How Sweet It Is

by Wendy Vella

  “What’s happening, squirt?”

  “Not much. I’m staying with Jake and Branna for the next three days, ’cause my Gran is heading out of town to visit my sister and Connor’s working for you.”

  The kid was all knobby knees and elbows. His hair was smashed flat under a cap that was too big for him and looked like a reject of Jake’s.

  “It’s a hardship to eat Branna’s cooking, but what can you do?” Buster said, placing a stool beside the table for the boy to climb on.

  “Branna cooks way better than my Gran or Connor.”

  Which was just plain wrong, considering that Mikey’s brother helped Buster out and cooked like a dream when he wanted to.

  “Start bagging.” Buster handed over the bags and the trays of fudge he’d made up.

  He let the boy rattle on about school and the carnival and listened with half a mind while the other half was focused on Willow. Jake had said she was upset in The Roar, and that he believed she wasn’t a good enough actress to pull off manipulating anyone. Was that true?

  “Mikey, remember women can be tricky when they set out to get something,” he said, putting two cakes in the oven.

  “I know. Molly Downing said she liked me, but said she’d go to the carnival with Pete Smith.”

  If only life were that simple, Buster thought, ruffling the boy’s hair.

  “Brace yourself, Mikey. Sheriff Hawker has entered the premises,” Buster said, looking at Cubby. “What’s up?” he asked, noting the serious look on his friend’s face.

  “Someone’s gone over the edge on Brack’s Corner. I just had a van pull up outside my office. They saw a car go off the road but couldn’t get down to it because conditions underfoot were too treacherous. My concern is it’s cold, and whoever is in that car could be badly hurt.”

  “Mikey, you keep working, and I’ll get Connor to lock up.” Buster tore off his apron, grabbed his coat and hat, and moved toward the door with Cubby on his heels. “There are cakes in the oven. Get them out when the timer I set goes off. Lock up and take Mikey to Branna when you leave, Connor. I need to help the sheriff. A car’s gone over at Brack’s Corner.”

  “Will do,” the boy called.

  Buster was always part of the rescue team in situations like this. Newman, Jake and he had all trained for these kinds of emergencies.

  “Jake’s on his way with his bag and Newman, just in case we need help and whoever is up there needs treating. I have the cruiser loaded with everything,” Cubby said, getting into the driver’s seat as Buster climbed in on the passenger side.

  “At least you told Willow the road was closed,” Buster said before he could stop himself. His insides went cold at the thought of her lying injured up there.

  Cubby shot him a look before he spoke. “The thing is, Buster, the car they saw go over was a gray sedan.”

  “What? But you told her she couldn’t leave!” A fist tightened around his lungs, squeezing so hard he struggled to breathe.

  “I did, and she seemed to understand she couldn’t, but it’s a weird coincidence it’s a gray sedan like hers when she seemed to be in a hurry to get to Brook.”

  “God.” Buster ran a hand over his face.

  “It may not be bad, Buster. That part of the road is level, and then drops away. The man I spoke to said he couldn’t see the car when he looked, which probably means it’s just below the ridge.”

  “It could still have hit a tree, Cubby. The impact may have knocked her out if the airbag didn’t deploy.”

  “Don’t know why it wouldn’t deploy,” Cubby said in a calm, rational voice that did nothing to reassure Buster. As he started the car, he went on, “We kept Willow in The Roar for a while, Jake and me, and then Declan arrived and helped. Jake brought her a hat and scarf because she’d come in without one, then we gave her some mulled wine until she’d calmed down enough to leave. She said she’d wait till the road opened, so if it is her, something must have changed her mind.”

  She’d called his name, and he turned away from her. Was that what had changed her mind? Was he responsible for her car leaving the road? “Shit,” Buster said. He felt sick.

  “You two have a disagreement or something?” Cubby shot him a look as he pushed down on the gas pedal. Howling’s sheriff knew how to drive in every possible condition, so he would keep all four wheels on the road.

