to get away from someone or something...” He shook his head. “She wasn’t really clear on that. She seemed a little uncomfortable talking about it.”

“Do you think she’d go out with me?”

Bering choked on his swig of root beer. “What? Tag,” he sputtered, “I don’t think that’d be a very good idea. I don’t even know if she’s out of the hospital yet.”

“Amanda was in the hospital, too? What, was it something contagious?”

“Funny,” he said with a chuckle, finally realizing what his cousin was up to.

Tag let out a booming laugh.

“I don’t know, though, Tag. Something is wrong. I’m worried about her. She’s, um... I want her...”

Tag’s smile disappeared along with his teasing tone. “You want her?”

Bering looked annoyed. “I want her to get well, Tag, is what I’m saying. She needs help.”

“Well, you’re definitely not the one to give it to her, Bering. You know that, right?”

“I do. I know that, but I can tell she’s having a really difficult time here. If you’d have seen her, and Amanda said—”

Tag interrupted, “Bering, I did see her, remember? I was the paramedic who treated her. The woman was dehydrated. She was drugged and exhausted. But what does that have to do with you?”

Bering shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. “Nothing, except that if you’d seen her in the hospital... There’s just something about her that I...”

“Bering, snap out of it, man. Need I remind you that this woman works for Cam-Field Oil & Mineral? You remember Cam-Field, right? The ‘corporation of environmental corruption,’ I believe I’ve heard you call it on more than one occasion. The fact that this woman is sad is not your fault, is not your responsibility and has nothing whatsoever to do with you.”

“Uh-huh,” Bering said absently.

Tag shook his head and said slowly, “Oh. No.”

“What?”

“You are asking for trouble here, Bering. Mark my words. Stay away from this woman.”

“Trouble, Tag? Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?”

Tag was frowning. “No, Bering, I don’t. It’s not your job to help her. And under the circumstances, I don’t even think you should go near her.”

Bering took another drink of his root beer and then plopped his mug down on the table. “Don’t worry, Tag, I know exactly what I’m doing.”