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Trapped with the Woodsman

Page 2

by M. S. Parker

I considered it, then tapped in a response.

  That’s when things start getting busy. Might be better to plan it around one of my off-weekends and I can just request Friday off. You can’t handle being away from society for more than a couple days anyway.

  I laughed when her response came up.

  I resemble that remark. So…I was thinking. Would you mind if Ryder came with me? I’d like you to get to know him better.

  I’d met her new boyfriend only a few months earlier, and I had liked him well enough. I wasn’t sure I wanted him crashing my time with my cousin, but I couldn’t exactly say no, either. At least, not without feeling bad.

  Sure, that’s fine. As long as Mr. Mega-bucks realizes we’re actually hiking. This isn’t one of those rich people camping get-a-ways that have heated yurts and all that shit.

  Breanna sent me back a laughing emoji.

  He can probably outpace you, darling.

  I rolled my eyes. As if. I checked the time on my phone and tapped back a quick response before finishing off my coffee.

  I need to go. Gotta shower and get to work.

  Breanna replied before I’d even escaped the message app.

  Go stop those pic-a-nic basket stealing bears, cuz.

  With a grin, I shoved the phone into my pocket and headed inside to shower.

  The morning passed so fast, I barely had time to blink. I had only just gotten inside and clocked in when a commotion exploded up front. I shoved my bag into my locker and headed out to find the source of the chaos.

  A young woman with heavy plaits of dark hair was holding a little boy, and both were splashed with blood.

  The blood was coming from his forehead, it looked like. She was holding something wadded up and shoved against the boy’s brow, and from what I could tell, it was already soaking through.

  I caught the eye of one of the rangers near her and jerked a thumb toward the back, letting him know I’d get the first aid kit.

  I darted back through the employee only door and rushed down the hall. It only took a moment to find the over-sized kit. It looked more like a fishing tackle box than anything else, but the bright red box was stocked well-enough to take care of any number of minor accidents and emergencies. I also grabbed the box of gloves that was kept ready next to the kit.

  Once back in the main area, I put the kit down and tugged a pair of gloves on, moving closer to the mom and son.

  I caught the boy’s dark eyes and gave him a sympathetic smile. He continued to wail. No doubt hurt, but I suspected he was also scared.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I told him as I moved closer.

  I was less than two feet away when a male form cut in front of me. “Hey there, little fella!”

  I mentally grimaced at the familiar voice and braced myself as a fellow ranger and all-around asshole, Stilwell Jenner, started speaking to the boy, his voice big and booming.

  “Jenner,” a firm voice said from the other side of the counter.

  I flicked a look at our supervisor who was staring pointedly at Jenner’s ungloved hands.

  As he glanced down, trying to see what the problem was, I grabbed the kit and moved around him.

  The panicking mom saw me and her eyes, bright with unshed tears, focused on the red kit I was carrying.

  “Are you a paramedic or something?” she demanded.

  “I’m a little bit of everything,” I told her. “I’ve had the basic EMT training, and I took a few other courses. If you’ll let me, I’ll look at your little guy there.”

  She nodded, almost desperately.

  “Come on,” I said, gesturing her over to the nearest chair.

  It happened to be behind the main desk, and as she sat down, one of the other rangers brought me a seat as well. I kicked it closer and put the kit down on the counter, giving the little boy a gentle smile.

  His panicked cries had calmed somewhat, and now that his mother was getting herself together, he seemed to settle even more. I flipped open the kit and riffled through it, pulling out what I thought I’d need as I spoke to the mother.

  “Did he trip and smack his head on something?”

  “Yes.” She took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, “He hit the corner of a bench out front. He was running – he saw a lady with a companion dog, and he wanted to pet him. I went chasing after him, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

  “It’s amazing how fast these little guys can be, isn’t it?” I gave her a reassuring smile as I tore open a couple of large gauze pads. “Okay, let’s take a look.”

