Henley by Stacy Eaton

Author:Stacy Eaton [Eaton, Stacy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Henley

I was never bothered by blood. Typically, I was calm, cool, and collected, but I felt suddenly anxious and didn’t particularly understand why.

Was it because it was my fault that she had gotten struck? Had I not invited her here, she would have been lying on her own couch recovering. Of course, if I hadn’t asked her here, she wouldn’t have Charlotte and Wes as clients either.

Roxy leaned back on the bed after I fluffed a few pillows against the headboard, and she stretched her legs out after Wes put another towel under her thigh to catch the blood that was trickling down from the wound. I saw her wince as he stuck a needle into her leg to numb the area, and I took her hand.

She leaned her head back, her face stoic, her eyes closed. I went back to watching Wes work, making sure he was doing everything correctly. I noticed Roxy swivel her head and lifted my gaze to find her staring at the opposite side of the room.

Her gaze came back to mine. “This is your room?”

I grinned. “It is.”

“Nice poster,” she commented with a chuckle.

Wes glanced at her. “You should see the ones that Hunt has in his room. His one wall is covered with all kinds of sexy firewomen; of course, none of them are actually firefighters, just models.”

Roxy turned to look back at the large poster on my wall. While the look on the woman’s face was seductive, she was dressed in a tank top, bunker pants, and boots. A little bit of soot marred her cheek, and a strand of hair fell alongside her face from a ponytail. She was a real firefighter, and her name was Teresa, or as the guys had called her, T.

She used to work in a firehouse not far from here and taught at the county fire academy. When I was in high school, I had met her at career day, and I’d been fascinated with her. Not because she was beautiful, but because she was sincere, and a little intense, and firefighting was her life. Firefighting also took her life, as Teresa had died in a four-alarm fire at a manufacturing plant along with two other guys two weeks before I graduated from EMT school.

“Teresa was a real firefighter,” I said after clearing my throat. “She’s actually the reason I became a paramedic.”

Roxy grinned playfully. “Why, because you thought you’d get lucky?”

I peered at Wes. “No, that picture is about twenty-five years old. She was at least ten years older than me.”

“Was?” Roxy asked softly.

“Teresa died in a fire. I met her years ago at a career day in high school. She encouraged me to get my degree while being a volunteer firefighter and then work on getting my EMT license and move on to be a paramedic. We talked for a long time that day, and while I never saw her again after that, I never forgot her.”

Wes glanced back at the picture. “I remember when she died.

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