Birdee opened her eyes and looked at me with pain clouding her vision. “That’sssss meee.”
Shit.
The helmet that she’d been wearing was blocking most of her face and hair from me, and the winter coat was concealing the rest.
Had I seen her in the light of day, with her jeans and a long-sleeved tee, I could’ve told you who she was instantly.
I’d know those curves anywhere.
But the way she was bundled up—which made sense since she was riding a damn moped in the middle of winter—I couldn’t see any of those curves.
“I’ll call her the moment we get you on the bus,” I said.
“What bus?” She frowned.
“Ambulance,” I corrected. “You’re going to be going for a ride on an ambulance.”
“Great.” She grimaced. “Is my moped okay?”
I hadn’t spared a single thought for the state of her moped.
Moreso, what kind of crazy bitch was driving a moped in the dead of winter?
“I have no clue,” I said, even though it probably wouldn’t be seeing as it was tucked up underneath the front end of my cruiser.
“Dammit,” she grumbled. “How will I get to work now?”
That seemed like a later problem…
“Let’s focus on the state of your face,” I suggested. “Does your head hurt?”
She pursed her lips, her gaze slightly unfocused, and said, “The majority of my head feels fine. The front right side, however, feels like I hit your bumper.”
“That’s because you did, gorgeous…”
“What happened?” she groaned, shifting her legs from side to side.
“Well,” I said, “some dumbass decided to change their oil in their front yard. Then when they got done with their oil, they changed everyone else’s oil. Then when they were done, they dumped it down the storm drain.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I was actually out here running a call on a couple of baby moose covered in it. Seems they just dumped it into the drainage area, then sprayed water until they kind of sort of got it mostly down the drain.”
“You ran a call about some moose?” she wondered. “Really? Why would you be doing that?”
I backed up so that she could see the lapel of my jacket. “Montana FWP—Fish, Wildlife, and Parks—at your service.”
“Ahh,” she said. “I missed some baby moose in my neighborhood?”
“You did,” I said. “They’re gone now. Tranqued mom and babies and got them cleaned up. They were here most of the morning.”
“Dangit, I always miss everything,” she grumbled.
The ambulance was closer now. Close enough that I could now see the lights.
“There they are.” I blew out a breath of relief.
“I think I’m probably going to be just fine,” she said. “I think I can skip going to the hospital. I have to go let my stepsister’s dog out anyway.”
