Chapter Three
The parking lot at Eagle Mountain Search and Rescue headquarters was full by the time Rand pulled in Thursday evening. He had just had time to grab a quick shower and a sandwich before leaving for this first training meeting. His adrenaline was still revved when he stepped into the cavernous garage-like space and studied the group arranged in an assortment of chairs and old furniture angled toward the front of the room.
He spotted a few faces familiar to him from the previous Saturday’s rescue, but found himself searching for Chris. He spotted her in a far corner, at one end of a sofa, her dog, Harley, at her feet. He took the empty seat beside her. “Hello,” he said.
She eyed him coolly. “Hey.”
Harley approached and Rand petted the dog. He wanted the animal to trust him, even if his mistress didn’t. “How are you?” he asked.
“Fine.”
She wasn’t exactly unfriendly, just...guarded. Which only made him want to break through her reserve more. “I saw some of your paintings at a restaurant in town,” he said. “I really like your work.”
“They’re all for sale.”
“I might buy one. I’ve always enjoyed landscapes, and yours are beautiful—but they’re also complex.” He glanced at her arm and the artwork there. She wore a sleeveless blouse, revealing a tapestry of colorful flowers and birds from shoulder to wrist on the arm closest to him. Columbines, bluebells, foxglove, a bluebird, and a gold finch. The scene reminded him of one of her paintings. And yes, there, just above her elbow, half-hidden between a dragonfly and a sunflower, a woman peered out with large dark eyes, hiding and watchful. “Mysterious.”
“Hmmm. Not that I don’t like it when people say nice things about my work, but it’s not going to convince me to go out with you.”
“Can’t blame a man for trying.” He smiled.
She looked away.
“Let’s get started, everybody.” Danny spoke from the front of the room, and the chatter died down. “I’ll start by introducing our newest team member. Some of you already know Dr. Rand Martin, who assisted with our rescue of the injured hiker on Saturday. In addition to serving as our medical adviser, Rand has decided to join as a full-fledged volunteer.”
Scattered applause from the gathered volunteers. Rand nodded. Danny continued, “Just so you know, Rand’s a rookie, but he has a lot of experience. He served with a mobile surgical unit in Afghanistan and is the new director of emergency services at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Junction.”
More applause, and a few shouts of “Welcome!”
“You can introduce yourselves at the break,” Danny said. “Now, let’s get down to business.” He consulted the clipboard in his hand and read off a list of upcoming training opportunities, certification deadlines and local news. “The sheriff asked me to remind everyone that the annual Backcountry Base Camp rally is August 1 through 4. There’s also a scout group from Denver planning a wilderness-skills camp up on Dakota Ridge starting August 5. Both of those groups could mean more calls for us.”
“A bunch of kids playing with fire and knives?” a big man near the back of the room said. “What could go wrong?”
Danny smiled and waited for the chuckles to die down. “I’m going to turn it over to Tony now for our training unit on wilderness searches. For some of you this will be a review, but pay attention, because we have some new protocols based on the latest research. And for you newbies, know that you could be called to put this into practice any day now. We have a lot of wilderness we’re responsible for, and it’s easy for people to get lost out there.”
Rand pulled out a notebook and pen and settled in as a tall, thin man, his blond hair and goatee threaded with silver, moved to the front of the room. Chris passed Rand a sheaf of handouts. “Pretty much everything is on these,” she said.
“Thanks.”
He pretended to study the first sheet of the handout, but he was really focused on her. She was more relaxed than she had been Saturday, but she still had the hyperawareness he recognized from his time in Afghanistan. In a war zone, chaos could break out at any second, even in the middle of dinner or when you were trying to sleep after a hard battle. Soldiers lived on high alert, and being in constant fight-or-flight mode took its toll physically and psychologically.
But Chris wasn’t in a war zone. So why so tense?
The room darkened and Tony began his presentation. Rand forced himself to concentrate on the lesson. Apparently, people who became lost tended to behave in established patterns depending on their age, gender and history. “Knowing these patterns doesn’t guarantee we’ll locate them,” Tony said. “But it helps us establish a search plan and can increase the odds of finding them.”
Rand underlined phrases on the handout and wrote notes in the margin. And here he had thought his training would consist of learning to tie knots and reviewing how to administer first aid. He was so absorbed in the material he had to shake himself out of a kind of trance when the lights went up again. He checked his watch and was surprised to find over an hour had passed.
“We’ll break for ten minutes, then finish up this unit,” Tony said.
Chairs slid back and the hum of conversation rose. Rand turned to address Chris, but she was already out of her chair and moving across the room. Danny waylaid her, and the two fell into earnest conversation. Curious, Rand worked his way toward them but was stopped by other volunteers who wanted to introduce themselves. He made small talk, all the while working his way over to Chris and Danny, who stood in the hallway outside the restrooms.
Rand positioned himself in front of a bulletin board around the corner from them and listened. “I’m sorry,” Chris said. “I know I shouldn’t have disappeared like that, but it was an emergency. I got a call from my mom. She’s okay now, but I thought at first I was going to have to rush to her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Danny said. “I’ve been in that position myself. But next time, let someone know. Send a text or something.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Are you sure that’s all that’s going on?” Danny asked.
“Of course.” Rand thought he recognized a forced cheerfulness in her voice. He moved over to get a better look, and Chris collided with him as she came around the corner.
“Sorry,” he said, steadying her with one hand but immediately releasing her. She was skittish as a wild colt, and he didn’t want to upset her.
She stared up at him, eyes wide, then moved away. Rand watched her cross the room, half believing she would leave altogether. Instead, she stopped by a table of refreshments and began filling a plate.
