“Why? Why you?”
“I’m a paramedic, for God’s sake. If she’s hurt, you think you can carry her? I have a better first aid kit in the truck. I have walkie-talkies. You should stay here in case she comes back and you can radio me. I’ll try to get Beau to take me to her.”
“He ain’t trained in that, you know. But I have sent him off to get Molly when she wanders a little far and he could manage that.”
Connie made tracks to his truck. He loaded up his backpack, changed his shoes for boots, put a rappelling rope over one shoulder, put on a harness and grabbed an extra in case. He wasn’t sure he’d have to lower himself down a hill or cliff but if he did have to he wasn’t going to come back for that stuff. He checked his GPS unit—charged.
Sully was on the porch. “Want me to call the search group?”
“Let’s see what Beau gives me first,” he said. “I have a feeling he knows what he’s talking about.” He handed Sully a walkie-talkie. Then he looked at the dog, gave him a pet and said, “Take me to her, Beau.”
Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.
—Eleanor Roosevelt
Chapter 7
SIERRA SHIVERED AND checked her watch every two minutes. She had been sitting for over a half hour and it was cold back in the woods. Beau had abandoned her and was probably chasing a deer or rolling around in bear poop somewhere. Her teeth chattered. Molly shivered and Sierra held her close against her thigh, arm around her, trying to lend heat.
At forty minutes since Beau took off she wondered if she should start to hobble or crawl or scoot on her butt. She checked her ankle almost as often as her watch. It was looking more repulsive by the minute—growing red and purple and fat. She took a drink of her water and then held Molly’s chin up and squirted some in her mouth. Molly looked up at her with very sad, sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry,” she told her new best friend. “I put you in a terrible, scary situation. I should have been paying closer attention to the ground.” Molly just licked her.
“You are the nicest friend I’ve ever had,” she told Molly. Soaking wet, all her fluff matted down with rain, she didn’t seem to be very big. “Imagine, I could be out here alone, but I feel like I’ll never be alone again now that I found you.”
“You’re not alone now, either,” a voice said. She jumped in sudden fear and looked up to see Connie and Beau standing on the trail not too far away. She grabbed her chest, tried to slow her lurching heart. “What’s up, Sierra?”
She sat on a rock and lifted her foot toward him. “I fell. I messed up my ankle, I guess. I tried walking on it and I can, but... I looked around for a strong stick or branch I could use like a cane, but no luck.”
Connie came forward and shed his backpack, rope and extra harness. He knelt in front of her and lifted her foot, pulling down the sock to look at her ankle. He gently turned it back and forth and she winced. “Crap,” he said. “What an ugly mess.”
He dug around in his backpack and brought out an Ace bandage.
“Were you going climbing?” she asked, noting the ropes and harness.
“Nope, I was coming after you.”
“What’s the rope and everything for?”
He met her eyes and once again she was startled by the beautiful robin’s egg blue. “I didn’t know where I’d find you, Sierra. You could’ve been at the bottom of a ravine or something.” He pulled a walkie-talkie off his belt. “I got her, Sully. She hurt her ankle. I’ll bring her back.”
“You need transport?” Sully’s raspy voice asked into the radio.
“No, I’ll transport her.”
“How are you going to do that?” Sierra asked. “Are you going to cut down tree branches and build a litter and drag me home?”
“No, I’m going to piggyback you,” he said. “The preferred method is the fireman’s carry, over the shoulder, but a half hour of that would just about ruin you.” He unlaced her hiking boot. “I’m going to wrap this ankle to help get the swelling under control but I’m not taking the boot off—you might not get it back on and it’ll be easier to carry while it’s on your foot. When we get back to Sully’s we’ll elevate it, put ice on it and I’ll wrap it properly. We might have to go get an X-ray.”
“Do you think I broke it?”
“You’ll need an X-ray to know that, Sierra. You have water?”
“Yes,” she said, holding out her bottle.
He took it and shared it with Beau, who had done a lot of running lately. Then he gave Beau and Molly a couple of treats.
“Did Beau fetch you?” she asked. “I didn’t have many options but I thought he might be able to get himself home—he’s familiar with the trails out here.”
“He did. I think we got ourselves a search animal. Or maybe just a smart animal, I don’t know. But he did come for Sully and he brought me to you.”
“I couldn’t let Molly go. I thought she’d probably follow Beau, but what if she didn’t? I couldn’t go find her if she got lost.”
He finished wrapping up her ankle. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Only when I step on it and then, zowie.”
He dug around in his backpack and came out with two bottles of water, handing them to her. Then he stuffed the rope and harnesses in his backpack. He took the pack behind the rock she’d been sitting on and hid it behind a bush. He covered it with his rain slicker.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t need the extra weight. I’ll come back for it later or tomorrow. You about ready to go home?”
Her teeth chattered and she nodded.
“You’ll warm up a little with my body heat,” he said. He crouched in front of her. “You’re in charge of the water, for me and the dogs. Put it in your backpack and climb on—piggyback.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Connie. What am I going to do if I break your back?”
