Crazy Over You (Love with Altitude #2)

by Daisy Prescott

  From uphill I hear a group of rowdy voices and check over my shoulder to see a bunch of boarders in crazy hats speeding down the intermediate run. They’re going too fast to maintain control in the less than ideal conditions. I guide Fern and I over to the tree line to avoid them. After I stop, she runs a few feet beyond me before she realizes I’m not beside her.

  At the sound of my whistle, she stops and turns to come back to me, a happy smile on her face as she pants.

  A flash of color flies past me, heading directly for Fern. Someone screams and there’s a yelp of pain. Everything happens too fast for my eyes to process. I blink and look at the boarder lying on the snow in front of me. I’m still standing in the same spot. He missed me by some miracle.

  Where’s Fern?

  Panicked, I search the area for her brown fur and smiling face. I call out her name, listening for a response.

  “Fern!”

  I hear a quiet whimper closer to the trees.

  “Why is there a dog on a ski run?” the guy sits up, slurring his words. “Or was that a wolf?”

  “If she’s hurt—” I don’t finish the thought as I start to see red. I snap out of my skis and rush to the trees. Fern lifts her head and whines.

  I reach her and see blood on the snow near her hind leg.

  “You hurt my dog, asshole.” I reach for my radio, but realize I’m not wearing my uniform. “Someone call ski patrol!”

  A few skiers have stopped behind me. “We saw what happened if you need to file a report,” an older woman offers.

  I nod, but my focus is on Fern. “Can you stand, girl?”

  She’s on her side and I can’t tell where the blood is coming from.

  With effort, she pushes up on her front legs, but she doesn’t put any weight on her back left leg. In the deep snow, she can’t seem to get her balance to get up. I move closer and rest my hand on her neck. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be fine. You’re okay.”

  I’m not sure who I’m reassuring, her or me.

  I crouch next to her and slide my hands underneath her belly. “Let’s get you out of here.” I’m using my ski patrol voice, faking a calmness I don’t feel.

  Once she’s in my arms, I can see the gash on her leg. It’s deep and about four inches long.

  My stomach rises into my throat and my lunch threatens a return. “You fucking asshole.” I’m torn between kicking the shit out of him and helping Fern.

  I notice the boarder’s friends have left him behind, but a couple skiers stand around him, making sure he doesn’t leave. His eyes flick to Fern and me, then down at his board.

  Carefully I lay Fern on the packed snow. I need to wrap the cut before I get her down the mountain. She’s going to need stitches and probably an X-ray to make sure nothing’s broken.

  I kneel over her and try to open my pack, but my hands are shaking.

  A woman hands me a fleece neck warmer. “Here, use this.”

  I press it against Fern’s leg and she whimpers again. “Thank you.”

  “Want me to beat him up for you?” she offers.

  I glance over my shoulder at her. She has short silver hair and can’t be under fifty or much over five feet tall. Her suggestion makes me smile. I take my first deep breath in minutes. “Think you can take him?”

  “I’d give it my best shot. I go to kickboxing classes three times a week. I’ve always wanted to kick someone’s ass and he’s the perfect candidate. I can’t stand people who are reckless on the mountain and ruin it for everyone else. Bunch of punks and entitled brats.”

  Her spunky spirit reminds me of my grandmother, Inez, who never suffered any fools or disrespect.

  I keep pressure on Fern’s leg for another minute. Deep red stains the pink fleece.

  “I need to get her off the mountain.” Opening my pack, I pull out the first aid kit. I use tape and gauze to wrap the wound.

  As I’m finishing up, Abe arrives with the toboggan. “We got a report of a collision and injury. Who’s hurt?”

  “Fern.”

  “Someone crashed into Fern?”

  “Who has a dog on a ski slope?” the culprit asks again and I notice a pronounced scent of beer on his breath.

  “She’s a ski patrol dog, you—” Abe’s hand on my chest stops me.

  “You take care of Fern, we’ll handle the incident report. Do you need the sled?”

