Chapter Six Jake
Chapter Six
Jake
“Time to head back, Rosie. We’ve done enough trail clearing for today.
Well, not we, but me. I’m the one who’s done all the work.
” She just lifts her head from where she has been lying, yawns, and then slowly gets up.
“I don’t know why you are even here. It’s not like I invited you. ” Her bark in reply makes me snigger.
I’m still not sold on the whole dog thing, especially picking up the dog shit, but I do have to admit, Rosie has been easier to handle than I was expecting.
And the look of love in Gran’s eyes when she speaks to her has me trying a little harder to become an animal-tolerant person.
I’m a long way from being an animal lover, but you could say Rosie is winning me over a little more each day.
“We can’t be late, because Gran will have the back porch light on waiting for us.” There are some things that Gran has been doing since I arrived here that make me feel like a child, but who am I to upset an old lady grieving the loss of her husband.
At least it won’t be much longer until my cousins arrive, and just in time as I’ve now completed the renovations on the barn.
Declan’s sabbatical has been approved. School finishes in June, so he’s aiming for late June or early July once he wraps up things at home, doing the handover to the new teacher and basketball coach that will relieve him.
Chase is away working on a photo shoot but promised Gran that he will head straight to Heatherbrae once it wraps.
Beckett, however . . . I mean, who knows?
I have put an intercom system in the house for Gran to contact the barn, so if she needs one of us when we’re here, she just has to push a button.
I’m pretty sure I’ll regret that decision, and the guys will be ready to punish me.
But surely the novelty will only last a few days, and then she will just use it when necessary. Or so I keep telling myself.
Today was another warm spring day, and you can tell we are getting closer to the summer heat, which I’m looking forward to.
This late-afternoon temperature is the perfect time for the hike I desperately needed to clear my head and cool off after yet another call to remind me that my life outside of Abbey Falls is something I’m trying to forget.
The days are stretching out, and the afternoon light is great to be sitting on the porch after dinner, watching the sun slowly set over the mountains like Gran and I have been enjoying, and probably will again tonight after I’m back from my hike and in a better frame of mind.
It’s these simple things that I never really got to enjoy in Sacramento.
Life moves a lot faster there than it does in Abbey Falls.
It’s definitely a benefit of spending some time here.
Now the barn is completed, I’ll start drawing up some rough sketches of where the restaurant and art gallery should be built and some potential sites for the small cabins that Gran wants for the family to use when we come home to visit.
It’s her way of reminding us that when this year is over, she still expects us all back more often.
Including all the girls and their kids too.
It still makes me stop and think about how easily the word home already rolls off my tongue when I talk about Heatherbrae. I should be saying “home for now.”
I readjust my backpack as I replace the tools and head back to Heatherbrae.
Walking back is a lot easier than the hike out now I’ve cleared a path, and I think even Rosie appreciates not having to dodge all the low-lying branches.
Stepping on a twig that cracks under my foot has Rosie letting out one of the loudest barks I’ve heard from her since she arrived at Heatherbrae.
“Really, it was just a twig. I made much louder noises when I was chopping with the machete before.” I turn, looking at her as I try to explain, but her bark has stopped and she’s standing rigid, looking intently into the dense woods heading toward the creek.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Again, she barks and starts to lift her nose into the air, sniffing and moving her head from side to side.
Feeling a little concerned, I go to slip my pack off my back so I can grab her leash just in case, but I’m too late.
Rosie bolts off into the bushes.
“Fuck, Rosie, come back!” I shout, rushing under the rough scrub because Gran will kill me if her dog gets hurt, or worse, disappears.
“Rosie, come back, you dumb dog,” I yell as I follow the sound of her constant barking.
“We had a deal, Rosie, if you get lost, I’m not looking for you, remember?” Yet it’s exactly what I am doing and I get angrier the farther from the track she gets, calling out to a dog who I know is not listening.
As I break through the denser section of trees and bushes, I come to the creek where I can spot her a bit farther up the bank. Her paws are dancing up and down, her nose in the air, and she’s sniffing like crazy.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you gone mad? Is that why your last owner got rid of you?” I storm along the side of the creek, and as I get close, she lets out another loud couple of barks but then stops abruptly.
