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?”
“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.”
“Aw, I’m kind of...” He sniffed in the general direction of his armpit. “I changed but I didn’t want to waste time on a shower.”
“We’re all hardworking people here,” Sully said as he came out of the store with a steaming casserole dish for the table. “Besides, my nose has been dead about ten years now. My eyes and ears are struggling to catch up with my nose.”
“Sit down, Connie,” Maggie said. She was adjusting Sierra’s foot up on a chair. “You should get a whiff of me after about six hours inside a skull. It’s amazing. Right now,” she said, sniffing her sleeve, “I smell like wet dog. And we owe you at least dinner. Maybe dinner and a movie.”
“Okay, it’s your funeral,” Connie said.
“That was unnecessary,” Sierra said, smiling at him. “Come on, sit down. After all, you saved my life. We’re bonded now.”
“He saves lives for a living,” Cal said. “Don’t give him too much attention.”
“You weren’t likely to die, Sierra,” Connie said. “Just get very wet and make your ankle more swollen.” He pulled up a chair, as far away from the group as possible, taking care to sit between Cal and Sully. He wanted to sit by Sierra, but opted instead to sit across from her. He could look right at her.
Cal disappeared and returned with salad and French bread. Sully disappeared and returned with serving spoons and tongs. Everyone sat. Then no one moved.
“What have we got here,” Connie asked, suddenly starving.
“Low-sodium vegetarian lasagna and gluten-free French bread,” Maggie announced proudly.
“Thrilling,” Sully mumbled. “I hope I get to pick a last meal before I croak. Convicted killers get to...”
“It’s delicious,” Maggie said. “Stop bitching.”
“Rejoice,” Cal said. “Maggie doesn’t cook.”
“I cook,” she said. “But you cook better and I’m okay with that.”
And thus the dinner progressed with stories, jokes, banter, debate. Connie liked the way Cal and Maggie poked at each other, the way Sully poked at everyone and not the least of which was poking at himself. The lasagna was good despite the fact that there wasn’t any meat. Connie liked it and it got him talking about his diet. He was a little obsessive about his food and his exercise. He’d always been, since he was fifteen anyway. He avoided processed foods, he told them.
Well, there was that period of time a couple of years ago when he’d been pretty dysfunctional, didn’t work out much, ate whatever was handy, got a little flabby and out of shape. People joked about the divorce diet but in Connie’s case he’d actually gained fat, had a little floppy belly, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t concentrate.
He didn’t mention that part. He just said he was a little obsessive, having been small when he was a kid.
It was only about eight when he noticed Sierra was getting droopy. He met her eyes across the table. “I bet you’re worn-out,” he said softly.
“I think so.”
He pushed back his chair and stood. “Sierra’s saying good-night and then so am I. Dinner was great, Maggie, but I need a shower. First I’m going to take my rescue back to her cabin, then I’ll take off. Oh—someone will have to take her into town tomorrow if the orthopedist wants to see her—she can’t drive with that bad ankle. If you need my help, just call.”
“I got it,” Cal said. “I can take her to her cabin if—”
“I’m good,” Connie said. “By now she’s almost an appendage.”
“I’ll bring ice,” Cal said.
Connie scooped Sierra off her chair, swung her past the crutches leaning against the wall, clicked his teeth to Molly, told her come on, and took Sierra down the steps and across the yard.
She leaned her head against his chest and he felt warm there. Warm and cozy and pleasant. “You’re going to sleep good tonight,” he said, resisting the urge to drop a kiss on her head.
“You’re going to sleep even better,” she said. Then she yawned.
“Listen, about before, all that stuff about my ex, I don’t know why I brought that up. It didn’t mean that much, you know? It’s so over I can hardly remember her face. She’s still working in Timberlake and I run into her sometimes but if it wasn’t for that I wouldn’t even recognize her.”
“I thought nothing of it,” Sierra said. “But what I told you? About attracting losers? It’s real, so stand clear. It’s possible that if I like you, it turns you into a loser.”
He laughed. “I’m not worried. I’m kind of stuck with who I am.”
“Thank you for helping me today,” she said.
“No big deal,” he said.
“Connie, you carried me on your back for over a mile!”