  I nod. With his help, we get her settled in the sled and wrap the blanket around her. She tries to lick the bandage before settling on her side.

  “Go on.” Abe tucks my poles next to Fern in the toboggan.

  The rest of the way down the mountain is a blur. When I get to base, I leave the sled by the lift and carry Fern toward the lot.

  I stand with Fern in my arms while I try to figure out what to do next. We took the shuttle this morning, so I don’t have my car. A local taxi pulls up to the curb, and a familiar face appears in the window.

  “Heard you need an emergency run to the hospital,” Darren says as he jumps out to open the back door for us. He’s a fixture around town and has driven my drunk ass home more times than I can count. In the rugby club, we joke he’s our transportation officer.

  “How?”

  “I listen to the ski patrol channel.” He doesn’t even sound guilty.

  I think he means he’s eavesdropping, but I ignore the security breach.

  “Can you take us to Hawks Creek?” I shuffle myself and Fern into the backseat, careful not to hit her leg.

  I’m reluctant to look at the speedometer as he flies around corners on the way to the ranch. I spend the short ride petting Fern’s head and keeping her calm with soft words.

  Darren starts honking as we pull down the private road to the clinic.

  Mara and a few women I don’t recognize rush out of the building to meet us.

  I don’t think we’ve come to a full stop when she opens the door and pokes her head in. “Abe called ahead. We’ve got her. Everything’s going to be okay. Do you want me to take her? Or can you manage?”

  Her words fly out rapid fire and I respond by exiting the car, Fern in my arms.

  Mara pets her neck and places a kiss on the top of Fern’s head. “Sweet girl. You’re going to be okay.”

  I suspect the last sentence is more for me. We follow her into the exam room and I lay Fern on the table. Blood has soaked through the bandage.

  “You should sit down.” Mara presses against my chest, guiding me to a chair.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You look pale and I don’t need you fainting. I’m good with stitches, but I’ve never had to sew up a human before. You pass out and split your head open, I can’t promise you won’t end up looking like Frankenstein.”

  As the adrenaline leaves my body, her words get tinny and the room feels hot. I put my head between my knees.

  Mara runs her fingers through my hair once before she attends to Fern. “When was the last time she ate?”

  “Around five thirty this morning before work,” I speak to the floor.

  “Good. We won’t have to wait to sedate her if her stomach is empty.” Her voice is soft as she orders an X-ray and she explains to me each of her actions. “We’ll be right back. Stay where you’re at. I’ll get someone to bring you water and crackers.”

  I lift my head as she and a vet tech carry Fern out of the room. In the quiet of the clinic, I can hear Fern’s whimpers. Hearing her in pain slays me. I’ve never felt more helpless.

  A few moments later, I’m feeling better. More embarrassed than anything, I poke my head out the door. Elizabeth walks down the hall with a large glass of water and a sleeve of saltines.

  “Heard you passed out over a little blood.” She doesn’t temper her grin.

  “Don’t tell anyone or you’ll ruin my tough guy reputation.” I take the glass of water from her and gulp down half of it.

  “Your secret’s safe with me.” She offers me a cracker. “When someone we love is hurt, we tend to feel u
ncertain and helpless.”

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Fern’s going to be fine. Nothing’s broken. Mara’s stitching her up. She’ll have the cone of shame and a temporary bald spot, but otherwise, she’s all good.”

  “I wonder if ski patrol offers workman’s comp for dogs?”

  “If she needs a doctor’s note, Mara will write her one.” Elizabeth squeezes my forearm.

  “I owe you a thank you.” My mouth dry, I roll my lips together as nerves and panic from earlier begin to fade.

  “Me?” She blinks at me. “I only brought you crackers.”

  “I meant for Mara. Thanks for hiring her.”

  She assesses me coolly.

  “What?” My voice cracks like I’m fourteen again.

  “I didn’t realize I was playing matchmaker.”

  I shift my gaze to the wall.

  “Are you telling me Jesse Hayes is smitten?”

  “I wouldn’t use that word.” I feel the back of my neck warm.

