“Impressive recovery,” Nate told her as they walked to his truck.
“It’s practically a class in med school—how to jump into action at a second’s notice, no matter how crappy you feel.”
He opened the door of his truck for her, and as soon as he slid in next to her, immediately turned the heater to full blast. “It’s starting to feel like winter around here. I can feel the snow coming in my bones.”
“In your bones?”
“Yup. It’s kind of a sixth sense thing. You learn these things after a lifetime of Lost Harbor living. No need for a class.”
She smiled as she tucked her hands into her pockets. “I wish there was a class. First lesson—watch out for those drinks at the Olde Salt.”
“Yeah, they pour ’em old school there, like they’re still serving grizzled old trappers whose blood is half alcohol. I should have warned you.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility.” She gave him a curious glance. With one hand on the steering wheel, slouched on the bench seat of his pickup, long legs spread to fit under the dashboard, he looked like someone completely at ease in his own skin. “Have you always lived here in Lost Harbor?”
“Technically, I lived for a few months Outside, as we call the rest of the world, but I was still in the belly at the time. My family moved here when my mom was pregnant with me.”
“So you were outside but inside.”
He gave one of those infectious, engaging laughs of his. “Exactly. I guess those few months were enough for me.”
“You’ve never been anywhere else?”
“Now that’s a very different question. I’ve been many places.”
“Like where?” She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t the litany of countries that came rolling off his tongue.
“Mexico, France, Belize, Panama, Nepal, Fiji, Iceland, Sweden, much of the United States, Slovakia, Prague, Morocco, Zimbabwe— What?” He broke off when he realized she was staring at him in shock.
“You’ve been to all those places?”
“Yup. I like seeing the world. I’m a single guy with a pretty well-paying job, I own my house, I’m debt-free, so whenever I can take a break from the station, I book a plane ticket. That’s another tip for surviving life in Alaska. It’s good to get out once in a while. The winters are long and dark and cold and—”
“You need a cuddle bug,” she said absently, remembering the advice from the farmer, Mr. Bruner.
A smile flashed across Nate’s lean face. “That helps too.”
He turned onto the main road that traveled through town. She’d seen the building that housed the fire station and the police station before, but she hadn’t been inside. It was a cheerful structure painted a sunshiny yellow, with a stained-glass fire engine over the front door. One side belonged to the police, the other to the fire department. She’d seen the crew hosing off their rigs in the triple-wide drive out front.
Lately, signs had appeared around town promoting a new bond issue to build a separate building for the police department. She wondered if Nate was involved in that project too. Probably, since he seemed to have his finger on the pulse of Lost Harbor. Everyone knew him and liked him. Nate was the kind of guy who kept a community going. And yet—no kids, no wife.
“So how come there’s no Mrs. Nate?” she asked, before she lost her nerve.
“Why is there no Mr. Bethany?” he countered.
“That’s different.”
“Why? It’s the exact same question.”
“Because it’s hard forming a solid relationship when you’re trying to get through med school and residency and so forth.”
That wasn’t the real reason—but it was an acceptable one, something she could tell people. Better than, “my father is impossible to please and would make life hell for someone who didn’t live up to his standards, and who would love me enough to put up with that?”
“Whereas you,” she continued, ”are very grounded in your hometown. Don’t you want to raise the next generation of little Lost Harborites?”
He shot her a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I just want to have fun.”
She cocked her head at him and surveyed him thoughtfully. “I admit, that’s what I thought at first. But now I’m starting to see other sides of you. And I think that description is selling you short.”
He pulled into the barely lit parking area behind the fire station. The tall Douglas firs surrounding the lot swayed in a gust of wind. Fallen birch leaves swirled across the pavement. She shivered even though the cab of the truck was still toasty warm.
“I may be just a regular old fireman, but that sounds almost like a compliment. Are you giving me a compliment?”
“Don’t go crazy now,” she said wryly. “But I suppose so, yes. I have a feeling I misjudged you, and I apologize.”
“What if you didn’t misjudge me?”
“Sorry?”
“Maybe I’m just a…fun-seeking missile. Maybe I like keeping things light and shallow, and I have no plans to spew out any more little Lost Harborites.” He said it lightly, a half-smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye—and she didn’t believe a word of it. Because by now, she knew him better, and she could sense the layers behind his teasing manner.
“Suit yourself.” She shrugged and put her hand on the handle. “But I’m not buying it. You’re not shallow like you pretend.”
He laughed and swung his long legs out of the truck. “That’s your diagnosis, huh?”
“Get a second opinion if you like.” Both smiling, buffeted by the wind, they hurried to the side door, which he unlocked with a key from a ring bristling with keys. “Why don’t we go in the front door?”
“In case someone’s around, which is unlikely. Everyone’s at an off-site training, but I volunteered to hold down the fort here. They won’t be back until later.” As they entered, he put his finger to his lips, his expression sobering. “Move slowly and speak calmly, that’s what I’ve found works best with her. Also, remember to say ‘healer,’ not ‘doctor.’”
“Got it,” she whispered back. “What’s her name?”