  Ignoring the question, Buster battled the visions filling his head. Was she injured, even now lying broken and unconscious in the snow? Had she been thrown from the car? Dear God, was she—no, he wouldn’t let himself go there. Willow was alive, maybe injured, but alive.

  His body hurt at the prospect of her in pain. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, and never wanted to again. The guilt that she might have left because of the way he’d treated her sat thick and heavy on his shoulders.

  The drive took a few minutes that felt like an hour by the time they saw the man standing on Brack’s Corner, waving his arms about. Buster was out before Cubby pulled the cruiser onto the shoulder.

  “Heard any sounds?”

  The guy shook his head. “Nothing, and the car is below the ridge, so it’s hard to get to it, let alone see if anyone inside is hurt.”

  It was cold and getting colder. Buster hoped whoever was down there was dressed for the conditions. Not Willow, he prayed silently.

  Jake and Newman pulled up just as he was getting the gear ready.

  “Can you see the car? Is it Willow?” Jake asked.

  “Can’t see, and I’m going down,” Buster said, and to his friends’ credit, no one questioned him.

  He pulled on a harness and let Newman attach a clip to it, then shrugged on the pack Cubby handed him. Next, he put on a thick pair of gloves.

  “No risks, Buster, and stay attached at all times.” Cubby handed him a two-way radio. “Stay in contact and report the minute you reach the car.”

  Buster nodded.

  “The light’s not good up here at the best of times, but even worse in the winter months,” Jake said. “Watch your footing.”

  “I know this stuff,” Buster told his friends as he walked to the edge of the road where the car had gone over. He saw tracks in the snow.

  “Yeah, well, maybe you do, but since that could be Willow down there, I’m not sure you’re thinking rationally.”

  Ignoring Jake’s words because they had a ring of truth to them, Buster let his friends lower him over the edge, and he started making his way down the slope. The snow wasn’t deep, but there was enough of it to make the going hard.

  “You see anything?” Jake’s voice came from above.

  “Not yet!”

  Buster let them lower him more and then he saw the car, Willow’s rental. It had stopped as it became jammed between two trees. If it hadn’t stopped there, the car would have kept going and would probably have ended up flipping.

  “Willow!” Buster roared her name as he ran to the car. He couldn’t open the driver’s door, so he reached for a rear door, but it was locked. The airbag had deployed, and Willow was lying with her head resting on the steering wheel.

  “Willow!” He banged on the glass, and she moved. “Thank you,” he whispered, relieved. He opened the pack and found a small hammer, then smashed the window.

  “Willow, it’s okay, baby,” he said reaching in to unlock the door after he’d cleared the glass. “I’m climbing into the car now.” He quickly unhooked his harness and got into the back seat. His weight wouldn’t move the vehicle because it was wedged tight with no chance of falling.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Buster?” Cubby roared at him through the radio. “Put your harness back on!”

  Ignoring the order, he moved between the seats. She had her head back on the headrest now, and he could see a trail of blood running down her forehead. Eyes closed, pale as snow, she was breathing fast.

  “Buster?” she muttered.

  “Right here,” he reassured her. “Where are you hurt?” He touched her face to
reassure both himself and her. She was cold, her cheek freezing to the touch, so he opened his pack, pulled out a thermal blanket and wrapped it around her body. Then he moved his hands slowly over her, checking to see if she was hurt anywhere else. “Talk to me, baby, I need to hear your voice.”

  “I-I’m okay,” she whispered.

  “Are you hurting anywhere?” Buster moved down her legs. They weren’t trapped and looked in good shape.

  “N-No.” The effort of talking was costing her, and he suspected her head was giving her hell.

  “Tell me your full name.”

  “W-Willow Moonbeam Harper.”

  Buster pulled out the two-way and spoke into it. “She’s okay and talking. Head knock, but the rest of her looks all right.”

  “Should we send down the stretcher?” Cubby asked. “And put your harness back on now!”

  “No.” Willow shook her head slightly and winced. “I-I can walk out.”

