Chapter 2 #4
"I think people are curious. And curiosity can be destructive, even when it's well-intentioned." He holds my gaze, and there's something almost pleading in his eyes. "Think about that. When it comes time to publish. That's all I'm asking."
It's a strange request, but not an unreasonable one. I've heard of researchers deliberately obscuring exact locations to protect sensitive habitats from amateur enthusiasts and opportunists.
“I will," I promise. "But if there is contamination, Hunter, people need to know. Especially the people living here. They have a right to understand if their water supply is compromised."
"I know." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Come on, let's get you checked out."
The visit to Urgent Care is mercifully efficient. The doctor—a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and graying hair pulled back in a practical bun—examines my ankle with practiced efficiency.
"You're lucky," she says, studying the X-rays. "No fractures, just a moderate sprain. But you need to stay off it for at least a week. I'm going to fit you with a walking boot for support."
"A week?" I can't keep the dismay out of my voice. "I have fieldwork to do."
"Not on that ankle, you don't." Her tone is firm but not unkind. "Trust me, if you try to hike on this before it's healed, you'll turn a simple sprain into something that needs surgery. Is that what you want?"
"No," I admit reluctantly.
While she's fitting the boot, she glances at Hunter, who's been standing quietly by the door. "Good thing you found her when you did, Hunter. It gets cold fast up in those mountains this time of year."
"It does," he agrees, and something about the easy familiarity between them makes me curious.
"How's your brother doing?" the doctor asks, adjusting a strap on my boot. "Rachel settling in okay?"
"Caleb's great. Wedding planning is driving him crazy, but he's happy." There's genuine warmth in Hunter's voice when he talks about his brother.
"Tell him congratulations from me." She secures the last strap and sits back. "There. Keep this on for the next week, ice it three times a day, and elevate it whenever you're sitting or lying down. Any questions?"
"When can I go back out in the field?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"In a week at the earliest, possibly two depending on how the healing progresses.
Come back if the pain gets worse or if you notice any unusual swelling.
" She hands me a printout of care instructions and a prescription for anti-inflammatories.
"And please be more careful out there. We're a small facility.
We can handle sprains and cuts, but anything more serious requires a trip to Asheville. "
The warning is clearly directed at me, and I feel appropriately chastised. "I'll be careful."
By the time we're back in Hunter's truck, full darkness has fallen. The streets of Parkerville are quiet, most businesses already closed for the night.
"Where are you staying?" Hunter asks as we pull out of the parking lot.
I give him the address of my rental house, and he nods like he knows exactly where it is. Of course he does. I'm starting to think Hunter Turner knows every inch of this area.
The drive is quiet, and I'm suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline has completely worn off now, leaving me shaky and drained. My ankle throbs despite the boot, and my clothes are still damp and uncomfortable from my fall in the creek.
When we pull up to the small cottage on the edge of town, Hunter insists on helping me inside, supporting my weight as I hobble up the front walk.
"Do you have everything you need?" he asks once we're inside, his eyes scanning the small living space with what looks like professional assessment. "Food? Water? Someone who can check on you?"
"I'm fine," I assure him, touched by his concern despite all my lingering questions. "I've got groceries, and my laptop. I'll be okay."
He doesn't look convinced. "You shouldn't be alone after an injury like this. What if you fall? What if your ankle gets worse during the night?"
"I'm a big girl. I've handled worse." It's not entirely true. I've never actually sprained anything before. But I don't want to seem helpless.
"At least let me give you my number." He pulls out his phone. "In case you need anything. Or if you want some help getting around for your field work."
I pull out my own phone, and we exchange numbers.
"Thank you," I say as he heads for the door. "Really. For everything. Finding me, the samples, the trip to Urgent Care."
"It's no trouble." He pauses in the doorway, and the porch light casts his face in dramatic shadows. For just a moment, I swear I see his eyes flash gold before he blinks and they're blue again. "Be careful out there, Ava. These woods can be dangerous, especially for someone alone."
"I will," I promise, though we both know my research will take me back into those mountains the moment my ankle heals.
"And think about what I said. About the publication." He meets my eyes, and there's an intensity there that makes my breath catch. "Some secrets exist for a reason."
Before I can respond, he's gone, the door closing softly behind him. I hear his truck start up, the rumble of the engine fading as he drives away.