Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
HAILEY
“ C an you believe this place? I’ve never seen so many tents in my entire life,” Ben says as he hammers the fifth and final pole into the packed dirt and feeds the end through the corner pocket of the canvas. He pulls tight and the pentagon domes over our heads.
I eye his handy work. “Not bad.”
“Not bad? This thing looks like it came from—” His sentence stops short when he realizes I’m complimenting him, not teasing. “The circus,” he finishes. “And thank you.”
He pulls at the collar of his uniform.
“It does look like it came from the circus. Imagine the sort of magic tricks we could perform in here.” I wave an ear thermometer in a series of embellished loops.
“If you call taking care of poison oak or wrapping a sprained ankle a magic trick.” He chuckles.
“Hey, not everyone knows how to do those things.”
“But everyone does have Google,” he says.
“Not out here they don’t.”
We’ve already had this conversation. It’s not that I’m excited for someone to get hurt, but I don’t do well sitting around all day.
I can’t be on the fire line either. Reed’s out there working with the crew, and he’ll be all distracting with his tight pants and his panty-dropping dimple. I need to keep my underwear right where they are, thank you very much.
Arms full of supplies from the ambulance, Ben asks, “How long do you think this will go on for?”
“My dad was on the same fire for months one summer.” I feel around with the toe of my boot for the nearest worktable. When it connects with a metal leg, I empty my arms on the surface. I yelp as a first aid kit clatters open and look up to find Ben’s grinning face three feet from my own.
“I’d be okay with it,” he says. It’s followed by one of those long pauses and a look that implies something words don’t even need to say. I squirm.
I’m going to be spending a ton of time with this guy. Potentially days on end alone in this tent. If I don’t come out and tell him that nothing will ever happen between the two of us, he might get the wrong idea from sheer proximity alone. As I’m about to squash the grin plastered on his face with honesty, he changes the subject.
“What got you into the EMT field anyway?”
A loaded question that involves telling him about the dad I’m trying to be closer to and the mom I never knew.
I give him the second-best truth. “I like helping people.”
“You’re a fixer,” he says.
“An altruist,” I remind him. “What about you? I know you didn’t get into this field for the occasional poison oak on a slow day.”
Judging by the set line of his mouth, he doesn’t want to answer that question any more than I did .
“A car accident.”
I melt my back against the table, and he does the same.
“It was my senior year of high school. My girlfriend and I were on our way to the homecoming football game.”
A whoosh expels from my lungs and coils around the room, making it feel smaller somehow.
“A drunk driver crossed the median on the interstate and hit us head-on.”
I suck in a breath. “I’m so sorry, Ben.”
I don’t know what compels me to reach for his hand, but I do. Maybe it’s the altruist thing. Or that I know what it’s like to live without someone you love.
I may never have met my mom, but I loved the idea of her. She lived on in every crevice of our home, from the cookbooks my dad never used, to the photograph of her pretty face holding me in a hospital bed. It used to sit on my nightstand, but it disappeared just like the smell that once clung to her clothes in the closet. I haven’t thought of that photograph in a long time.
He accepts my gesture as I cradle his palm.
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he says. “I just remember it took forever for any kind of medical team to arrive. I’ve replayed the scenario over and over in my head, thinking if they could have just gotten there faster… but after all the medical training I’ve done, I know that she didn’t stand a chance. She wasn’t wearing a seat belt, and the windshield glass severed her carotid artery.”
She bled out in minutes , I fill in for him. He stares off toward the tent wall, and I squeeze his hand once, letting him know I’m still here, still listening.
“I like to believe that had I been prepared, maybe I could have slowed it down. Given her enough time to call her parents. Given them the goodbye they deserved. Instead, I’ve honored her memory by making it my life’s mission to be as prepared as possible. I took all of the emergency training Unitek EMT had to offer.”
“Arizona? How did you end up here then?”
“It was this little brochure we found on the table of a diner once. McCall, Idaho , it said across the front. Picturesque mountains painted the cover. We decided right then and there we were going to move here together when we graduated. She liked the mountains, and I liked to ski. It seemed like a good fit. I know some of our friends and family would say I’m crazy to come all the way here without her. But it makes me feel closer to her, ya know?”
“Boy, do I know,” I say.
“Your turn. How did you get this job?”
“I’m… from McCall.”
I don’t tell him the part about moving back here just to be closer to my dad. Even though he must know we’re related by now, I hate admitting it out loud.
“I think Meredith would have liked you.” He smiles, brushing his thumb over my knuckles.
A groan echoes from the tent’s entrance. When we both look up, the blond crew member I haven’t met yet is slumped against Reed. Soot covers their bodies from head to toe. I pull my hand back to my lap, but it’s too late. Reed tracks the motion.
“What happened?” I ask, pointing toward the empty gurney.
Reed takes slow calculated steps, accommodating his hopping friend.
“You’re the one who diagnoses injuries, Red,” he says, dumping the guy on the vacant gurney and folding his arms.
What’s his problem?
“Jumped from a tree branch and came down on it wrong. I think it might be sprained,” Ken Doll moans. “I’m Wells Evans by the way.”
I swear his teeth glint, even with the lack of sunlight.
“Was that so hard?” I ask in a clipped tone to Reed.
“I didn’t see it. Just volunteered to bring him in here.” I catch Reed glaring at Ben.
“Volunteered, huh?”
He stares at the exit as if he’d rather die than be in here right now.
“Not the time for flirting people,” Evans groans. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to get this boot off if we leave it for much longer. Is it cutting off the blood supply to my feet?”
I lift his pant leg and expose an ankle the size of an apple. Ben squats down next to the injury as I gently roll it from side to side to check his mobility.
“Looks like a nasty sprain,” Ben says.
“What do you think?” Reed asks me.
Is he… jealous ? I’m not sure how else to explain him dismissing Ben like that, but there’s no time to analyze Reed’s motive.
“Ben’s right. It’s sprained. Good news is, with elevation and ice, we should be able to get the swelling down in a few hours.”
“You good, Evans?” Reed asks as I work the laces open and ease his boot off from the heel.
“Yeah. Thanks, man,” he says.
“Is that all you need from me?” Reed asks me.
I study him. This is not the same guy who stayed and helped the old woman on the airplane. His friend is injured and he’s diving for the tent exit.
“Didn’t know you wanted to be taking orders from someone else. But yes. You’re dismissed, Morgan.”
He scrubs at the back of his neck and turns on his heel, leaving the tent ten times faster than when he came in .
“Wow. I’ve never seen that guy not smiling,” Evans says. “It’s kind of a tragic sight.”
“Me neither,” I add, wondering who it was that destroyed Reed’s confidence in relationships.