CHAPTER 19
On the way to town, Dawson made a call to Lou to let her know that he stepped out for a quick trip to town, explaining Sam didn’t want to bother anyone. Lou assured him that they would watch over things from a distance, but she was planning to leave soon herself to drop Ellie off at the stables for riding camp, so they wouldn’t have to worry about a thing until closer to the dinner hour.
At Baker’s, he made sure to grab Ellie’s favorite donut along with all of the other goods he was gathering; it would make a fun dessert, sure to get her excited. As much as he loved alone time with Sam, he looked forward to Ellie coming home, after camp, and barbequing dinner for his girls.
His girls
. He loved the sound of that; it felt good, felt right. He had a family again, a sense of belonging, people to take care of. If anyone asked him a year ago, or even six months ago, if he wanted a family, he would have laughed right in their faces, but now? Now, it was all different. He didn’t know he wanted a family again until one rushed into his life and took over his heart.
He arrived at the house, arms loaded with sweets, finding the gang in their typical gathering place, the mess hall. A quiet day with maintenance and cleaning up to par, they were happy to have a visit from their missing link and of course delighted by the delectable sugary treats in tow. After some quick banter and catching up, he brought up the real reason he stopped by.
Not worried about the ears around listening in, he began to question Blake and Morgan about Rene, what they knew about her and what they could find out. He shared the odd encounter the day before, where Morgan was present and added her two cents. Although nothing specific stood out about Rene’s behavior, nor was it threatening, it struck her as odd, too, and she agreed. It couldn’t hurt to look into her past and get a better idea of who their mysterious neighbor really was.
Being Colton, the eternal optimist and believer in innocence until proven otherwise, he chimed in with a contrary opinion. “Why so suspicious? It just sounds like she was having a bad day to me. Isn’t she friends with Sam? Maybe she’s just lonely, or even a little jealous?” The voice of reason settled around the room.
“I hear you, Sparks, but with everything that has been going on lately, the odd behavior just stands out. Look, maybe she was just having a bad day, but I can’t shake the feeling that there is something more to this, and her familiarity is stumping me,” Dawson shot back, understanding that this could be nothing, but wondering if it could be something.
Feeling his sense of frustration and perhaps a little unease, his partner Carigan had his back and supported his position. “There is that odd familiarity that we all have agreed on, and there have
been a lot of odd incidents since her arrival. I hope it was just a bad day, but what if it was more? Shouldn’t we at least look into it? Peace of mind and all?”
“I think she’s weird!” All eyes shifted to Jessie and her brutal honesty. If nothing else, you always knew what she thought and where you stood, even if it wasn’t flattering. “What? She is. She never goes anywhere, always holed up in that horse barn. It’s like she doesn’t like people or something. And when she is around, she’s always watching; it’s creepy.”
Silence lingered as they processed Jessie’s frankness and realized maybe there was a little mystery to her behavior that none of them had really noticed. “Your silence basically says I’m right. You’re welcome; mystery solved. She’s strange, a creepy people watcher,” Jessie finished, before adding her last bit of bitch, “I bet she had one of those scary lairs and does who knows what in it, like on those TV shows.”
Jessie’s observation of Rene didn’t make Dawson feel any better, even if part was in jest. In fact, that nagging in his gut was getting stronger; Jessie may be on to something. “What do you think Morgie? You probably know her best. You are down at the stables a lot.”
Not wanting to stir the pot, but beginning to feel that same heaviness Dawson was, she shifted to cop mode and laid out the facts, or assumptions, as they may be. “I have to echo Sparks, a little, in that she could just be lonely, and seeing Sam surrounded by support, maybe jealous?” This wasn’t a far-fetched idea. In fact, it made the most sense, considering the absence of evidence of any kind.
“She is kind, amazing with the kids, but I can’t overlook that there really isn’t anything else about her that I can share. Thinking about it, I don’t really know anything about her, other than what I just told you. She is a bit of a loner.” Acknowledging that she was a loner
was a red flag in the cop world. Why was she a loner? What was she hiding, if anything? Why was she so damn familiar to everyone?
“Look, I don’t have anything to justify something official. Jessie not liking someone isn’t evidence. Jessie doesn’t like anyone, but I can’t ignore that there is something to look at. Let’s at least find out who she is,” Blake said, settling the conversation. It wouldn’t hurt to see who Rene Garcia really was and where she came from.