  “Yes, send it down.” Buster put down the radio and lifted her hair to inspect the cut. It was on the left side of her head; at a guess, she’d gotten it from hitting the window. A few inches long, the split was deep and would need stitches.

  “I-I want to w-walk.”

  “Do you know how steep you dropped?” Buster found his anger along with the medical supplies. “What the hell possessed you to take a risk and drive out today, especially when both Jake and Cubby told you not to?” He put a pad on the cut as it was still oozing, then wound a bandage around her head.

  “I wanted to leave.”

  “You have more brains than that.” He wanted to shake her, his anger was so strong.

  “Obviously I don’t.” She closed her eyes after that.

  “You’re going out in a stretcher, so get used to the idea.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “I need to get you into the back seat,” Buster said, then reclined the passenger seat and moved into the rear of the car so he could lift her over.

  “I can get there myself.”

  “My temper’s pretty riled, New York, so don’t push it.”

  “Why are you here? Where’s Cubby?”

  He could see the pain in her eyes and knew he shouldn’t yell at her, but he couldn’t seem to rein his temper back in. “It takes more than one person to rescue someone who’s foolish enough to go over the edge in a car, and I’m part of the rescue team.”

  Ignoring the hand he held out to help her, she wriggled in her seat until she was on her knees.

  “You’re cold and hurting, Willow, let me help you.”

  Instead, she grabbed the headrest and started to move. Buster reached for her as she hissed in pain, and lifted her over until she was resting against him. His anger slipped away as he felt her shiver. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close until Jake’s face appeared in the window.

  “Jake’s here, Willow.” He eased her out of his arms. “He needs to look you over now.”

  “Of course.” Her words were stilted as she pushed away from him, her eyes avoiding his. “Thank you for coming to get me out, and I’m sorry I put you to so much trouble.”

  Buster wanted to say something more, something that sat on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t get it past his lips. Then it was too late, because Jake was talking to her.

  “Do you hurt anywhere other than your head, Willow?”

  “No, and Jake, I’m s-sorry you had to rescue me,” she whispered.

  “No need to be sorry. Accidents happen, sweetheart. Now, let’s have a look at you.”

  Jake kept up a steady stream of talk about a shitload of nothing, which Buster guessed he had learned the art of doing over his years of treating people. He watched, impressed with the efficiency with which Dr. McBride Junior went about his work.

  “It looks like you’ve probably sustained a concussion, Willow. Your chest will be sore from the seatbelt, but other than that you seem okay but I’ll know more when we get you back to the clinic.”

  “Okay. Thank you,” she said in a polite little voice.

  “Let’s get you out of here now.”

  Buster and Jake got her onto the stretcher, then Buster covered her in the blanket and strapped her in. She was shivering hard now, her teeth chattering.

  “Wh-what if they drop me?”

  “Then I’ll catch you,” Buster said.

  The trip up was slow, with Cubby and Newman pulling her up, and Jake and Buster guiding her, but eventually they reached the top.

  “Annabelle and Dr. McBride are waiting at the clinic,” Newman said, unhooking Buster, then Jake. He then dropped down beside Willow and unhooked the stretcher. “You doing okay, Willow?”

  “Yes, th-thank you, Newman.”

  Buster could tell she was horrified by what she’d done. Her head was certainly killing her, but she wasn’t about to complain. In fact, he’d bet his new set of Wusthof knives that she wouldn’t even utter a moan if Jake’s mom stitched her head without numbing it first.

  “Let’s get her into the back of the cruiser,” Buster said, taking the end of the stretcher where her head was.

  “M-my things?”

  “We’ll get them out for you, so don’t you worry about that,” Cubby said, patting her hand.

  Minutes later Buster was in the back of the cruiser with her, and they were heading down the mountain toward Lake Howling. “Okay?” He took her hand in his, and she didn’t resist, nor did she respond; she just lay there with her eyes closed.

  “Yes, thank you,” she murmured after a minute.

