Burning Wild

Chapter Nine

It was after eleven o'clock when I woke up the following morning. I groaned as I sat up, my muscles aching. My head was killing me, a direct result of the overabundance of wine I'd essentially inhaled the previous night. For the first time since college, I had a hangover. I rolled my eyes, sending a fresh wave of pain coursing through my forehead.

The house was quiet- too quiet. I walked downstairs in search of Jake, but he was nowhere to be found. Unable to continuing looking with the bass drum playing behind my temples, I pulled out a kitchen chair and sat with my head in my hands. When I looked up, I saw a handwritten note, two pain killers, and a bottle of Gatorade sitting on the dining room table. I picked up the paper and began reading. 

"Good morning Cat,

I didn't want to disturb you by sending a text message - I figure that you're about as hungover as I am right now J I wanted to let you know that I'm working a twelve-hour shift, so I won't be back until late tonight. Make yourself comfortable. You have my cell if you need anything.

Jake"

I felt my shoulders slump forward in disappointment. I had forgotten that Jake had to return to work today.

My stomach grumbled, but I was far too nauseous to eat. Instead, I downed the painkillers and took a drink of Gatorade, hoping to ease my hangover enough so that I could get some work done.

I opened my laptop, and an email notification immediately appeared on the screen. The message was from my boss, who was checking in on how things were going. He indiscreetly mentioned that my project due date was around the corner and that he was still waiting for my blueprints. I could sense an undertone to the email.

I let out a deep sigh of frustration, feeling knots in my stomach. I had never been this far behind in my work, but ever since the fire, I couldn't seem to focus on the task at hand. I reminded myself that I'd experienced a life-changing disaster, an accident that would keep any normal person from being able to focus.

I knew deep down that the reasons behind my distraction ran deeper than the wildfires. I had allowed my mind to wander far too often, had been preoccupied with all of the wrong things. Now I risked upsetting a client by being late on a project that I had barely even started.

I stared at my computer screen, hoping for some surge of inspiration to smack me right in the face, but I found myself uneasy. It took me a moment to place the feeling, before realizing that my anxiety was caused by Jake. Now that he was back in the field, fighting against the fires that threatened to take someone else's life, just as they had threatened to take mine, Jake could end up getting hurt again.

The idea of him running headfirst into a blazing inferno made me queasy. I tried to push the notion from my mind, but it was the only thing I could think of the entire morning. Jake's job was an admirable one, one that only kind-hearted and selfless people could do. I was thankful for him and everything he had done for me, and I hoped that he could save more lives, just like he had saved mine. But as proud as I was of the noble work Jake was doing, it worried me that he was once again putting his life in danger.

I wasn't aware of just how much I cared for him until I realized that he could die. The comprehension that I cared for Jake so intensely was almost as terrifying as the idea of him being lost in an inferno.

For as long as I could remember, I'd pushed people away. I had spent so much time watching my mother mourn my absentee father, that I avoided getting close to people so that I never had to feel that pain. I vowed that I would never allow someone to hurt me the way my father had, would never give my heart to someone only for it to be broken. Yet, there I was, my mind focused on Jake, terrified that he might not come home.