Stunned, he simply stared.
“Up here, supplies can be the difference between life and death.” She grinned. “And no worries. I brought extra for you.”
Well, she was the expert, he’d give her that. “So do you get a lot of medical emergencies in the mountains during the summer?” Ben asked.
“In a word? Yes. During the summer there are amateur bicyclists, rafters, hikers, campers, bird watchers and photographers all pitted against Mother Nature. Mother Nature generally wins.”
“Hadn’t considered that. But aren’t there, like, forest rangers to help?”
“Are you serious? This is the edge of the Rio Grande National Forest. It’s the largest alpine valley in the world. The rangers do a huge amount of conservation education besides monitoring something like over a million acres of land. They have plenty to do besides first aid.”
“Whoa. I guess so.” He opened the back of the Land Rover, shoved in the duffel and was preparing to close it when she called out.
“Hang on. I want to get the sleeping bag from the front seat.”
“Sleeping bag? Now we’re camping?”
“Just a precaution, Ben. Once we leave the city limits, cell phone service is pretty much nonexistent. You just never know.” She tossed the roll toward him.
“Apparently not,” he said as he caught the nylon sack.
“Do much hiking?” Sara asked. She pulled a tube of sunscreen from one of her roomy cargo pants pockets and slathered it on her arms and face.
“Hiking? Why?”
“Just thinking about our itinerary.” She capped the bottle and handed it to him.
“I walk from the gym to my car.” He shrugged. “Does that count?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take it easy on you today.”
Ben patted his abdomen through his shirt. “I’m not exactly out of shape.”
Sara chuckled. “I wasn’t trying to emasculate you. Climbing and hiking in this altitude takes some adjustment. I’m suggesting we take it slow. We’ll do more next time.”
“Next time?” Ben asked. He lifted his brows.
“I consider it my duty to make you as familiar with these back roads and hills as I am.”
“I thought this was a driving tour.” Now he was getting worried. He wasn’t prepared to perform.
“It is, but we have to be prepared. You never know when the weather will change up here. Thunderstorms. Hail. Flash flooding. Oh, and I want to show you a few things off the beaten path.” She wagged a finger. “And that, my supposedly fit friend, will require walking.”
“Don’t worry, I’m fit enough for that,” Ben said, relieved.
“So you like outdoor recreation?” Sara asked.
“In small doses. I grew up camping. I like things a little more civilized now. But let me guess. You like activities that are measurable.”
“Measurable?” Sara cocked her head.
“Yeah, where you can measure yourself against something.”
“How did you guess?”
“My sister was like that,” Ben said. “In fact, she had to stop wearing a watch when she went running because she kept timing herself and discovered she was no longer enjoying the beauty of the run.”
“Oh, I can so relate,” Sara said with a laugh.
“You’re a lot like her,” Ben mused. “Carolyn used to beg me to run with her just for the satisfaction of beating me. And she did. Every time.”
He paused, staring out the windshield, stunned to discover he’d just talked about his sister. For the first time since her death, he was able to just think about the good times without being chased down by the agonizing guilt.
“I think I’d like your sister.”
Ben looked at Sara. “Yeah. You would.”
Sara and Carolyn could have easily become friends. They both had the same sense of humor and optimistic outlook, along with the same stubbornness and competitive streaks.
The thought made him smile.
* * *
“Lots of tourists,” Ben commented, as another vehicle with out-of-state tags zipped past them.
Sara turned in her seat. His baseball cap was slightly skewed and his expensive sunglasses were dusty. Yet despite himself, she could tell Ben was having fun today. He’d stopped trying to hide it about an hour ago at the last parking turnout when she’d forced him to pose for pictures. She didn’t know why, but there was immense pleasure involved in helping the stuffy Dr. Ben Rogers chill out.
“The population around here quadruples to over four thousand visitors during camping season,” she told him. “Thankfully that’s a small window—between May and the end of September.”
“Well, that would explain all the RVs.”
“Uh-huh. And that window is just long enough to keep things really busy at the Paradise E.R.”
“Which is a good reason for the clinic to have a twenty-four-hour urgent care,” he added.
“Yes. Along with our one-day-a-month free clinic,” Sara said, unable to hold back her excitement. She pulled a notebook out of her purse. “I’m writing all this down.”
“Don’t forget to document that I hiked from that point of interest to the top of the trail,” Ben said.
“I was talking about the clinic, but I’ll be sure to add you to my list.” Sara laughed. “It was worth it, wasn’t it? The view was amazing.”
“Amazing, definitely. But you’re right. My lungs aren’t acclimated enough for a hike at ten thousand feet. I should have brought my O2 tank with me.”
“You’ll be in shape in no time.”
There was a long pause as the unsaid words drifted between them like a ribbon of smoke silently dangerous and threatening. In no time. The same no time it would take for the clinic to open and for one of them to get the job. And the other?