  Sensing somebody behind me, I darted a look over my shoulder, hoping it wasn’t Stilwell. To my relief, I met the faded gray eyes of my supervisor, Lance Hawthorne. I redirected my attention back to the boy and his mother. I gestured for her to remove the cloth she’d shoved against it – a shirt, from what I could tell.

  As soon as she pulled it away, the blood started seeping from the small, jagged laceration on the child’s forehead. “Why won’t it stop bleeding?” she said, her voice terribly small and scared.

  “Head wounds always bleed a lot,” I assured her. I pressed the gauze to the injury, soaking up the fresh blood and tentatively clearing the area around it so I could take a look. “Honey, you’re going to have quite a goose egg there.”

  He struggled in his mother’s arms, and she tightened her grip. “Be still, Devonté,” she chided. “Be still and let the nice lady take care of you.”

  He continued to squirm and cry softly, and she gave me an apologetic look.

  “It’s fine.” I swiped another piece of gauze across his skin, clearing away a little more blood.

  “I’ve got something I can use to close the wound for now, but I think you should get him looked at by the local ER. He could probably use a couple of stitches.”

  Panic tightened her features again, and I gave her a reassuring smile. “It will be okay. I doubt he’ll need more than a few.”

  By the time the local paramedics arrived to ferry Mama and child to the closest ER a good thirty minutes away, the boy had stopped crying and had fallen asleep. His mother looked like she could use a nap too. She looked completely overwhelmed.

  It was an expression I’d seen before, and usually in similar circumstances. A nice day at the park ruined after tripping and twisting an ankle, a camping accident that resulted in a burned hand. This was the third time in the eighteen months I’d been with the park that a child had come in with his head busted open after tripping and falling, hitting something.

  As I was gathering up the trash, Stilwell came up to stand next to me. “You know, he probably didn’t need to go to the emergency room, Alex,” he said, his voice condescending as usual. “You overreacted, and you’re going to cost that family quite a bit of money over a little scratch.”

  I slanted a look at him, irritation bubbling up inside. The reasons for my ire was two-fold. Stilwell had only basic CPR and first aid training, so he really wasn’t in any position to be questioning me in this area. And…my name wasn’t Alex.

  I gave him a short look. “The name is Lexi, Stilwell. Why is it so hard for you to remember that?”

  “Sorry.” He said it without sincerity and continued on to say, “It just seems…well, you wanted to work in this field. Seems the name Alex would suit you better.”

  I didn’t bother responding to that comment. He’d made it more than clear that he didn’t think women belonged in ‘manly’ fields, like being law enforcement officers, doctors, lawyers…or rangers. Women belonged in front of a classroom, taking orders from a male doctor, or at home in the kitchen cooking.

  I wasn’t just speculating on that, either. He’d made it more than clear that he believed those very things.

  I believed Stilwell was an asshole and not one I wanted to be bothered with. Sadly, I too often got hooked up with him as we patrolled the park, and today would be another one of those days.

  “You did a good job, Lexi.”

  At my supervisor’s words, I looked up and
nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Hawthorne,” Stilwell started in an ingratiating voice, “it’s not very likely that kid needed to get stitches, or ride in an ambulance–”

  “I thought you opted out of the advanced first aid training we provide,” Hawthorne said, directing his attention toward Stilwell.

  Stilwell cleared his throat. “It doesn’t take a medical degree to know that head wounds can be scary, but scary doesn’t mean emergency.”

  “Uh-huh.” Hawthorne studied Stilwell for a minute. “Well, in this case, I think erring on the side of safety is the better option. The kid’s poor mom was shaking so bad, she could have very well driven off the road and not realized it until it was too late.”

  Stilwell looked like he wanted to say something else, but Hawthorne shifted his attention back to me. “As I said, good job, Lexi. Appreciate the level head and quick work.” He checked his watch, then nodded at us. “It’s about time for the two of you to hit the road.”