He threw her a look over his shoulder that said, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Let’s think about this,” she said. “You don’t have to impress me. I know you’re very strong. If I could just lean on you...”
“That’ll take too long. Besides, I have to be able to carry seventy-five pounds up fifteen stories to stay qualified. This will be easier, so let’s do it. Come on.”
“All right,” she said. “It’s your funeral.”
“That was unnecessary,” he said. He hoisted her up, settled her with a couple of bounces. “How’s that feel?”
“I feel fine. How do you feel?”
“Like we’re going for a long walk,” he said. “Hang on to Molly’s leash. I’m not chasing her. Come on, Beau! Let’s do it.” And off he went. After ten minutes or so, breathing harder than he had been, he stopped and lowered her to the ground. He was a little raspy. “Little rest. Water please.” He shook out his limbs, stretched his back, drank some water, crouched in front of her again.
“Take a little more time,” she said.
“I’m ready.”
“Really, take a little more—”
“Come on,” he said. “I don’t want to be doing this all day.”
“All right, all right.” She climbed on. “Is there anything I can do to make this easier?”
“Tell me a story,” he said.
“A story?”
“Tell me your story, then. When did you decide to move out here? And from where?”
“A couple of months before I got here. Cal had been after me. He and Maggie wanted me to come. I wasn’t sure that was a good idea so I thought about it for a while.”
“But you came. From where? And why?”
“You’re very nosy,” she said. “I was living in Des Moines in a little house with some roommates. My parents live on a farm in the southern
part of the state. I’d been through a series of dead-end jobs and I knew I needed to do something different. And I missed Cal. He’s my favorite sibling and we were really close growing up.”
“What kind of jobs?” he asked.
She sighed. “Seriously bad jobs. I had some college—about three years that took me about six to get because I had to work. I went to school in Michigan and when Cal’s wife died and he left the state, I—”
“Wait! His wife died?” Connie asked.
“You didn’t know that?”
“No, I didn’t know that!”
“Three years ago. They were married about eight years, I think. She was a lawyer, too. They were very happy, but she had scleroderma. It’s—”
“I know what it is,” he said. “It’s awful, that’s what it is.”
“Yeah, the poor woman. My poor brother. After she died and he left Michigan, so did I. About six months later. But he was off on some odyssey to find himself and there was no place for me in that. So, I went back to Iowa, kicked around for a few months near the farm, took a couple of jobs I hated but paid decent and had benefits. Over the last year and a half I waitressed, cleaned airport bathrooms, worked in a couple of nursing homes. The worst job was in a recycle center, separating stuff. Handling garbage, basically. It was awful. My life was going nowhere so coming out here to see if I could make sense of things didn’t seem like a bad idea. Cal made sense of his. I think it all came together when he found Maggie.”
“Maggie’s cool,” Connie said. “Didn’t you have a guy?”
She laughed. “Oh, Connie. No, there wasn’t a guy...”
“Why’d you say it like that? Like it was a dumb question?”
“It wasn’t a dumb question,” she said. “I don’t have a good answer, that’s all. I went out with some guys but... Okay, here’s the deal—I can’t pick ’em. That’s all. If I met some guy I liked, odds were excellent he was a loser. There you have it.”
“Describe ‘loser,’” he said.
“Come on, don’t ask me that. You’ll just find out how really incompetent I am and I’d rather you think I’m smart and nice.”
“I do. Describe loser.”
She took a deep breath. “Liars. Cheaters. Guys with bad habits or mean personalities or nasty tempers.” Or psychopathic stalkers, she thought. That was the real reason she’d left Des Moines suddenly. She thought she saw him there. She wasn’t absolutely sure but she saw a guy at a distance, about a block away, who was a dead ringer for Derek Cox. She decided this invitation of Cal’s couldn’t have come at a better time.
Connie just marched on for a while, silent. Contemplating. “Not one good man?” he finally asked.
“Well, the problem could be me,” she said. “I saw Colorado as an opportunity. For self-examination. For renewal. A fresh start.”
“Because you’d like to find a good guy,” he said.
“I’m not looking for a guy. Definitely don’t want to find another loser,” she said with a laugh. “Really, I love my life as one person. And now that I have Molly, I feel so connected. Molly is so wonderful. A little naughty and in the most innocent way.” The dog looked up at her. “Yes, I’m talking about you. She loves to please. She smiles, she honestly does. When she emerges from puppyhood she’ll be the most magnificent dog alive.”
Connie grunted.
“Need a rest?” she asked.
“Nah, I’m good. Just seems like since it takes so little to make you happy, you should’ve found the right guy years ago.”
“Maybe I’m finally changing, Connie. Wanna tell me about your girl?”
“My what?”
“Your girl. Don’t you have a girl?”
He snorted. “I have a lot of girls.”
She laughed. “That figures.”
“What do you mean, figures? I go out, okay. I have girls I go out with but I’m not in a relationship.”
“Well, that figures...”
He stopped walking and let her slide gently to the ground. “Water,” he said.
