“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 honoredher 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. Ithink 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.