Sam felt Dawson’s absence immediately and giggled at herself for such. For perhaps the first time in her life, she desperately craved a relationship. Sure, as a child, she wanted more of her mother, but quickly learned affection and attention from Bette Morrison was about as likely as being raised by a pack of wild wolves.
She was okay with that, though, especially when Granny Lou and Evie came into her life. She loved them dearly, but they were a given, proven, rock solid family. Dawson wasn’t a promise, just a desire, and boy did she desire him. She felt safe, cherished even, with him.
She adored the relationship developing between him and Ellie. That was her only hesitation; she worried about her baby’s heart, should he change his mind about them. Would he get bored with her, with them, when things were back to status quo? Would family life be too much for the lifelong bachelor?
Loyal. If Dawson had shown her anything these past several months, through all the trials and tribulations along the way, it was that he was loyal. That loyalty and compassion he had told her over and over that she could trust him, count on him, be with him. She was in too far now. Imagining life without him now pained her. Yes, her desire, that craving, was deeply rooted in her heart, clear to her soul, and she was going to let her heart run with it, despite what her mind had been telling her for months. Dawson was hers.
With time to kill, and a bit of privacy for a change, Sam decided to pull out her laptop and do what she had been dreading—pay bills and go over her finances. Granny had taken care of the basics while she was “asleep,” but it was time to assess the damage and make a plan. She had a small savings and disability from the hospital, but she knew this was going to make things a little tough for a while. A couple months in the hospital on a single parent’s income was about as affordable as a five-star trip to Spain on a private jet.
Her car was easy; it was a total loss and completely resolved by the time she came to. She just needed to find a new car. There was no rush on that front, though, since she was still sporting a bum leg and not cleared to drive just yet.
A roof over their heads was priority one. She hadn’t received a single call from her mortgage company. They were obviously aware of her situation and kindly cutting her a break she thought, but that wouldn’t last forever. So that needed to be her first order of action. She opened her laptop that was propped against her nightstand and logged into her mortgage account with her lender. Checking it multiple times, cross-referencing her balance due with the payment history, she was baffled by what she found.
Her balance was current, payments had been made, and she was three weeks from her next payment. Was there an error? Her checking and savings reflected something different; she hadn’t paid a dime, so how was this possible? Had Granny paid her mortgage and not told her? Why would she do that, knowing Sam would figure it out? Besides, Granny couldn’t afford to manage her mortgage in addition to her own expenses.
She looked up her account with the hospital next. Interesting. Paid in full, as of the day Sam was discharged, not a dime owed. After checking all of her other basic household expenses and a quick call to Granny, she found that Gran had only paid what she said, and those balances were reflected on Sam’s bank account—utilities, cell phone, camp for Ellie, all accounted for, nothing regarding the mortgage payments or a behemoth hospital bill.
Something wasn’t right. Thinking back to her conversation with Gran, she had mentioned that every time they spoke to Beth at the hospital, she said there was nothing due at that time and she would be in touch should a problem arise. Granny Lou had assumed it had to be an exception since Sam was an employee, but no balance at all? They just weren’t that generous; it’s a hospital after all.
Completely stumped and even a little annoyed and frustrated, Sam called the mortgage company. They assured her that her account was current, all payments made on time, and it wasn’t a mistake. She asked how, but the representative wasn’t able to answer without more research on her end because all that was noted on her account was that her payments were made with a credit card with the reference “Tayler.”
Sam reluctantly hung up, anxious for a call back. She hadn’t made those payments, even if the reference was Tayler. Impatient as ever, she decided to try her luck with Beth from the hospital business office. Surely, she could shed some light on this odd situation. They exchanged pleasantries. Sam shared the progress she was making in her healing journey before cutting to the chase. Beth went silent at Sam’s question of who paid her account off. Beth stumbled over her words and gave as vague an answer as there ever was; she said it was paid in full, lump sum, anonymously. After light banter, Sam conceded. Maybe the mortgage company would shed some light on her dilemma. Who would have done this? She didn’t know a single soul with that kind of money.
Sam hobbled to the bathroom for a shower, something she had mastered on her own, as well as being able to keep the contraption on her bad leg dry during the showering process. After a quick rinse and changing into comfy clothes, hair done, and even a little lip gloss, she made it back to her bed just in time to see the email from the mortgage company come through. She had just opened it when her phone rang—Dawson.
