Stranded in Paradise (11 page)

Fighting off the dregs of deep sleep, she shook her head and tried to focus on the lighted numbers on the travel alarm on the nightstand. Six A.M.? What was going on now? Deciding the racket wasn't going to stop, she grabbed her robe and stuffed her arms into it, then rammed her left foot in a loafer. Failing to find the other, she dropped to her knees to search under the chair.

Someone pounded on the door again, then a man's voice yelled out, “Open up!”

She found the missing shoe as the hammering persisted. Springing to her feet, she banged her lip on the edge of the bed frame.

“Ouch!” The tip of her tongue worried the swelling knot as she grabbed the shoe and stuffed it onto her right foot. “Ouch!” She'd forgotten the sore ankle. Fire alarms were shrilling in the hallway.

Her tongue was still exploring her bleeding lip as she reached the door and jerked it open to find a fireman in full gear standing in front of her, ax in hand, his face blackened with soot. Two air tanks were strapped to the man's back

“What's going on?”

“We're evacuating the building.”

She caught the scent of smoke. This wasn't a drill; it was the real thing. Panic swelled in her throat.

“We need you to leave the hotel immediately.”

“Ah . . . yeah. I just need to—”

“Leave everything. Get out of the building.” The fireman moved on.

“Take the stairs at the end of the hall. Don't use the elevator,” the man turned to warn over his shoulder before he continued down the hall, pounding on doors and calling out evacuation orders. The firefighter's heavy black leather coat with Maui County Department of Fire Control disappeared into the blue haze hanging in the air.

Hotel guests in various stages of undress rushed past her. Coughing, she reached inside for her purse and then went to the bathroom to retrieve her glasses. As she passed room 215, the door flew open and Carter stumbled out.

“Are you still here?” Carter frowned.

“I had to go back for a minute.”

“For what?”

“My glasses.” Her mouth firmed. “I can't see without them and I didn't have time to put my contacts in.”

Carter glanced at her door number. “What are the chances of us being on the same floor in the Mynah Nest and Pioneer Inn?” The siren kept up its blare as pajama-clad guests raced for the stairwell.

“Hey, you two! Keep moving. Get out of the building.
Now!”

Carter grabbed her arm and propelled her toward the exit stairway. As he opened the heavy door a cloud of thick smoke belched out and he quickly shielded her with his body. Tess's mind raced as other people turned and searched for an alternate escape.

“Down here!” someone shouted.

She edged closer to Carter. “Do you have this uncanny feeling that we're caught in some ludicrous crisis time warp?” she said, trying to sound unconcerned even as tears stung her eyes.

“I'm beginning to get that feeling.”

Her body trembled beneath her thin robe.

By now the firemen were swarming; one beefy man stood by a fire exit and motioned guests through an open window. Tess and Carter managed to keep ahead of the smoke. Fire sprinklers were going off; water ran along the carpeted hall in streams.

“Ouch!” she cried.

Carter stopped. “What?” He looked at her.

She pointed down. “My ankle.” He scooped her up in his arms and raced toward the window, waiting until a man and his wife climbed out onto the metal stairway. Her fingers wrapped in his shirtfront, “I can't do this—”

“Sure you can—we're not talking options here.”

She looked down at the thirty-foot drop, then back to him. “I can't do this. What if I fall?”

“You can do it.” He gently pried her fingers loose from his T-shirt.

She shook her head, clamping her eyes shut tightly.

“Just hold on. I'll carry you down—”

“No! You can't!” Her grip tightened. “I can't—really. I can't.”

“We're only two floors up. We'll be safe. I have eagle footing. Keep your eyes closed and pray.”

“I don't pray . . .” she said weakly.

He glanced down, his face puckered in a frown. “Okay, I'll pray for both of us.” He helped her through the window and climbed out. “Lord, we're coming through!” he shouted. Sirens wailed. Thick black smoke roiled from a downstairs vent. Firemen unraveled long water hoses from pumper trucks. Ladder trucks arrived.

She clung to his shirt, refusing to open her eyes.

“Just hold on.” His voice was low, gentle. He started to ease his way down the fire escape. “We're going to make it just fine. Don't worry. Keep your eyes closed, and don't look down.”

He cautiously felt for each step.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Are we down?”

“Not quite. Still one floor to go.”

“Still one!”

“We're doing fine. Keep your eyes closed.”

“Don't worry.” It wasn't until he set her down on solid ground that she slowly loosened her grip. Fawn-colored eyes opened. She fumbled in her robe pocket and slipped on a pair of eyeglasses.

“You couldn't see anyway?” he exclaimed with a laugh.

“I wasn't taking any chances—all my clothes are up there. What about my clothes? I'm not dressed.”

Carter ran his hand through his hair. “I don't know. We'll have to see how bad the fire is.”

Someone handed the displaced guests cups of hot, fragrant coffee, and a blanket, which Carter protectively wrapped around Tess. Threading their way through the crowd, they wandered across the street, sat on the curb, and stared at the ground floor, where black smoke rolled from broken windows.

A moment later Carter looked over to find a woman sitting on the curb beside him. Startled, he stared at the yellow cat draped around her neck in collarlike fashion.

The woman sent him a peripheral glance and smiled. “There's nothing like a bit of excitement to stir the blood, is there?”

“No, Ma'am.” His eyes focused on the animal. How did she get the cat to do that? Wasn't that thing hot around her neck? Where had she come from? He hadn't seen her at the hotel.

She gave him a smile peppered with experience. “Don't worry. God has everything under control.”

“Indeed He does,” Carter replied.