She didn’t return to her seat until Tony had resumed the lesson. She slid onto the sofa beside him just as the lights went down, as if she had timed her arrival to avoid further conversation.
When the evening ended, Rand started after her but was halted by a trio of men, including the big guy who had made the remark about the scouts. They introduced themselves as Eldon Ramsey, Ryan Welch and Caleb Garrison. “Have you done any climbing?” the big guy, Eldon, asked.
“Only a little,” Rand asked.
“It’s a skill that comes in handy on a lot of the rescues we’re called out on,” Ryan said. “You’ll have training opportunities, but any time you want to get in some practice on your own, give us a shout.”
“We’re climbing in Caspar Canyon most weekends during the season,” Caleb said. “Come on out and join us anytime.”
“Thanks,” Rand said. “I’ll do that.”
The instructor for the evening, Tony Meisner, introduced himself next, along with Sheri Stevens, Jake and Hannah Gwynn, Grace Wilcox, and several others whose names Rand couldn’t remember. Everyone was friendly and offered to help him in any way they could. By the time the building emptied out, Rand had accepted that he wasn’t going to talk to Chris tonight. She would have left long ago.
Except, apparently, she hadn’t. He spotted her and Harley walking across the parking lot and headed after her while trying to appear as if he wasn’t in a hurry. She glanced over her shoulder at his approach but said nothing. The stiffness in her shoulders told him she was a few breaths from telling him to get lost. No sense wasting the opportunity with small talk. “Have you seen any more of the man who was watching you Saturday?” he asked.
She slowed her steps. “No. I must have been mistaken. He was looking at something else.”
She didn’t believe that, he thought.
“Mind if I walk you to your car?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Seconds later, they arrived at a dusty blue Subaru. She stopped and turned to him. Before she could say anything, he took a step back. “I’m not trying to be a creep or harass you,” he said. “If you don’t want to go out with me, that’s your call. But I saw that guy on the trail Saturday and how you reacted to his attention. If you need help or you just want to talk to someone, I’m here. That’s all I want you to know.”
Some of the stiffness went out of her posture, and she looked at him with less suspicion. “Thanks,” she said. “But it’s not really anything you need to worry about.” She clicked her key fob. The car beeped and flashed its lights, and she opened the rear driver’s-side door. “In you go, Harley.”
The dog started to jump into the car, then stopped and backed out, something in his mouth. “What has he got?” Rand leaned in for a closer look.
Chris took the object from the dog, and all the color left her face. She collapsed against the side of the car, eyes wide.
Rand took the item from her. It was a bird—a hummingbird, made of folded emerald green paper. “Is this origami?” he asked.
She nodded, the look on her face frantic now.
Still holding the paper bird, he reached for her. “Chris,” he said.
But she turned away, clutching her stomach, and vomited on the gravel beside the car.
He pulled her close, half-afraid she would collapse. She leaned heavily against him, shudders running through her. “Tell me why you’re so upset,” he said.
“I can’t.”
Seventeen Years Ago
T EN - YEAR - OLD C HRIS was seated at a folding table in a cold, drafty room, a stack of colored paper in front of her—pink, blue, red, orange, purple, green. Pretty colors, but looking at them didn’t make Chris happy. No one called her Chris then. They knew her as Elita. She willed away tears as she painstakingly folded and smoothed the paper to make a hummingbird like the model in front of her. “You need five thousand of them,” the woman across from her—Helen—said. “You will make some every day. And when you are done, it will be time.”
Tears slipped past her tight-closed lids and made a hot path down her cheeks. She tried to wipe them away, hoping Helen hadn’t seen. “What if I can’t make five thousand of them?” she asked. It seemed an impossibly large number.
“You will. You have a couple of years. It will take that long until you’re ready for the duties ahead of you.”
Chris shuddered. She didn’t want to think about those “duties.” Not that she had a terribly clear idea what those might include, but she had heard whispers...
She made a wrong fold, and the paper creased, the hummingbird crumpling in her hand. Helen took the mangled paper from her. “Start with a fresh sheet. Pay attention, and take your time.”
“Maybe I can’t do it because I’m not the right person,” Chris said. “Maybe I’m not worthy.”
Helen smiled. “You are the right person. You have been chosen.”
Choose someone else! Chris wanted to shout. But she only bit her lip as another tear betrayed her.
Helen frowned. “You should be happy you have been singled out for such an honor. You shouldn’t be so ungrateful.”
“I’m... I’m not,” she lied, and bit the inside of her cheek. Anything to stem the tears. She couldn’t let Helen see what her true feelings were. Even at her young age, she knew that was dangerous.
“Chris.” Rand snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What’s going on? Why are you so afraid?”
“I have to go.” She pushed him aside and slid into the car. Harley bolted in after her, climbing over Chris and settling in the passenger seat. Rand was talking to her, but she couldn’t hear him over the buzzing panic in her head. She drove away, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her fingers ached. She checked her mirrors every few seconds, but no one appeared to be following her.
When she was in her parking space in the alley behind the gallery, she made sure the doors of her car were locked, then laid her head on the steering wheel and closed her eyes, her whole body trembling. She never had made the five thousand hummingbirds. She had believed getting away had ended her ordeal.
But someone had pushed that bird through the gap in her car window. When she had parked at search and rescue headquarters, she thought the lot was safe enough for her to leave the rear windows down just a few inches to keep the interior cool. Jedediah, or someone else, had taken advantage of that, letting her know she could never truly escape. They were telling her it was time to fulfill what they thought was her destiny. The one thing she was determined never to do.