Dawson was getting ready to leave the gang and wanted to know if she needed anything before he headed back with their breakfast. She giggled and mentioned something about breakfast and needing something other than fritters. Her playfulness and flirting started a sexy back and forth of what exactly they were craving and wanting instead of fritters.
A chill ran down her spine as she began to read the opened email, and her heart sank as she read what was in front of her while listening to Dawson’s almost dirty talk on the other end of the phone. The attachment to the email was copies of the charge slips that had made her monthly mortgage payments; it was Tayler alright, Dawson Tayler.
“Son of a…” She half shouted in irritation.
On sudden alert, he quickly questioned her. “Sam, what is it; is everything okay?”
“It was you. You did all this. Why?” Disappointment flooded her words, and he didn’t miss it at all. What had she thought he had done?
“Sam, help me out here; I don’t know what…”
“You paid the hospital too, didn’t you?” She accused, feeling insecure and almost embarrassed that he had paid her bills for her.
Oh, that. Not expecting her to find out, much less question him in the middle of a fun game of phone sex, he quickly tried to find the words to dig him out of this. “Yes, I did. I wanted to help. I overheard Beth talking to Lou and Everly one afternoon, and I figured it was something I could help with when I couldn’t help you with anything else, at the time.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility, and you hid it from me. What the hell were you thinking? You know it will take me years
to pay all of that back to you!”
“I don’t want your money, Sam; that’s not why I did it. I did it because I wanted to lift the burdens you would be facing, to make sure you and Ellie would be okay. I don’t want the money back. I don’t need the money.” He knew he was in deep right now and revealing his finances, and ample wealth he’d inherited, probably wouldn’t make this go over any easier, but he was going to lay all the cards on the table. Here was his chance at the truth, clean slate, so they could move on together.
“Of course I have to pay you back, Dawson. We are not your responsibility. You earned this money long before you met me…”
“Sam, I don’t need the money. My family…my family had money, lots of it, and I was the only remaining heir. I don’t even have to work, but I do. I couldn’t live off that money, and think of them every time I’ve spent it. Taking care of you and El, that was the first time I even touched it.”
“What? Secrets already? Awesome! You crossed the line Dawson. You have no obligation to us. We aren’t your responsibility, and we aren’t your family!” Regretting her words as soon as she said them, she paused, trying to figure out a way around this. She wanted him, not his money.
Before she could say another word, she noticed smoke billowing in below her door, long before she smelled it. What the hell? She rushed to the door, phone still in hand, and felt it with the back of her hand; it was hot. Shit, there was a fire!
He continued, unaware of the events unfolding on the other end of the phone, “You’re wrong. You are my family, and I do take responsibility for you, Sam. I did this because even then I knew I loved…”
Before he could finish his declaration of love and fix the mess he created, he was interrupted by a scream on the other end of the phone. He quickly turned to his friends, all attention on him as he continued to question her, trying to get her to answer him. All he could hear was Sam’s scream and now an obvious blare that was all too familiar, a smoke detector.
Feeling that the door was hot, Sam did exactly what she shouldn’t do; she opened the door. Her house was engulfed in furious flames. There was no way out of that room. Was this really happening? Again? She closed the door against the fire, fully aware it wouldn’t provide safety, and it was only a temporary barrier. She panicked. She couldn’t get out. The windows were too high, and with her leg, there was no way she would be able to get up there. Shit, this time she might not make it out alive!
Dawson put her on speaker, so everyone could hear. “Oh my God, I’m trapped!” was all she said, over and over. Fear pierced him like a knife to the chest. The room so silent, you could almost hear their thoughts. Time stood still as they listened to their friend in crisis.
He continued to yell into the phone, trying to get her attention when she finally spoke to him directly, “Smoke! Smoke is everywhere, Dawson. I can’t get out! Please help me; I can’t get out! I can’t get out!”
Without a word, the gang called in an alarm and rushed to their various posts, losing no time getting to the scene. Dawson was the first one out and on his way, as well, while he calmly talked to her to get through the panic. “Sam, honey, I need you to listen. Are you with me? Are you listening? Sam?”
Terror filled words came through the line, and it nearly crumbled him as her voice shrunk to a whisper, “Dawson, help me. There’s too much smoke. What do I do? I can’t get to the windows. I’m trapped, Dawson. Oh, my God, it can’t end like this. Please help me; this can’t be the end.”
