Chapter 5 Lara
Lara
I’d forgotten the bigness of Wyoming’s wilderness. The vast saffron plains that spread endlessly. The scabrous viridian-swathed mountains that stretched limitlessly tall. The lightless midnights that boasted the galaxy’s trove of stars. But the storms . . .
I’d forgotten more how summer thunderstorms rolled in at the end of every day like a curtain call of thunderous applause shearing the sky’s serenity. Last night’s storm hadn’t woken me, but instead kept me company, its tumultuous trembling equal to the turmoil of my thoughts.
My sister was missing. Maybe she was in the park. Maybe she was okay.
Maybe she wasn’t.
Worries deluged into fear. What if I was too late? What if I hadn’t done enough? What if I lost her for all the reasons I’d lost Ian?
Twelve years from now, I’d still lie awake at night searching for all the signs I’d missed. All the things I could’ve done. All the ways I’d failed Ian Mercer as his doctor that day. All the ways I worried I was now going to fail my sister.
There was no escaping the feeling of helplessness that snapped taut like a tether twining my past to my present. It was why I’d been desperate to go with Calder to the park.
I needed to be part of this. I needed to be doing something to save her. And maybe . . . just a little bit . . . I needed Calder’s steadiness to hold on to my sanity.
The sound of tires on gravel caught my attention, and I checked my phone. Eight o’clock on the dot.
I pushed off the hood of my rental as a black F-350 drove through the diner’s parking lot and stopped behind the Toyota.
The window rolled down, revealing the same grim expression Calder had left with yesterday. And the same rush of heat I felt every time I saw him, grim faced or not.
“Good morning.” The straight seal of his lips twitched.
“Morning,” I greeted, holding his gaze for a second before I looked away.
Calder was nothing if not perceptive, and I didn’t want him to see the dark circles around my eyes, because there was a strong chance he wouldn’t just see exhaustion under my eyes, but the emotional evisceration that had caused it.
I couldn’t afford to give him more ammunition for why I shouldn’t be going with him today.
“Ready? We’ll take my truck.”
My eyes cut back to him, his eyes narrowed enough to unnerve me. “Yeah, I just want to grab another coffee before we go.”
I’d already had one cup before leaving the Betty B and B that morning, but I needed more. Preferably poured directly into my sleep-deprived eyes, but the usual absorption method would have to do.
“Lara,” Calder called, stopping me before I even turned. “I made you a French press.”
He held up a travel mug from inside the cab, and my jaw went slack. He’d brought me coffee?
My exhausted emotions tangled further. That was Calder. Honorable to a fault. Thoughtful to a fault. Even when frustrated with me. It was hard to both admire and abhor qualities that in this moment made me feel warm and protected, but a dozen years ago had torn my sister’s heart apart.
In spite of all my anxieties last night, Calder hadn’t been one of them. I hadn’t worried that he wasn’t going to show up this morning. I hadn’t worried that he’d go to the park without me. I hadn’t worried because he’d given me his word, which was as unbreakable as stone. Literally.
There was only one worry I had about him. One thing that had woken me for different reasons and consumed my mind like a fever dream: the way my body responded when Calder was near and the way I fantasized about him when he wasn’t.
Calder cleared his throat, bringing me back to the moment. “I like Ron, but their coffee isn’t as good as mine.”
No, I imagined with all his gadgets and timers, it wasn’t.
“Got it.”
I locked my rental and rounded Calder’s truck, climbing into the passenger seat.
With my purse in my lap, I buckled in, noting the back seat was taken up with utility duffel bags; only the first aid bag, red with a white cross, was readily distinguishable, though I could hazard a few educated guesses as to the kinds of survival gear in the others.
“Which one is mine?” I asked, pointing to the two travel cups in the console.
“Back one.” Calder spun the wheel and steered out of the lot.
Dorsal venous arch. Dorsal metacarpal veins.
I grabbed my cup and brought it to my lips, forcing my eyes shut as I downed the first welcome sip.
Stop thinking about Calder’s anatomy. There wasn’t a test. Not when the answer to every question would simply be wrong. Wrong to think about my sister’s ex. Wrong to fantasize. Wrong to want. Wrong to everything.
The diesel engine growled as we headed toward Grand Teton National Park. The tops of the iconic mountains propped up the morning blanket of clouds like poles to a circus tent, the bright-blue sky underneath holding no trace of the ugly storm that had swept through last night.