  She continues to study me. “My word. You are.”

  “Please stop talking.” I feel like I’m back in high school and my mother is trying to figure out if I have a girlfriend and encouraging my dad to have “the talk” with me. I stare at the ceiling and blow out a breath.

  “Okay, I won’t say anything more if you make me a promise.”

  I cut my eyes over to her and wait for her to continue.

  “Don’t mess this up. If your intentions are honorable, you have my blessing. But if you screw her over and she quits, I’m going to hunt you down. Finding a good vet who is willing to work for almost nothing and put up with the craziness of the ranch is worth jail time.”

  Whoa.

  I meet her eyes and give her a small smile. “I never want to find out what you would do. You have my word.”

  “Good. Eat some more crackers. Mara will come find you when she’s done.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She pats my shoulder on her way out the door. I do as I’m told and munch on crackers while I wait for Mara to finish. I know Mara will take care of my girl.

  It’s the longest forty minutes of my life. I read all the posters in the room, including the one about intestinal worms. I open the jar of dog biscuits and sniff. They smell almost identical to the saltines I’ve been eating. Wyatt dared me and Cody to eat Milk-Bones when we were kids. I wonder if these taste similar.

  I have my hand in the jar when the door opens again.

  “Still hungry after the crackers?” Mara carries Fern into the room.

  My sweet girl wags her tail when she spots me. After Mara sets her on the floor, Fern’s steps are hesitant and she doesn’t put her full weight on her back leg. This doesn’t stop her from taking a few steps in my direction. I close the distance and crouch in front of her, gently wrapping my arms around her and burying my face in her fur. Always the one to comfort me, she nuzzles me with her nose before licking my damp cheek.

  “Sorry we took so long. I wanted to stay with her until she was awake enough to stand.” Mara apologizes unnecessarily.

  “Never apologize for caring.” I run a hand down Fern’s back.

  From her hip down, Fern’s shaved in a five inch patch. The bare skin has a jagged line of angry black stitches. Around her neck she sports a padded cone of shame to prevent her from licking or chewing on the wound.

  I swipe the back of my hand across my eyes. When I speak, I have to clear my throat to get the words out. “She’s going to be okay?”

  A wave of relief knocks me over. I land on the floor and Fern climbs into my lap. Kissing the top of her head, I inhale her familiar scent. “I was so afraid on the mountain when I saw the blood.

  “She’s going to be fine. I swear.” Mara speaks softly. “You’re lucky the cut didn’t go too deep into the muscle. Stitches can come out in ten days and she’ll heal in a few weeks.”

  I lift my tear-stained face to see her. “We’ll never talk about me crying in public, right?”

  Her smile crinkles her watery eyes as she sits on the ground next to me. “Who’s crying? I’m not crying.”

  “No one is crying.” I pull her into a half hug, careful not to jostle Fern. “Thank you.”

  “No need for thank you. We’re even.” Snuggling into me, she presses a kiss above my heart.

  I lean into her touch. “Life’s not about checks and balances.”

  She laughs against my chest. “Then I guess I won’t mention you eating dog biscuits either.”

  I join her with a soft laugh. “I didn’t eat them. I only sniffed them.”

  Fern barks, letting us know if anyone should have a biscuit, it’s her.

  “See? She’s not suffering.”

  I scratch behind Fern’s ear in the softest spot of fur.

  Mara bends over to pet her side. “She’s not going to be able to go up on the mountain with you until her leg heals.”

  “I figured. I think she’ll have to sit out the rest of the season.”

  “If you want, she can hang out with Tapper while you work.”

  “You think they’ll get along?”

  “Tapper is everyone’s best friend. He’d be thrilled to have a canine buddy instead of spending all day with two bitter cats.”

  I realize I’ve never seen her place. Or met her pets. “Can I meet them?”

  She gives me a shy smile. “Are you asking to come upstairs?”

  “I am. I want to know you, Mara.”

  Her cheeks pink as she gives me a soft smile. “You might change your mind after you meet Fred and George.”