I’m sure that she has scared away every piece of wildlife as the woods grow quiet.
And then I hear it. A faint cry for help.
“Is there someone out there?” I call as loud as I can.
“Yes, I’m here! Help, I need help!” A female voice is a little stronger now, and before I make it to Rosie, she’s running at speed across the creek and up the bank on the other side. It’s darker over there, so I lose sight of her through the trees.
“I’m coming. Keep calling and we’ll find you,” I shout as I’m running to where Rosie found the shallow part of the creek and the best place to cross. I jump from rock to rock, still trying to be careful because I’m no help to anyone if I slip.
As I clear the creek, I stop for a second and listen out for the voice, getting my bearings.
“Help . . . here.” The voice is getting louder, but Rosie has found her and is now barking loudly and repeatedly like a homing beacon.
Bursting through the last clump of shrubbery, I see Rosie being hugged tightly by a sobbing woman. But not just any woman.
“Ashley!” I exclaim as I rush to her.
“Ja . . . ke.” She’s crying so hard it takes two breaths to get my name out.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” I crouch down until I’m level with her face, and without being told, Rosie backs away a few steps. With a sense of urgency to comfort her rushing through me, I wrap my arms around Ashley and hold her until her crying subsides.
“Of all people it had to be you who found me like this . . . a blubbering mess,” she says into my shoulder where she has been making my shirt damp with her tears.
I pull back a little so I can see her face, although it’s getting harder in the darkness. I try not to acknowledge her comment or fuel the embarrassment she’s already feeling. “Are you hurt?”
“My ankle,” she gasps. “I’ve done something. I can’t move it. It’s stuck in the rocks.” Tears start welling up in her eyes again.
“Okay, let me take a look and we’ll get you free, then we can assess the injury.” I take my pack off my back and feel grateful all over again I remembered to pack a flashlight.
“Hold this, Ash.” I pass it to her so I have two free hands and inspect the two rocks her foot is caught in. They are wedged tightly, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up. “Can you shine it around us? I need a large stick to use like a lever and try to pry one rock loose.”
She does as she’s asked, her hand steady, and I realize this is the first time we’ve spent any time together and she hasn’t been yelling at me. Apparently, things do change. Though this isn’t exactly the way I had hoped . . .
The moment I spot a stick, I grab it and am concentrating so intently on levering up the rock I didn’t notice that Rosie is now beside Ashley, keeping her calm. She really is growing on me.
“Okay, once I get this rock loose enough, I’m going to lever it up.
And when I tell you to, I need you to get your foot out as quickly as possible.
” I look up at her as she stares back at me, those molten brown eyes swimming in tears that make me want to gather her up in my arms again. “Can you do that, Ashley?”
She nods solemnly, and I continue to loosen some of the tightly packed earth around the rock before finally levering it up just enough for her foot to fit through.
“Now, Ash!”
She pulls her foot out as quick as she can, and the moment it’s clear, I drop the lever and turn to check on her. The flashlight is now sitting on the dirt as she pulls her leg up toward her chest, feeling her ankle. I reach down and take the flashlight to press it back into her hands.
“Let me check it out. Stay still,” I ask her as soothingly as I can.
“Good. Good. There are scratches but no cuts, which is a start.” I gently feel her leg, starting at her knee down, and nothing appears to be too out of shape, and she’s not screaming in pain. But when I get to the ankle, she whimpers.
“Can you move it?” I ask and watch her slowly try to rotate it.
Her breathing quickens slightly. “It hurts, but I have movement,” Ash replies but winces as she continues.
With her having more idea about injuries than me, I let her lead the way.
“Do you think you will be able to put any weight on it?” I stand, trying to get myself into a spot where I can support her so we don’t end up at the bottom of the embankment.
“I doubt it, but I want to try.” She reaches her hands up for me to help her up from her awkward position on the ground.
“Take it slow.” Digging my boots into the earth, I pull her up and wait until she’s steady, but the moment she tries to put any pressure on her ankle, she collapses against me in pain.
My head is racing as I assess the situation.