Motivated by her fear and clear depiction of what was going on at her house, his own fear was pushed down as his adrenaline took over, and his determination to get to his girl was more powerful than one could imagine. He would not let her die. He would not let her leave him. “Honey, I need you to listen to me. I need you to go to the bathroom, close the door, and put a wet towel in front of it. I’m coming!”
“Dawson, I need you. Please, help me. I need you to help me!”
Her words pained him. She was desperate, death just a door away, and he wasn’t there and couldn’t get there fast enough. “I’m almost there, baby; I’m almost there. Nothing is going to hurt you. Stay with me, okay?”
Breathing became harder and harder. The thick smoke was making its way under the door, and even with a wet cloth over her face, it was suffocating her. She continued to sob, despite the coughing and choking, while he spoke to her, attempting to keep her calm. An all too familiar darkness started to settle in. Not this, not again. She began to pray.
Dawson broke every traffic law there was and wasn’t sorry. Sirens blaring behind him, he was almost there, the cavalry quickly catching up. Finally reaching her street, he could see the blaze ahead. He was reeling. Although in sight, he just couldn’t seem to get to her. He had to rescue her. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t live with that. Dear God, let them get there in time.
He parked his truck in front of Lou’s house, leaving room for the emergency vehicles in front of Sam’s, or what was left of it. Houses in this rural mountain neighborhood had nearly a full city block between them. Lou walked outside, hearing the ruckus, just as Dawson sprinted toward Sam’s.
“What on earth, boy? What are you…” And then, she saw it for herself as she followed the direction he was running. The entire house next door, Sam’s house, completely engulfed in flames, a dark smoke plume billowing above. “Dear God! Sam!”
He charged through the side gate, running to the back of her house. Behind him, he could hear Colton yelling for him to stop, to wait for them. Like hell he was waiting another second. He heard both him and Jessie cursing, their steps quickly approaching as they chased him in.
Still on the phone, he could hear her breathing. “Sam, honey? I’m here; I’m right outside. Step away from the window, baby; get away from the window!” She didn’t respond, not a word. He said it again, hoping she could hear him. He dropped his phone and yelled it again, hoping she could hear him through the frosted glass picture window that rested the length of her bathtub, before grabbing a garden brick and throwing it through the window, shattering it. Without a clear opening, he leapt through, cutting his arms and sides, finding his way to her limp, semi-conscious body.
Dawson balanced her wilted body on his leg, swung a towel around his right arm, and began breaking out the glass so he could get her out unharmed. Sparks approached yelling, “Cover her head! Turn away!” and used his axe to help clear an opening for the two to safely fit through.
Dawson made his way through, pushing his way past Jessie and Colton. Refusing to let them take her, he carried her around the front, far away from the fire, and right to Carigan and Jack, who was filling in for him while he was on leave. They gave her oxygen and tried to tend to him too, but he refused their help, demanding they help Sam first.
Blake, combat trained and having served many tours of duty, wasn’t new to treating the wounded on a whim. He applied pressure to a bloodied Dawson’s side, where he was quickly bleeding out, while instructing Morgan to tie off a tourniquet on his arm to stop the flow of blood there. He was hurt, maybe worse than Sam, covered in blood from the glass shards, some that were still hanging from him and in the wounds he encountered in her rescue.
Satisfied with the attention Sam was getting, he allowed Sparks and Clarke to dress his wounds better and prep him for transport while they updated what they had observed so far. The fire, as bad as it looked from the outside, appeared to be contained to only that portion of the house. The front and other areas were clear, only suffering smoke damage, as far as they could see.
“The team breached the front door to hit it from both sides, but the flames hadn’t reached that area yet.” Jessie was all matter of fact, no bullshit, a first for her. She didn’t want to share the next part, but she suspected foul play. The location of the fire and how aggressive it was, in what seemed to be an isolated area, made absolutely no sense.
Lou rushed over, unable to reach Everly – she had taken Ellie to breakfast before heading to Sugar Pine for camp – not wanting them to come home to this. Blake dispatched orders, giving everyone direction while they got to the bottom of this. Dawson needed stitches. His arms, torso, and face were badly cut, but he refused to ride in the second ambulance, insisting on riding with Sam on Carigan’s bus. Morgan took off to find Everly and get her up to speed, while Sparks and Clarke stayed behind to finish clearing the scene and gather whatever information they could. Blake followed the ambulance in Dawson’s truck. Everyone had a job to do and was to meet at the hospital as soon as they could manage. McKenzie Ridge’s finest had a crime to solve.