Sara pushed the thoughts out of her mind. No, she didn’t want to think about that right now. She liked Ben, and she was glad for this opportunity to get to know him better. She didn’t want to wish the time with him away—no, she definitely intended to savor the time, because as much as it seemed they had some basic philosophical differences, she was discovering they also had a lot in common.
“Do you want me to drive?” she asked.
Ben looked at her and frowned. “You can’t diss the car and then ask to drive it.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “But let’s take a lunch break soon. I’m starving.”
“You packed lunch?”
“Just a few sandwiches and apples. They’re in the duffel.” Another RV passed them, and Sara looked pointedly at the speedometer. “It’s okay to go faster.”
Ben’s brows shot up above his sunglasses. “You think I’m driving too slow?”
“The term little old lady did come to mind, especially when we hit all those switchbacks.”
His jaw dropped in obvious indignation. “Seriously?”
Sara lifted a shoulder. “What can I say? I know the mountains so I drive a little more, shall we say, confidently.”
He shook his head and mumbled, “Tell me how you really feel.”
Eyes on the road, Sara smiled as she read the mile marker. “We’re almost there. After the next bend, there’s a spot about a half mile down the road. There.” She pointed, excitement bubbling up inside. “See that parking area?”
“Got it.” Ben slid the car into the parking area.
Shivers of anticipation danced over her skin as she burst from the car and jogged the several hundred yards to a railing that overlooked a drop-off.
An endless blanket of wildflowers was spread before her. Blossoms of red, blue, yellow and purple danced in the gentle breeze. The field was punctuated with more boulders than she remembered. But they had probably rolled down the mountain during the sprin
g runoff. Farther away, a small stream ran through the rocks.
She hadn’t been back here in two years. Yet nothing had really changed. Thank You, Lord, for that. She needed this part of her world to stand still. “I take it you know this place,” Ben said moments later from behind her.
She nodded.
“Just look at those wildflowers,” he said.
“My mother loved them.”
“Do you know what they are?”
“Of course.” She began to identify them: “Indian paintbrush, columbine, lupine and fireweed. Next to the stream are primroses.”
He turned to the metal plate attached to the railing, then removed his sunglasses before he read the words aloud. “In loving memory of Amanda Rhoades-Elliott.” Pausing, Ben raised his head and met Sara’s gaze. His face was stark, and his eyes brimmed with concern.
“This is where the accident was,” he said.
“Yes.”
Ben rubbed a hand over his face before speaking again. “It doesn’t upset you to come back here?”
“No. In my heart, this is where my mother lives. So when I come back here, to the mountains she loved, it’s as though I regain my direction. This place is my compass.” She inhaled deeply.
Sara could feel the intensity of Ben’s gaze as he silently searched for something in her response. “Would you like to be alone?” he finally asked.
“Ben, really, I’m fine. I chose to come back here.”
Past the field the sky was a cloudless bright blue, providing a canvas for rows of conifers in the distance and the majestic capped peaks beyond. “How could anyone look at that and doubt there is a God?” she mused.
“I don’t know,” Ben said. He was silent for several minutes before finally asking, “Can you tell me about it?”
“The accident?”
“Yeah,” he murmured.
“Honestly, I don’t remember that much. Most of it my uncle told me afterwards. I do remember that I was in the backseat. Reading as usual. My mother was driving. It was snowing, but I don’t recall that conditions were unusually severe. Suddenly the car lurched. We hit a patch of ice. My mother lost control of the vehicle, and it rolled over several times and ended up in that clearing.” She pointed to the field before them.
“Over the rail and embankment?” Ben’s eyes were wide.
“Both the rail and the embankment buildup were added after the accident. We’ve driven through the mountains all day, Ben. This is hardly a dangerous spot compared to the cliffs and drop-offs we’ve seen. But my father pressured the county to add those.”
Ben gave a short nod as Sara continued.
“Apparently my uncle had taken off his seat belt for a moment to reach for some papers in the back. He was thrown from the car. My mother died on impact. I was pinned in the car for hours.”
“Your scar?”
She touched her face, her fingertips gingerly traversing the familiar disfigurement. “The car rolled into a boulder, smashing in the passenger side and jutting through the window, cutting my face and trapping me inside. Looking back, I was probably concussed, which explains why I don’t remember much.”
With a grimace, Ben closed his eyes and swallowed. When he finally opened them, he stared out at the field, his face an angry mask.
Without thinking, Sara reached out and wrapped her arms around him. Holding tightly, she rested her head against his chest for a minute, listening to the beat of his heart. A strong, steady heart. It took an effort to step away from him.
She hadn’t figured Ben Rogers out yet, but something kept whispering to her that he needed Paradise far more than he let on. What was he holding so tightly inside of him? Whatever it was, one thing was clear: today he needed a hug far more than she did.
“What was that for?” Ben asked, his dark eyes wide with surprise.
“I’m not sure.” Sara released a small smile. She should be embarrassed, but oddly enough, she wasn’t. “You looked like you needed a hug.”