She pulled a bottle out of her pack and watched as he took a drink, then squirted water in both dogs’ mouths. He went through his shaking-out-limbs and stretching maneuvers again, took a few deep breaths, a little more water, then presented his back. “Up you go.”
“Are we almost back?” she asked.
“Not far now,” he said. And off he went.
A few minutes passed before he said anything. “I had a girl a few years ago. Couple of years ago, I guess. It didn’t work out.”
Sierra didn’t say anything.
“I guess she had a short attention span. She—”
“I don’t need to know,” Sierra said.
“Someone else came along, got her attention and that was the end of that. Since then I’ve just been going out for fun. Just friends, you know. There hasn’t been anyone serious is all I’m saying.”
“Okay, fine, you don’t have to explain.”
“I know! I’m not explaining. I’m telling you because you told me and that’s what people do!”
“Stop it. You’re going to get all out of breath.”
“I’m fine.” He went quiet again. “We might have that in common, you know.”
“What?”
“Not being able to pick ’em.”
“Then it’s probably good we’re not picking any right now,” she said.
“I never saw it coming,” he said.
“Really... I don’t need to know this...”
“She cheated. With a guy I knew. A guy I work with.”
Sierra groaned.
“So it was pretty ugly,” he said. “But that was a couple of years ago. And I don’t even think about it anymore.”
“I can see that,” she said. “Look, I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Yeah. Shit happens.”
Thank God the back of the store came into sight. Sully was standing outside the back door, out by the garden. Beau ran to him so she let Molly’s leash drop. “Okay, Molly,” she said, and her best girl charged for Sully.
When Connie reached Sully, Sierra could see he looked concerned. Worried. “What we got, Connie?”
“A badly sprained ankle, at least. It’s going to need an X-ray.” He let her slide down to balance on one foot, leaning on him. “You wanna try to get a little cleaned up, Sierra? I’ll tote you over to your cabin and if you can clean up and change out of your wet clothes without putting weight on your ankle, you can. Or I can help you. I’ve seen a lot of naked girls.” He grinned.
She made a face. “I’ll manage,” she said. “I hate for you to go to any more trouble.”
“Really, if you walk on it, you could have bigger problems. You shouldn’t walk on it.”
“I can take her for an X-ray, Connie,” Sully said.
“They see me in that urgent care all the time,” Connie said. He grinned. “I’m influential there. You just worry about the store and call Cal. You might be late for dinner. She’ll probably be on crutches. And you’ll have to see about Molly. I think Molly and Beau—they might need a little extra food and water.”
Sully picked up Molly’s leash and looked down at the two wagging, smiling dogs. “They look ecstatic to me.”
“Oh, Sully, I’m sorry—they’re filthy. And I bet they stink. Maybe if you call Cal he’ll help out,” Sierra said.
“I ain’t crippled,” Sully said. “I been washing dogs since before you were born. Come on you two.”
Connie presented his back. “Up you go. Let’s get this done.” And he carried her off to her cabin. “I’ll call the urgent care in town and let them know we’re coming. Luckily, they have an X-ray. Can you get along on your own? Hopping and using furniture to hold yourself off that foot?”
&nb
sp; “I got it,” she said. “Thanks.”
* * *
Connie felt like an idiot. He had no idea why he’d made so many lame comments to Sierra. He had a lot of girls? Since when? His last serious girl cheated with a guy he worked with? Why not just direct her to the Facebook crap that had been posted at the time? He’d seen a lot of girls naked? Very classy, Connie.
Sierra cleaned up and Connie took her to the urgent care in Timberlake. He had called ahead so the technician took an X-ray and the urgent care doctor said it looked like a bad sprain. He said he’d send the films over to the orthopedic surgeon to see if he found anything more than that. The prescription was a wrap, ice, elevation, stay off it for a couple of weeks. At least.
“I’m a waitress!” Sierra said.
“Not for two to three weeks. You don’t want to ignore this, screw it up and limp for the rest of your life. I’ll write you an excuse so your boss doesn’t fire you. And a prescription for pain meds,” the doctor said.
“I’m okay,” she said. “I don’t need pain meds.”
“You might,” he said. “I’ll give you the prescription and if you need it, you’ll have it.”
And that was it. Connie stopped by the firehouse to change into some dry, clean clothes he had in his locker and had her back at the Crossing by 7:00 p.m. Cal and Maggie were there. Maggie was setting one of the tables on the front porch; it appeared they’d brought dinner because Sierra had an injury. Cal came out to Connie’s truck and plucked Sierra out of the passenger seat and carried her up to the porch.
Connie had wanted to do that. Instead, he followed, carrying her crutches.
“Looks like you’re all set,” Connie said. “Cal, she got a prescription for pain meds but she didn’t want to fill it.”
“I’m fine,” Sierra said. But by the look on her face, she was barely fine.
“I’d get the pills, just to have them.”
“I just need ice and elevation.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Maggie said. “I set a place for you. You’re having dinner with us.”