  “Liar,” he said, touching her cheek. She turned her head away from him and didn’t look his way again.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Willow closed her eyes as Buster and Newman carried her into the clinic. She was horrified by the risks she’d taken. She had put all these people—who, barring Buster, had been nothing but kind to her—in harm’s way, and if it wasn’t for the pain in her head and chest she would have curled into a ball and hidden somewhere.

  “They’ll give you something for the pain now, Willow.”

  Willow heard Buster’s words but didn’t reply. When his voice had reached her in the car, she’d wanted to cry, then beg him to hold her against the solid wall of his chest and never let her go. Which just went to show how badly she’d banged her head, because he wanted nothing to do with her and had made that clear when he’d ignored her before she left Howling.

  God, she’d done a foolish thing, and now she’d pay the price by having these kind people look after her.

  “Let’s lift her onto the table.”

  Willow heard Jake’s voice but kept her eyes closed as they lowered the stretcher to the floor and unstrapped her, then she was lifted onto a bed in the clinic.

  “We’ll wait outside.”

  Willow identified those words as Newman’s, and then heard a scuffle of feet and the sound of a door closing.

  “Willow, I need you to open your eyes for me now.”

  The voice was female and belonged to Jake’s mother. Doing as she was asked, Willow winced as she looked up at the beautiful Dr. McBride Senior.

  “Annabelle and I are going to get you out of your clothes so we can examine you, okay?”

  “Yes.” She helped them as best she could, but her head was sore, and she was breathing heavily when she was finally dressed in one of the clinic’s gowns.

  The doctor checked her over and declared that other than her head, she didn’t seem to have any serious injuries, but she would be stiff and sore for a few days.

  “I’m going to ask you a few questions now, so we can see how badly concussed you are.”

  “Okay.”

  “I checked her eyes at the site,” Jake said.

  Annabelle moved to her head, and Willow wasn’t sure why, but she felt tears start to fall as a cool hand touched her cheek.

  “It’s going to be all right, Willow.” Annabelle talked to her softly as the doctors examined her eyes and the cut on her head before asking her som
e questions.

  “Willow, I understand that you have quite a talent with a sketch pad and pencil. Can you tell me the last person you drew here in Howling?”

  “I drew a picture for Annabelle,” Willow said.

  “Excellent. And before you left Howling, what was the last thing you did today?”

  Willow thought about that for a second, dug around in her head and came up with, “I saw Jake in The Roar.”

  “What did he buy for you?”

  “A hat, gloves and a scarf.”

  “Can you remember the last property or business you sold?”

  “No,” she whispered, trying to find that knowledge inside her head. “I can’t.”

  “That’s okay.” Jake patted her shoulder. “You did well with the more recent questions, and now Mom’s going to give you something for the pain and we’ll see about getting you into a bed here for the night. Unless you want us to contact your parents?”

  “Can’t I go back to the cabin?”

  “I’m sorry, but you can’t be alone tonight. We need to check on you regularly,” Dr. McBride Senior said.

  She was causing them more trouble because she had a bad feeling it would be Annabelle who had to stay here with her. She didn’t want to contact her parents, not after how she’d left things between them.

  “Thank you, Dr. McBride,” she said as the woman started to leave.

  “It’s not a problem. We’re all just glad you’re not badly hurt.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Willow whispered when she’d gone. “What I did was foolish and irresponsible.”

  Jake leaned over her as he rolled up her sleeve. “It was an accident. They happen, and like Mom said, we’re just glad you weren’t badly hurt.”

  “But you’ve all b-been so nice to me, and I should have stayed like you said.”

  “Why did you go?”

  Willow could hear Annabelle moving about behind her somewhere. “I had to.”

  “Okay, don’t get upset again,” Jake said gently. “Let’s get that head stitched up now, Nurse Smith.”

  They talked as they worked, and Willow could see their friendship in the way they did things, each move anticipated by the other until finally it was just Annabelle and Willow left in the room.