“I’ve been calling her S.G. She doesn’t seem to have a name, or at least she doesn’t want to share it.”
“What does S.G. stand for?”
“Spruce grouse. Long story.”
When she gave an involuntary spurt of laughter, he clapped his hand over her mouth, his gray eyes wide with warning. She swallowed back her laughter as she absorbed the nearness of his body and face and eyes and scent and…just, all of him.
The sensory memory of him catching her as she tumbled off the bar came back in a flash, so real it could have been happening all over again. Strength and heat and comfort and solid, hard flesh against her body. The flush of excitement flooding her veins.
She nodded to show him the risk of laughter was gone. “Sorry,” she murmured as he slowly withdrew his hand. “Wasn’t expecting that. S.G. Got it.”
He took her hand and led the way through a cavernous space filled with two fire engines and orderly piles of equipment. The scent of diesel fuel and chrome polish made her nostrils tingle. She liked the smell; it was an improvement on the antiseptic-masking-illness smell of the hospital.
They walked down a dim corridor and entered a living-room-like area furnished with couches and a La-Z-Boy and an old dining table, with a kitchenette occupying an alcove at one end. It had the feel of a man cave, or a den, a place for relaxation and shooting the shit with your buddies. Several free weights filled one corner and a flat-screen TV sat on a pile of boxes.
And finally they found her.
The La-Z-Boy swung toward them, and Bethany saw that a strange girl occupied it. A very strange girl, judging by her clothing. Everything she wore looked handmade, stitched from furs and old fabrics and maybe…animal hides? But she was clean, and her hair hung in a long shiny braid over one shoulder.
She clenched the arms of the chair as her eyes flew to meet Nate’s.
&nb
sp; He nodded to her easily. “This is the friend I told you about. Her name is Bethany and she’s a healer. Bethany, this is S.G.”
This time she managed not to laugh at the girl’s name. “Hi, S.G. I’m Bethany.” She stood for a moment while the girl examined her with eyes as big as twin moons. She had a feeling this girl didn’t miss much. “Nate said you got your foot caught in a trap. Would you mind if I take a look at it?”
She used her best doctor’s voice, the one that put patients at ease but also let them know that she was in charge.
“I was thinking that we could go into the bathroom where we can have some privacy. Either that, or Nate can take a hike for a bit.”
A smile sketched across the girl’s face. “Bye, Nate.”
“Ouch.” Nate put a hand on his heart. “Who needs a knife when you can cut me to the core with just a couple of words? Speaking of which…why don’t you hand over your knife, S.G. I’ll give it back as soon as Bethany’s done.”
“Why?” Her hand flew to a leather pouch on her right hip.
“It’s one thing to stab me, but Bethany’s another story.”
“I won’t,” she said firmly. “But I always carry it with me. Even when I’m sleeping.”
“I know you do. But right now—”
“It’s okay,” Bethany jumped in. “I don’t think we need to worry about anything like that. I want S.G. to feel comfortable.” She smiled at the girl, whose tension visibly eased.
Nate looked between the two of them, then nodded reluctantly. “I’ll be right outside.”
“Don’t worry. We got this.” She sent him a reassuring smile. So far, she’d never had a patient pull a knife on her, and saw no reason why that should change. This was a girl in pain and she was here to help. If she had to talk her into getting an X-ray…well, she’d cross that bridge if she came to it.
Nate headed down the corridor, leaving the two of them alone.
S.G. looked at her curiously. “Where are your herbs? In that bag?”
Herbs? Wherever this girl came from, she was used to a different kind of medicine.
“Let’s take a look at your foot and then see what…herbs we might need. Sound good?”
The girl nodded, and Bethany kneeled next to her feet. The swelling of her right ankle was visible even under her boot. “I’m going to unlace your boot. You tell me right away if something hurts, okay?”
“It hurts,” the girl said promptly.
“A lot?”
She shrugged. “Things hurt. That’s the way of the world.” It sounded like she was quoting someone.
“Is that right? Who told you that?” Gently, Bethany untied the laces of her boots and loosened them. The laces were made from some kind of rawhide, and the boots were crafted from some kind of animal skin. Whoever made them had skill.
“King told me that.”
“King? Who’s that?”
“The king,” she said impatiently. “That’s who he is. He decides things and tells me what to do. I’m the servant.”
It took all of Bethany’s control not to reach too harshly. “You’re a child, not a servant.”
S.G. cocked her head, almost birdlike. “A child? I don’t think so. He always says I’m a servant.”
“Okay.” Maybe it was better not to argue. “So do you live with the king? Is he your father?”
”I live here now. He said I don’t have a father or a mother. Just him.”
Bethany unwrapped the cloth that the girl had wrapped around her ankle. The entire joint was swollen and purple. How had she been walking around with this kind of injury? Maybe that was why she’d continued to stick close to the firehouse.
As gently as possible, Bethany pressed various points, testing for tender areas. The girl maintained a stoic expression, showing no reaction.
“Any pain here?” She pressed the media malleolus, the bony knob at the tip of her tibia. The girl shook her head.
“Can you flex your foot? Point your toes like a ballerina?”