  “They can’t be that bad.”

  “Do you remember Waldorf and Statler from the Muppets?”

  “The two old guys in the theater?”

  “Imagine them, only with claws and an appetite for destruction. Especially George. He’ll either try to smother you while you sleep or use your shoe as a litter box.”

  “I’ll sleep with one eye open then.” I think I invited myself for a sleepover.

  “I can make up a bed for Fern where she can rest. Let me tell Elizabeth I’m leaving for the day. Can you give me ten minutes to hide anything embarrassing?”

  “Now why would I give you a head start? I’m serious when I say I want to know you. I mean all of you. The good, the beautiful, the weird. Let me in.” I stoop to kiss her.

  “But my giant granny panties are hanging all over the living room.”

  I freeze. “Maybe we should have some secrets … you know, keep the mystery and excitement alive.”

  “Why are men so freaked out by full coverage underwear?” She snickers against my mouth.

  I’ve been played.

  Chapter 23

  Mara

  AFTER DOING A sweep of my apartment for anything embarrassing, I bring Tapper downstairs for the introduction. If you didn’t know he’s missing a foot, you wouldn’t notice at first. He has a slight wobble to his walk and on hard surfaces he can sound a little bit like a pirate with a peg leg, but otherwise he’s a regular dog.

  He and Fern instantly go through first and last name introductions. After a few minutes together outside, we decide to bring Fern upstairs.

  “That was quick,” I say.

  “Kind of like us. One minute they’re strangers, the next they’re sniffing each other’s butts. Or the human equivalent, which I assume is kissing.”

  I’m walking ahead of him up the stairs. “Do not sniff my butt.”

  “Can I pinch it instead?”

  I cast a look over my shoulder. “Since when do you ask permission?”

  He smirks and a familiar wicked gleam flashes in his eyes right before he gives my cheek a little squeeze. I jump and race up the stairs. He follows more slowly with Fern in his arms. Tapper makes sure everyone is accounted for before he hops behind Jesse.

  Upstairs Fred and George are less welcoming. Fred’s a blur of orange as he races out of the room to hide in my closet. George hisses and arches his back from his current
location on top of the fridge. I step between he and Jesse to make sure George doesn’t launch himself in an aerial attack.

  “Stop your nonsense. He’s a guest,” I chastise while picking him up. George continues to caterwaul at Jesse from his position in my arms.

  Poor Jesse holds up his arms and backs away. Fern stays behind him because she’s a smart girl.

  I set George on the floor. He hisses, arches his back and dances sideways closer to my guests. I’m about to suggest we go to Jesse’s house, when Tapper body slams the cat. George isn’t expecting it, so he goes flying across the space, scrambling to get back on his feet.

  Tapper barks and growls at George until he skulks away down the hall. Right before he disappears into my room, he stares into my eyes. It’s a warning. I don’t know when or how, but he will seek his revenge.

  Tapper chases after him and George does a perfect vertical jump in surprise.

  Jesse laughs and Fern barks, but she doesn’t follow Tapper. The poor girl has survived one attack already today.

  “Guess I know who’s the sheriff around here.”

  “George’s an asshole. He’ll seek his revenge for Tapper embarrassing him. You might want to leave your shoes outside.”

  I’m serious, but Jesse continues chuckling.

  “Come here.” He holds open his arms and waits for me to step into them.

  I accept his hug.

  “Thank you,” he murmurs into my hair, placing a kiss on the crown of my head.

  “For?”

  “Fixing Fern, having crazy cats, being you.” He tilts my chin up with his index finger before cupping my cheek.

  “You might not thank me for George once you get to know him.” I kiss his lips to distract him from asking why.

  I show Fern to one of Tapper’s beds I’ve dragged to the corner. She lies on her non-injured side and rests her head on her front paws.

  “Do you think she’s okay?” Jesse asks from behind me. He kneels on the ground to pet her.

  “She’s going to be out of it because of the drugs, and probably extra sleepy, but yes, she’s okay. The best thing for her to do is sleep.”