  Although I’d expected it, Stilwell was more of an ass than usual, thanks to the morning’s events. He was driving with far too much recklessness as we did patrol, taking corners far sharper than needed and speeding around the vehicles of the park guests who were out trying to enjoy the chilly spring day before another snow moved in.

  By the time we were ready to eat our lunch, I was convinced I’d rather hike the entire rest of the way back than climb into the Jeep with Stilwell for even five more minutes.

  Sadly, I didn’t have that option. We still had to finish up our route and check a few camp areas before heading back. Hoofing it on my own just wasn’t viable.

  The temperature continued to drop throughout the day, and by the time we were at the last campsite on our route, it was downright cold. My breath came out in a puffy plume as I walked the perimeter of the now vacated camp. We’d had to give weather warnings to several die-hard outdoor lovers, but for the most part, few wanted to stay overnight when there was a snow forecasted.

  “That was a fat waste of time,” Stilwell announced from behind the steering wheel as I slid into the Jeep. I’d just finished making my rounds about the camp while he stayed in the nice, warm vehicle. “It’s pretty obvious nobody is here.”

  I bared my teeth at him in a sharp-edged smile. “We visit the campsites for more than just informing visitors about the weather,” I reminded him.

  He rolled his eyes.

  I ignored him and reached into one of the zippered pockets on my coat, fishing out my gloves. As I tugged them on, I listened to the updates and chatter coming from the radio. All the park vehicles were equipped with one. There were a lot of areas in the park that didn’t have cell phone towers, and the most reliable way to communicate was via radio.

  There were reports of a lost child, and Stilwell groaned as I turned up the volume to listen. As I tried to focus on the report being given, Stilwell complained. That was nothing new – he always complained, but today’s complaints seemed mostly centered around kids and why so much work was dumped on us because of irresponsible parents.

  “You’ve never seen how fast a four-year-old can move,” I said in a dry tone after listening to him vent for nearly five minutes.

  “No four-year-old can move faster than I can,” he stated. “If these people would just watch their kids better…”

  The radio crackled, and he lapsed into silence as I turned the volume up a little more. The words were half-lost in the static.

  But soon a grin spread across my face.

  “Child has been located.”

  Stilwell snorted. “Sure was lost. The alert went out all of ten minutes ago. Walk around for five minutes, then give up and call us?”

  I personally would rather parents do that than risk wasting precious minutes that could be used to locate the child – or risk the parents getting lost on top of the kid.

  But I kept my opinion to myself.

  Settling more comfortably into the faux-leather of the seat, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared out at the terrain that was slowly becoming more and more familiar to me. After eighteen months of living right at the base of the Rockies, I was still in awe of the beauty of this place. I’d grown up in Colorado Springs and had been surrounded by these mountains all my life. And still, every day, I fell a little more in love.

  Stilwell griped for another couple of minutes, but when I didn’t respond, he also lapsed into silence, letting me enjoy the rest of the drive back.

  It took almost forty-five minutes, and by the time we parked the Jeep, clouds had gathered overhead, an ominous display that left me wondering just how much snow might get dumped on us. Although there were still a couple of hours before sunset, the clouds made it far darker than normal for this time of year.

  The wind whipped at my ponytail as I headed inside, not bothering to wait for Stilwell. I had to take care of my paperwork for the day before relieving Amy at the desk in the visitor’s center.

  It was promising to be a boring evening, as evidenced by several of my fellow rangers milling around the center, talking to each other or checking their phones. I saw only two visitors. They looked to be a couple, and Amy was talking to them, her bright, animated face more reserved than normal.

  The couple turned to leave, and I caught sight of the crestfallen look on the woman’s face.

  “Weren’t prepared for snow, huh?” I asked Amy as I moved behind the counter. It felt good to be out of the Jeep and not just because it got me away from Stilwell.

  “Nope,” she said cheerily. She continued to stare out the window, and I followed her gaze. We both breathed a sigh of relief as the couple backed out, then headed back in the direction of the park entrance and Estes Park.