“Like Cal said, it’s what I do. Don’t give me too much attention for it.” He put her down in front of the little cabin. “You’ll be okay now. Your brother is bringing ice. I have to work the next couple of days but if you need something, I can get a few hours of personal time.”
“I have Cal. And Sully. And Maggie, too—she doesn’t go back to Denver for a few days.”
“Well, you’re in good hands, then,” he said, backing away. “Have a good sleep.”
“You, too.”
He headed for his truck. He passed Cal, who had an ice pack and Sierra’s crutches. There was very little activity around the grounds; a few campfires here and there. There was a couple down near the lake. They seemed almost wrapped around each other and Connie envied them.
He was suddenly melancholy. He liked Sierra. She’d been up against his back or in his arms for a long time today and it had been perfect. And she, like him, had no confidence real love would ever find her. He understood the feeling.
But damn, he wasn’t ready. He might never be ready. He’d been getting by just fine so why now? Why her?
Look out, Connie, he told himself. Looks like you’re going down...
* * *
Sierra leaned on her door, feeling cold. Molly sat patiently beside her. They both watched Connie walk away and Sierra noted, he did not have a swagger. Nope. Just an even, powerful, confident stride. His back was straight, his legs long, his waist narrow. His arms must be sore, she thought. His back must ache. Even though she wasn’t heavy, he’d carried her for so long. And until today she thought his words sometimes had a little bite in them, but today, he was nothing but sweet.
He regretted mentioning the ex and she knew what that meant—he was still stung. He thought they had something in common, that failure to find a good partner. Ha! He had no idea! She hadn’t even thought about falling in love! She’d just been looking for a guy and, back in her drinking days, just about any man would do. They usually turned out to be creeps and users and liars, but not unlike she had been. Then that last one, the one she’d let into her life, the one who put her in danger, the one who left her in trouble, that one made her realize she’d been in no shape to have a man in her life. Not until she could stand on her own two feet, use actual clearheaded judgment, would she deserve the kind of man she really wanted. Needed. Could love for real.
At dinner, they told the story of how Maggie was lowered over a cliff to save Jackson Canaday, who had fallen, cracked his skull and lay unconscious on a precipice three hundred feet from the ground. If he came to and rolled around, he’d have fallen the rest of the way and be dead. If Maggie hadn’t been lowered down there to drill holes in his skull with an ordinary shop drill, he’d be dead. If the rope that dangled her down to that ledge had given way, she’d be dead. And then Connie and his paramedic team had gone after her, pulling her and the injured Jackson to safety.
He had just looked at his dinner, shy. Modest.
How many times a week was he a superhero, she wondered. How many women had he carried out of a burning house or across the trail for an hour? Because she wanted to be the only one.
She made no sense to herself.
Cal was walking toward her. He smiled as he passed Connie. She took the crutches and let him into her cabin and he waited for her to get in her pajamas—a T-shirt and boxers—then propped her foot up on a pillow and gently covered it with the ice pack. He pulled a couple of pills out of his pocket.
“Motrin,” he said. “Maggie checked with the urgent care and you can have two more—won’t wig you out or hurt your tummy since you had a nice dinner.”
“She called urgent care?”
“Uh-huh. Dr. Maggie is on a first-name basis with every doctor and nurse in town. I know you don’t mess around with the other stuff. But don’t suffer, Sierra. Call if you need something. Maggie can fix you up, maybe something better than Motrin but nonaddictive. Is your phone charged?”
“All charged. Will you please fill the water bowl for Molly?”
“Sure. Can you think of anything you need?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll give you a call tomorrow, maybe around lunchtime. If you need to go to town, I can take you. You can call the boss at the diner, right?”
“He’s going to fire me,” she said.
“Tell him you’ve got a good lawyer.”
She gave him a weak smile.
“Oh, you’re very tired,” Cal said. “I’m going to get out of here.” He gave Molly a pat and then watched as the dog got up on the bed beside Sierra, cuddling close. He just smiled and shook his head. “Be sure to call if you need me,” he said.
“It’s just a sprained ankle, Cal,” she reminded him.
“Call for any reason.”
“Just go home,” she said.
“Listen, stop moping and feeling sorry for yourself. You’re going to be fine. And in case you’re wondering, Connie is a good guy. He’s okay.”
She nodded and Cal slipped out the door.
“But I’m not,” she said to Molly.