Nodding, he turned back to Tess, who leaned close and whispered, “I've seen her. She was sitting on the bench at the Banyon tree a couple mornings ago.”

The lady turned with Tess's hushed observation. Their eyes met, and she smiled benignly. After a moment she turned back to stare at the historic old building engulfed in smoke.

“Everything we brought with us is up there,” Tess said.

The woman nodded. “Clothing and luggage can be replaced. But a soul—now that's another thing. I must go, but I'll see you again.” She stood and walked over to one of the waiting ambulances.

“She's an odd duck,” Carter said more to himself than to Tess.

They watched as fire belched from the kitchen area and flames spread. He sat with his wrists hanging over his knees, staring at the ground. “This is turning into some vacation.”

She laughed humorlessly. “And I came to Hawaii to get away from it all.”

He smiled. “Me, too—I'm supposed to be relaxing. Too much stress in my life.”

“Well—” leaning back on his elbows, he stared at the burning hotel, “things could be worse. Like the lady said, material possessions can be replaced. At least no lives were lost.”

She nodded. “Wonder how the fire started?”

He shrugged, and then sat up straighter. “I don't know about you, but I could use some breakfast. Are you hungry?”

“Well,” she looked down at the robe and blanket. “I'm not exactly dressed—”

“Nobody's going to care. Let's find some scrambled eggs. We're down to nothing except what's on our backs. Do you plan to starve, too?”

The corner of her mouth quirked “No.”

“Me either. Let's go.”

He ushered her into the warmth of a nearby small café. The eating establishment was deserted—everyone, it seemed, was out watching the fire. Carter chose a table near the back of the room. She pulled the blanket closer around her robe as if it were a queen's cape, and sat with her back to the wall. Small tables with rush-bottomed chairs waited for customers. Vases of flowers placed on each table added a festive air, and a mural of palm trees and ocean waves covered one wall. The pretty waitress carrying menus and glasses of water looked as if she would feel right at home in a grass skirt.

“What can I get you?” the woman asked.

“Black coffee for me,” Carter said without consulting a menu. “Two scrambled eggs, toast, and some of that tropical guava jelly.”

Tess nodded. “Same.”

The waitress smiled, a deep dimple creasing her twenty-something face. “You two from the hotel?”

“Yes.”

“Too bad. Lose everything?”

Tess studied the table, the knuckles of her hand white from clutching the blanket that wanted to slip off her shoulders.

“It would seem so,” Carter answered. “I don't know when we'll know for certain.”

“Lose your money, too?”

Carter had to smile. “I have my billfold.”

“Well, if you need to run a tab—I'm Joanie, and I own the place.”

“Thanks.”

When Joanie left to retrieve their order, Tess planted her elbows on the table and thrust her fingers into her hair. “I simply cannot believe this!”

Carter shrugged. “Life sometimes throws sliders. The way I see it, we're still alive, we're in paradise, and this vacation has no where to go but up.”

She leveled her gaze on him. “What planet did you say you were from?”

“Earth.” He grinned, and then leaned closer. “Temporary journey until the real thing.”

She groaned. “You're one of those Christians, aren't you? I knew when I saw you bow your head at the luau.”

“You mean the fun luau? Yes,” he said quietly. “I believe in God. He's seen me through a lot.”

“I thought so. You're too . . . comfortable with disaster.”

“I've never heard that one before.”

“I'm sure you have your perfect little life; it's a free ride with God, right?”

“No.” He leveled a gaze at her. “Why are you so uptight?”

That stopped her cold. She sat back and let her hands drop to the table. She looked down and noticed some stray strands of hair. Her face flushed.

“I'm not trying to offend you,” Carter went on. “You just seem . . . stressed.” She lifted her eyes to his.

“I'm not a Christian and I'm sorry I got defensive. Maybe I am stressed. With the fire and all . . .” Her gaze dropped to the bag in her lap. She laughed. “I just realized how stupid I am. I didn't grab my purse; I grabbed a makeup bag.”

“Well, you may be broke but you'll look good,” he said.

“I wasn't thinking,” she said. “That's not like me. I'm usually a logical, organized, in-control person.”

“Losing your britches to a fire will shake up anybody.”

“It's
not
the fire—or Beeg being gone or the weather or losing my contact. It's
everything
—everything about this whole rotten episode called life.”

The waitress set two cups of coffee on the table. Carter stared at the steaming liquid as silence took over. Finally he reached for sugar packets, eyeing her. “What do you mean by ‘everything'?”

She sat silent for a moment, wondering if she'd said too much. Yet there was something about a man in a T-shirt and pajama bottoms and a woman wearing a robe and blanket that transformed strangers into confidants.

“I lost my job.”

“Lost your job,” he repeated. “That's all? I thought you were going to say you'd been given three weeks to live.”

“I might as well.”

“Come on, now. Losing a job isn't the end of the world. You're alive; you're in good health—I presume. You're in paradise.” He smiled, as if hoping to coax the black look off her face. “What's so bad?”

“I was replaced by the boss's old fraternity brother. Fired.”

Carter dumped sugar into his coffee. “That's bad.”

She lifted an indifferent shoulder and grabbed for the blanket when it started to slide. “I know it probably sounds trivial to you.”

“Well, no. Not trivial. But you have to admit it's not one for the books. It happens more than you'd think.”

She absently shredded a napkin. “Dave—that was my boss's dad, who founded the company—had groomed me to be his right hand. I was in line to be the next vice president of human resources. I'd worked hard for the job— my private life the past five years has been practically nonexistent. But then Dave died suddenly . . .”

“And sonny came in and the dream disappeared.”