Page 16 of Scorched Secrets

“Yes.” She nodded in case he couldn’t hear her. Without hesitation, he tossed the blanket over her head, then placed his arm around her waist, guiding her across the room and through the opening.

She walked with him for several feet before she heard Colin’s voice. “Thanks, Darrel. I can take it from here.” The blanket came off. She blinked, realizing she was standing near an ambulance.

“I’m going to place this oxygen mask over your face, okay?” A kind paramedic tugged the scrub top away to place a face mask over her nose and mouth. She thought about protesting but understood the medical treatment was appropriate and necessary. She needed to be a good patient and let these first responders do their job.

Despite the oxygen, she coughed and coughed, her lungs desperately trying to eliminate the smoke irritant. Her vision was still blurry, but she focused on Colin’s grim features hovering over her. It took a minute for her to register the fact that the paramedics had gently pushed her down onto a stretcher.

Her arm shot out to grab Colin. “Don’t take me to the hospital.”

“You need to get checked out.” He hunkered down beside her. “If our situation was reversed, and I was the one lying there, you’d make me go in.”

Yeah, she would, but this was different. “I just need to rest for a few minutes.” She coughed again, then added, “Oxygen is helping.”

“I’m sure it is.” He took her hands, scowling at the abrasions on her palms. He took a cleansing wipe and softly removed the bits of debris. He applied antibiotic ointment and loosely wrapped them in gauze. His thoughtful concern choked her up. Never in their short marriage had Rory been so sweet and kind.

She took in a deep breath, pulling herself together with an effort. She wasn’t hurt badly, at least from a physical perspective. Her lungs would heal in time. Emotionally, the fear of burning to death hadn’t faded.

“Did you see who did this?” She sounded as if she’d smoked an entire carton of cigarettes. And her throat felt like it too.

“A figure in black took off on a motor scooter.” Colin shook his head. “I only caught a partial plate and asked Mitch to run it for us. I haven’t heard back yet.”

“How?” She caught his hand. “How were we found?”

“I don’t know, Faye.” His gaze was troubled. “Maybe we were followed to the homestead. Maybe our alarm system was enough to keep them from attempting to breach the house.”

Horrifying to imagine the damage that could have been done to the Finnegan homestead, or worse, to its occupants. She closed her eyes on a wave of despair.

She needed to find someplace to stay. Not at her father’s house, or with the Finnegans. Not now.

No one was safe around her. No one.

Colin’s relief over getting Faye out of danger was short-lived. Her questions were dead-on. He wasn’t a cop like his siblings, but he’d watched for a tail.

Obviously, he hadn’t done a good enough job of evading the arsonist. And really, looking back, he should have taken more time at the scene of her house fire. He knew full well many firebugs liked to stay close to watch their handiwork. It was all part of the fascination with the dancing dragon, the term many used to describe fire.

The close call with Faye had brought him to his knees. He’d mistakenly assumed the arsonist had just wanted to make things difficult for her.

Now he knew the ultimate goal was to kill her. Not with a bullet, but with fire.

“We should take her to the ER,” the paramedic said in a low voice.

“ED,” he absently corrected. “We can try, but she made it clear she doesn’t want to go.”

“I’m fine.” Faye’s voice was stronger now, and her coughing had subsided a bit. “Please give me a few more minutes.”

“You’ll need to sign a waiver if you refuse to be transported to the hospital,” the paramedic warned.

“That’s fine. The only treatment for smoke inhalation is oxygen. I didn’t breathe in enough smoke to need anything more complex, like hyperbaric treatments.”

Colin raised a brow. “Hyperbaric treatments?” That was knowledge outside his paramedic training. “What does that entail?”

She waved a gauzy hand. “Never mind. It’s complicated. Just know I’m not that bad, I’ll recover without a problem. Thankfully, being near the grate opening helped. And I covered my nose and mouth too.”

He tended to agree with her assessment. He’d rescued victims who had looked far worse. Hard to argue with her medical knowledge, too, although he knew full well that doctors and nurses made the worst patients.

“Fine with me.” The paramedic shrugged and tapped on a computer tablet. Everything was computerized these days, so he pulled up the form electronically and thrust the tablet toward her. “Sign here.”

Faye sat up on the gurney to take it. She blinked, her eyes red and irritated, and used the tip of her finger to sign. Then she removed the face mask and looked at him. “I’m ready to go.”

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