“Maybe I did,” he acknowledged quietly. “I don’t know how you handle it so well.”
“My mother’s death?”
“That, and the unfairness of it all.” He shook his head. Bitterness shadowed his face. “We spend our lives saving people, and yet there is so much out of our control.”
“You’re right, of course. But I choose to look at what I can control instead of what I can’t.” She paused and cleared her throat as emotions threatened. “I’ve had a lifetime to deal with my loss. Lots of time for denial, anger, self-recrimination.”
“How could you possibly blame yourself?” Ben asked.
“When you’re going through the grief process, playing ‘what if’ and faulting yourself doesn’t have to make sense. In fact, it probably never does.”
Ben stiffened as he stared out at the mountains in the distance.
“Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her,” she continued. “I miss her. She believed in me. Not in what I could be, but she believed in me just for who I was. That’s the legacy my mother left me.”
Sara slowly ran her palm over the dull metal plaque. Less than ten words that marked the moment her life changed forever.
“For me,” she continued, “it all comes down to one question. Am I going to hold out my hand and trust the Lord even though life isn’t fair, even though I have more questions than answers?”
Ben’s searching gaze met hers, and she again glimpsed the tortured pain in the depths of the dark eyes as he silently pleaded for something. Something she didn’t know how to give him.
“The answer will always be yes, Ben. Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not unto your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths.” She exhaled. “It’s not an option.”
His eyes became glassy with emotion, and he looked away. In that moment Sara knew. Ben Rogers understood her loss because he’d been there. He’d been to the bottom of the despair and was still fighting his way out of the abyss.
She reached out and touched his hand. “Oh, Ben. I’m so sorry. But it will get better. I promise.”
“Will it? You seem to have it all figured out,” Ben said, his gaze never leaving the scenery before them. “But maybe...maybe I don’t deserve better.”
Sara inhaled sharply. “How can you say that?”
“You don’t know the situation, Sara.”
“No, I guess I don’t.” She acknowledged his words, her hand dropping back to her side. “But the Lord does. And you’ve got to let someone in. Why not Him?”
Chapter Seven
Ben snuck another glance at Sara as he drove. They’d barely spoken, both lost in their own thoughts for the past hour since leaving the site of that long-ago accident.
“Don’t miss that turn up ahead.” Sara’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“What? Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” Ben navigated the car onto a two-lane road.
Suddenly she shot straight up in the passenger seat. “Ben, pull over.”
“Why?”
“There’s a motorcycle down. You have to pull over.” Her voice was tense and tight.
He yanked off his sunglasses. “Where?”
“See the metal in the road? Look, he’s over to the right on the grass, sitting up and pulling off his helmet.”
“Hit-and-run?”
“Hard to tell,” she said. “Hopefully, the fact that he’s sitting up is a good sign.”
“Can you get a signal on your phone yet?” Ben asked.
Sara shook her head as she held her cell up, eyes locked on the screen. “No, still only one bar.”
Ben pulled the car over, but before he’d pulled on the emergency brake Sara had the door open and was racing toward the victim.
“Get your bag,” she called over her shoulder. “My duffel, too.”
By the time he grabbed the bags and dropped them on the ground next to her, Sara was kneeling in the grass talking to the victim, who was dressed in a black leather jacket, jeans and boots. The young man’s helmet lay next to him, intact except for some scratches and dust.
Ben began a mental assessment of the victim. Male. Caucasian. Approximately twenty years of age. Five feet six. Fair skin and blond hair.
Without warning, a wave of nausea slammed into Ben, and a vicious stampede of his own heart rate began. His only defense was to swallow hard and hold on tight.
Ben recognized the symptoms. The onset of a panic attack. Lord, no, he silently prayed. Not now. This was only supposed to happen in the hospital.
Fight it. Fight it. He repeated the words like a mantra in his head.
Taking a deep breath, he tossed Sara a package of latex gloves and tore open one for himself. “Collision with a car?” he asked, feigning normalcy.
“No,” the young man insisted. “I let the bike down. It’s just my leg. I think it got caught between the bike and the ground, then we both slid.”
“Eddie says a jackrabbit ran in front of the bike,” Sara said. “The accident happened about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Eddie?” Ben asked.
“Yes. Eddie, this is Dr. Rogers. Eddie’s given us consent to treat.” She turned her head to look up at Ben and gasped, her eyes widened. “Ben, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Ben wiped perspiration from his brow with his forearm. “Any significant medical history?” he asked.
Sara narrowed her eyes, watching Ben as he knelt down on the other side of Eddie. “No medical history to speak of, and no allergies. He denies head trauma,” she said.
Ben nodded and looked at Eddie. “We’re going to try to move you as little as possible, but we do need to do a quick exam. I’m going to unzip your jacket and listen to your lungs and heart first.”
When he finished, Ben took the stethoscope from his ears and gave Sara a nod. “Lungs clear. Heart regular in rhythm and rate.”
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