  “Thank God,” Amy muttered. “I don’t think anybody wants to be looking for a couple of lost tourists tonight or tomorrow.”

  I nodded my agreement as Amy maneuvered her wheelchair out from behind the main desk.

  “Hold up, Amy,” Hawthorne said as he pushed through the door separating the visitor’s area from the employee space. “Can you hang around a while longer?”

  She made a face. “I can. The question is…will I?”

  “Will you?” he asked. No smile cracked his face as he nodded at me. “I need Lexi and all other hands on deck. We just got a report of a small private plane going down not too far from here.”

  “Again?” Stilwell said, disgust in his voice.

  Amy sighed and pushed her hair back from her face. “I can handle the front desk.”

  As I passed by her, I rested a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me with a faint smile. “Guess we spoke too soon, didn’t we?”

  “Yup.” I headed toward the back, not bothering to wait for Hawthorne who’d moved to speak with Stilwell. I swear, if I got paired with him for a search and rescue, I was going to rip my hair out.

  Four

  Roman

  I should have done this shit earlier.

  The temperature had been dropping throughout the day, and by the way the sky looked, I could tell we were in for at least one more snow before winter was done with us. Although I doubted it would be anything serious, I wasn’t going to chance running out of wood, either.

  I had a generator in case the electricity went out, but I knew from experience it wasn’t a good idea to have just one back-up. Generators ran on gas, after all, and I didn’t exactly live in town. If I ran out of gas, I could be seriously fucked without another source of heat.

  Besides, I had only so many things I could do to keep my mind occupied.

  Bringing the ax down on the log, I tried to blank my mind. It wasn’t easy. If my parents hadn’t been killed in that car wreck eighteen years ago, their fortieth wedding anniversary would have been today. But they were gone, just like everybody else in my life.

  Not everybody, I reminded myself. Cass was still there. Thinking of her had me checking the time. I still had close to two hours before I had to leave for the airport. Shooting another look at the sky, I
hoped the weather held long enough for them to land. Cass was coming in on a small private plane I’d helped her charter for a job in Jackson, Wyoming.

  She was trying to build up a customer base as an event coordinator, and a friend of her family had hired her to handle a wedding. There was a catch, of course. The wedding was in Jackson, and the bride had asked her if she could travel there for a few of the meetings. The bride’s family was as rich as Croesus, and both the bride and her mother had assured Cass that she’d be reimbursed, but she hadn’t wanted to let them know she didn’t have the capital or the credit to cover the initial expense.

  I’d already offered to give her some operating capital, but she hadn’t accepted. She did relent some when I pressed for her to let me handle chartering the plane, although she insisted she’d pay me back.

  I’d have been happier to get her on a commercial flight, but the bride hadn’t wanted to wait so we’d gone the private route.

  I didn’t like big planes, much less, small ones. I knew all the safety stats for aircraft, large and small, but even though I’d traveled that way all over the world multiple times, I still didn’t care for planes. I like my feet on the ground. I also liked for the people I cared about to keep their feet on the ground.

  Telling myself not to worry about it, I finished splitting the log and tossed the halves onto the pile at my right. I grabbed another and started the process all over again.

  Despite my attempts to block out any sort of thought beyond the focus needed for the task before me, my mind kept wandering back. I could remember times my parents had celebrated their marriage, Mom dressed up in her best dress while Dad wore the suit she’d nagged him into donning, them smiling on their way out the door.

  They’d been smiling like that the last time we saw them.

  That thought had me fumbling, and I stopped mid-swing. With a growl, I drove the blade of the ax into the tree stump under the log. I turned away from the log and shoved overlong hair out of my eyes.

  Brooding, I stared out over the land in front of me. This piece of property had been in my family for generations. Next to Cass, this was the only thing in the world that mattered to me. But sometimes, I hated being there.

 

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