Even though the girl didn’t seem to understand the ballerina reference, she did know how to point her toes.
“And then back, towards the ceiling?”
She flexed them easily, displaying full range of motion
“The good news is, I don’t think any bones are broken. You probably strained a ligament. You need to rest it.”
S.G. looked at her blankly. “Sleep?”
“Sleep helps, of course. But also you need to stay off it for a while, at least a couple of weeks. I’ll get you some crutches, that will help.”
“I need comfrey,” she declared. “Can you bring me some?”
“Sorry? Comfrey?”
“It’s a plant for healing. King healed his broken finger with comfrey.”
Maybe this “king” ran an off-the-grid homestead somewhere nearby. She knew they existed because even dedicated back-to-the-landers needed medical help on occasion.
“Tell you what, I’ll try to bring you some comfrey along with the crutches.”
“Good.” The girl nodded, satisfied.
Since she’d apparently earned the girl’s trust, Bethany decided to dig for more details. “When did you step in this trap? How long ago?”
“When I was leaving. I know all the traps, so it must have been someone else’s.”
So the girl was a runaway and she was familiar with traps. And a “king” had raised her. The information was adding up—to what, she had no idea.
“Okay. One more question before we get Nate back here. Would you like me to find you another place to stay?”
The girl shook her head. “I like it here. I like the smell and all the machines.”
“But where do you stay during the day when all the firefighters are here?”
“I hide. I like to watch them. They’re very funny.”
“I bet they are. All right, I’ll let Nate know that you want to stay. Would you mind showing me where you sleep?”
But she’d phrased that wrong, and S.G. stiffened and refused to answer.
“That’s okay,” Bethany said quickly. “The important thing is that when you lie down, you raise your ankle above the level of your heart. I’m going to bring you some pillows you can prop your leg on. Do you understand? All the way up here.” She lifted the girl’s ankle to the proper height. “That will help this swelling go down. Ice would help too, and this compression bandage that you put together is great. I’m going to make you a new one. Don’t fasten it too tight, mind. Just tight enough to feel snug. It’s only to help the swelling go down. After that, you can stop wearing it.”
The girl appeared to be searching her mind for the proper words. “Thank you,” she finally said, with an air of triumph.
“You’re welcome.”
They smiled at each other. Bethany risked another question. “Where did you learn to say ‘thank you’? Did the king teach you?”
“No, he doesn’t say that. I heard it from the people here. The machine people.”
“The firefighters?”
The girl shrugged. “I didn’t see any fire.”
Good point. “They leave here to put out the fires, that’s what those shiny yellow truck are for.” She gestured down the corridor, in the direction of the fire engines. “Do you go to school?”
The girl shook her head. “No, but one of the machine people always says he has to pick up his kid at school. ‘Fuck, I’m late.’ He says that a lot.”
The hazards of learning the language from a bunch of firefighters. Bethany finished wrapping the compression bandage around S.G.’s angle. “I’m going to put your boot back on for now, but after I bring you the crutches you’ll be better off without the boot.”
“I can make crutches from some branches.”
“I’m sure you can. You’re very ingenious, but there’s no need for that. I’ll bring you some. It’ll be a gift.”
“A gift. Thank you,” she said again. “Maybe I’ll sleep now. Did Nate bring any cheeseburgers?”
“I don’t think so. Are you hungry?”
“Yes.” S.G. nodded decisively, then settled back into the La-Z-Boy.
“Okay. We’ll be right back then. Enjoy your nap.”
Bethany packed everything back in her bag and stepped into the corridor, where Nate had his back propped against the wall. He straightened up as soon as he saw her.
“Well?”
“Ligament strain. No fractures. We could try to confirm that with an X-ray, but I can’t imagine her cooperating with that.”
“Never happen,” Nate agreed. “Listen, I forgot to swing by the Mighty Moose. The kid’s addicted to their double cheeseburgers with extra pickles. I can drop you back home on my way.”
“No.” She wanted to be part of this, wherever it led. “I’ll come with you. I want to know everything you’ve learned about her. I picked up a few things myself. I think we should share our observations and try to figure out where she came from.”
He gave her an alert look. “Are you sure? You’ve already gone above and beyond by coming here.”
“I’m sure. That girl…there’s just something about her. She doesn’t know anything about civilization, but obviously she knows how to survive. Oh, I have to find some crutches for her. And she wants some comfrey. Do you know where that grows?”
A broad smile spread across his face. “Admit it, I had you pegged. I knew you wouldn’t be able to turn your back on her.”
“Maybe, but never fear, I’m perfectly capable of turning my back on you.” She did her best flounce as she headed down the hallway past him.
“Saucy. I like it.”
Chapter Twelve
While they collected cheeseburgers, crutches, and a few items of clothing at a thrift store, Nate absorbed the new details that Bethany had gathered about S.G.
“If she knows about traps, she could have been living with a trapper out in the bush somewhere. And this ‘king’…he definitely isn’t her father?”
“That’s what she said. It sounds like he’s more of an…I don’t know…boss, almost. Like he’s in charge and she’s some sort of servant.”
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