Page 35 of SEAL's Surprise Daughter

By the time we got to the hospital, she was awake again. They wheeled us into the ER, and we sat in an exam room while the nurses and techs checked her vitals and hooked her up to more monitors to check her oxygen stats.

“What happened?” she asked me during a break in the action, her voice croaking like a bullfrog because of the smoke. “I remember climbing out the window and hugging you, then… nothing.”

I kissed her hand, then held it close. “You passed out. Probably from all the adrenaline and the shock.”

“The tavern?”

Her words cracked, and my heart broke. I swallowed hard, my own throat achy from the fire. “I… don’t know yet. There was a lot of smoke damage, and those flames were vicious. The fire department is still there, working, but I’m not sure what they’ll be able to save.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and it nearly gutted me. I wanted to make it all better for her but knew I couldn’t. “I’m glad you were there with me,” she said, low and rough. “You saved me, Gabe.”

Now my eyes stung. I wanted to tell her that she’d saved me too, but the words wouldn’t come. So I just shook my head, then leaned in to kiss her forehead, glad she was okay. We stayed like that for a while, until more nurses and techs came in to check on her.

“You need to get Savannah from my mom’s,” she said to me in between blood pressure checks and a quick blood draw. “I don’t want the baby left without us overnight.”

Much as I hated to leave her side, I agreed. The ER doc came in then, and I took that as my sign to go. “I’ll get Savannah, then, and be back shortly.”

TWENTY

They released me from the hospital the next day. Apparently, I’d inhaled more smoke than I’d realized when I’d panicked in the tavern kitchen. Thankfully, the doctors said there was no permanent damage done to my lungs, though I’d have to go in for regular rechecks for the next several months to be sure.

They’d bandaged up my hands where the window had cut them, but thankfully the wounds were superficial and didn’t even need stitches. They also didn’t cause issues taking care of Savannah, which was good too.

There was no way the tavern had survived that mess of a fire. I’d asked Gabe several times how bad it was, but he’d kind of blown me off in the hospital, giving me vague answers or suddenly needing to run to the bathroom or the vending machine.

Well, today I was going to see for myself. I had to. That bar was my life, my livelihood. And no matter what shape it was in, I needed to assess the damage and figure out a way forward. So, once I’d gotten the all-clear from the doctor and the nurses had unhooked me from the monitors, I got up and got dressed, then waited for Gabe to come pick me up.

He walked in a short time later, grinning widely. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” I said, giving him a quick kiss, then heading for the door. “I want to see the tavern.”

“Oh.” He stopped. “Uh, maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

I turned back in the doorway to look at him. “Doesn’t matter. I have to see it.”

“Ms. Rhodes,” a nurse said, appearing in front of me with a wheelchair, “have a seat and I’ll take you downstairs.”

I shook my head. “I don’t need that. I just had smoke inhalation. I’m fine.”

“Hospital policy,” the nurse said, not budging. “If you’re admitted, you get a ride in one of these down to the exit.”

“You’ve got no choice,” Gabe said, using the nurse’s arrival as another distraction to avoid what was clearly becoming a problem between us. He sidled out into the hall, then said over his shoulder as he headed for the elevators, “I’ll bring the car around.”

Grumbling, I plopped down into the wheelchair, feeling like an idiot. I was perfectly capable of walking myself out of this place. I was sure there were others who needed this thing more than me. Still, I didn’t want to be rude to the nurse, so I sighed and tried to make small talk with her as we rode down to the first floor.

“I’m so sorry to hear about Rhodes Tavern,” she said as we boarded the elevator. “My family and I used to go in there every Thursday night for the nacho special.”

“Thank you,” I said, forcing a smile I didn’t feel, my gut cramping with tension and loss. “I’m glad to know you enjoyed it.”

“Will you rebuild?” she asked as the elevator lurched into motion.

“That’s the plan,” I said, clutching my hands in my lap. I didn’t remember a lot from after I passed out, but I did remember Gabe telling me not to worry. That the fire department had notified my insurance company. Now all I had to do was wait for an adjuster to contact me so we could go through the damage and put in a claim. “It’ll probably take a few months,” I said, trying to sound more upbeat than I felt. “But I hope to reopen before too long.”

My optimism took a hit, though, once Gabe and I reached the site where Rhodes Tavern used to stand. It had taken some serious cajoling and a few heated glares, but I’d convinced him to bring me here. Now that I saw what little was left of my beloved bar, I felt the panic and fear from the night before rush back in nauseating waves. I realized I was gripping the dashboard so tightly my knuckles were white.

Gabe reached over and placed his hand atop mine. “We don’t have to do this now. Let me take you home.”

“No.” I pulled away and climbed out of the car. My knees shook, whether from the shock of seeing the carnage or from what I’d gone through the night before, it was hard to say. Leaning on the car at first, I made my way around to stand on the sidewalk. Lips numb, I mumbled, “I need to do this now.”

---