“How was your night?” Calder asked stiffly, his eyes on the road.
“All right,” I answered as a speed limit sign flew by. Two, actually. Another thing I’d forgotten about Wyoming. There were two speed limit signs posted inside the park: one for during the day, and one for after dark.
“Storm keep you up?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “I forgot how bad they can be.”
They always said that to become a doctor, especially an ER doc, you acquired the ability to sleep anywhere, anytime, and it was true.
Two weeks ago, I would’ve slept through a storm like that without any problem.
Now, every time I tried to sleep, I was back in the emergency room, staring at that man’s face, feeling a kind of panic like I’d never known.
I had to wonder whether I’d ever be able to sleep well again.
I went to put my cup back in the holder just as Calder reached for his. Our hands brushed, the hot static stumbling the pattern of my pulse. Our eyes connected with a bolt of lightning that split wide all my thoughts for him to see.
“Sorry.” I quickly pulled away before he saw too much.
I’d prepared for a gamut of emotions yesterday on the way to see Calder.
I’d prepared for anxiety and uncertainty over whether he’d be able or willing to help me.
I’d also prepared for anger and distrust. For the twelve years since they’d broken up, I’d watched my sister’s romantic relationships devolve and destroy her.
She might not have told me every detail of what had happened, but I saw enough of the aftermath to prepare for more than a modicum of resentment toward the one good man who’d broken her heart.
But I hadn’t prepared for everything else.
Not the tingling in my skin, like his gaze inebriated my nerves. Not the uneven unspooling of my pulse whenever we touched, nor the warmth in my veins as though my body were fighting an infection—a disease of inappropriate desire. And definitely not the way I trusted him. Instinctively. Wildly.
“The storms get worse as the summer goes on,” he remarked. “Where are you staying?”
“The Betty bed-and-breakfast in Wisdom.”
Calder made a sound of acknowledgment, one I assumed was an approval, since he said nothing else.
The Betty was adorable. Quiet. And only about twenty minutes to Jackson.
The owners were an older couple. Very welcoming and sweet.
Hopefully, they didn’t hear my cries that always woke me from my nightmares.
I sat up taller, quickly compartmentalizing those thoughts as the large sign for the Moose Entrance flew by. “Wasn’t that what we wanted?” My head swiveled to follow the turn-off.
“No,” Calder replied and then paused, giving me a front-row seat to his internal debate over how much to explain.
“There are three entrances to the park, and a campsite within range of each, but there are only two designated areas for elk hunting close to the park. Zones seventy-five and seventy-nine. Seventy-five is to the right of us but back closer to the Moose Entrance. Zone seventy-nine is farther north than the Moran Entrance, which is where we’re headed. ”
“You think he’s staying at one of those two because he has a hunting permit,” I mused, my fingers drumming on the to-go cup. “Why start at the north one?”
It would’ve been easy to stop and check the one we’d just passed on the way.
“The Moose Entrance is the main entrance. The busiest and the most patrolled by rangers. With an expired registration on his truck—”
“It would be riskier,” I finished, a thrill running through me when he nodded.
“Track the person, not just their footprints,” he instructed with a low voice. “Understanding the mindset of your target usually reveals where to look next.”
Another rule.
I took another swig from my cup. Calder’s thought process was as satisfying as his coffee. It was sharp without being bitter. Smooth without being watered down. It was a treat. An anomaly.
“Do you think Brandon’s that smart?” I dragged my tongue over my lips.
Calder’s masseter flexed, his beard rippling. “I think people who regularly brush up against the law get pretty smart on ways to avoid it.”
“He’s been in trouble before?” I straightened, unease resting on my shoulders. “Did you talk to the police?”
Calder’s knuckles whitened where he gripped the wheel. “Minor stuff. Mostly parking violations and a few charges for possession.”
“Drugs?” I croaked.
“Just marijuana, but it’s illegal here, so he was tagged for it.”
My exhale escaped with just a little bit of tension.
Calder hit his blinker and let off the gas, approaching the Moran Entrance. Every time he turned the wheel one-handed, I stared for just a second too long and clenched my thighs a little tighter.
“Did you check his record because of me? Because I insisted on coming with you?” I had to be the reason for the added caution.