Cameron mountain rescue, p.3
Cameron Mountain Rescue, page 3
“Not in public. And especially not at school. Why are you even here?” Daryl closed his locker and hiked his backpack higher on his shoulder.
“What? I need a reason beyond embarrassing you?”
His brother rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I gotta go. See ya.”
Rather than say the words and embarrass Daryl further, Brody formed the “love you” hand sign and nodded to D.
Daryl arched an eyebrow in acknowledgment, and as he turned to walk away, made the same hand sign behind his back, out of his friends’ line of sight. Brody chuckled as he headed out to his truck. He remembered being a teenager, wanting to impress his friends and girls, and being easily humiliated by adults in his family.
Okay, he still liked to impress his friends and women, but at least he had a better, more mature perspective.
Later that day, Brody wrapped up his seedling work after several hours on a sunny hillside at Cameron Glen, his family’s one-hundred-and-fifty-acre property that included several Cameron family homes, the Christmas tree farm and ten rental cabins. He left one of his employees to prepare the remaining seedlings for planting tomorrow and headed home for a quick shower, even though he knew he’d be getting sweaty again for his test with Jerry. While at home, he grabbed a protein bar and bottle of water and made it to the firehouse with ten minutes to spare. When he passed all the physical challenges with flying colors, Jerry whistled his admiration and shook Brody’s hands in admiration. “I can have you back in the rotation this weekend. Work for you?”
“Sounds good.”
Jerry hitched his head toward the street. “Come on. I’ll buy dinner at Eddie’s.”
Brody rubbed his stomach, his mouth watering at the thought of a thick hamburger and cold beer at the local bar and grill. “You’re on. I’m famished.”
He followed Jerry to Eddie’s Grill, and as they stepped inside the dimly lit restaurant, the men scanned the tables looking for an open seat.
“Back there, by the window?” Jerry said, casually pointing out an empty booth.
“Lead on.” Brody motioned for his boss to precede him.
“Harris and Baughman are on their way to join us.”
Brody almost missed Jerry’s comment. His gaze had snagged on a table of women in scrubs, laughing and toasting boisterously. One woman in particular made his pulse stumble and his memory hiccup. He slowed, searching his brain for the reason this woman, a beautiful Indian woman with long, thick hair past her shoulders and a heart-stopping smile, triggered this sense of déjà vu.
As if feeling his attention, the woman raised her mocha gaze, and her eyes locked with his. Her expression shifted from the jubilance she’d been sharing with her friends, to intrigue then recognition. Her smile bloomed again. For him. And it clicked. The ER nurse who’d been on duty last summer when he’d skewered his leg at the river.
Warmth and gratitude flowed through him, and he stepped over to the table with a smile of his own for the dark-eyed beauty. “Well, hey there.”
He racked his brain for her name but drew a blank. He glanced at her name badge, but it was flipped backward, her name hidden—dang it!
“Blue Eyes! How are you? How’s the leg?” she asked.
He patted it. “Good as new. Been back at work for a few months, and I’m even returning to the rotation with the volunteer fire department this weekend.”
“Excellent! I’m so glad.”
“Listen, I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to thank you for everything you did that day I came in the ER. You were the epitome of professionalism and skill but more than that. Your kindness and warmth really made a difference when I was at my worst.”
The nurses sitting with her exchanged knowing glances, and she—geez, he wished he could remember her name!—flashed an embarrassed grin. “Thanks. Just doing my job.”
“Maybe. But I wanted you to know how much I appreciated your care that day. You were...great.” He turned his focus to the other scrubs-clad women at her table and motioned to them, as well. “In fact, thank you all for the work you do. I know recent years have been exceptionally trying and stressful for healthcare providers, and as one who received such meaningful attention and care when I needed it, I want you to know you’re appreciated.”
A chorus of grateful responses answered him as he returned his gaze to the ER nurse. “In fact, what are you drinking? I’m buying the next round for your table.” He glanced at the table to try to determine what the women had been toasting with. He saw a beer, a margarita, a highball glass...
“Oh, that’s kind of you, but we’re about to leave, and we’re probably at our limit to safely drive,” his lovely ER nurse said.
Disappointment stabbed him until he spied the table’s bill lying next to one of the empty plates. He grabbed it. “Then I’m picking up your tab. As a thank you to all of you ladies.”
His offer brought a round of demurrals, thank yous and flattery, all of which he dismissed with, “My pleasure. Y’all have a nice night.”
His nurse stood and leaned toward him to give him a chaste kiss on his cheek. “That’s kind of you.”
The sweet scent of coconut enveloped him over the odors of grilled meat and beer that perfumed the restaurant. The brush of her long hair on his arm sent a tantalizing skittering sensation through him. A flash of desire flowed through Brody, and his breath caught.
As she bent to take her seat again, her name badge dangled, turned. Anya Patel.
Bingo.
He gave her a final smile and nod as he left the table. “Have a good evening, ladies. Anya.”
* * *
“No fair!” Christy complained as Mr. Tall, Blond and Handsome strode away from their table. “You get gorgeous young guys with hearts of gold, and I get warty old men with diarrhea and groping hands.”
Anya laughed. “I’ve had my share of warty old men, diarrhea and groping hands. Trust me. Blue Eyes there was just a lucky break in a blur of gore and grief.”
“So...what do you know about your good-looking patient, besides that he’s a charmer and gorgeous and generous?” Holly asked.
Anya furrowed her brow trying to remember. She couldn’t even come up with his name. Not surprising, considering how many patients came and went through the ER every day. But Blue Eyes had stuck in her memory...sort of. Because of his handsome face, his heroics saving his niece...and his drug-induced proposal. Blue Eyes would likely never know what that throwaway line, spoken under the influence of painkillers meant to her. Especially now, in light of how things ended with Mark.
Anya cut a glance to the corner booth where Blue Eyes had joined another man, and her heart gave a little patter. As with most of her patients, she’d likely never see Blue Eyes again. But she’d cherish the memory of the day he’d come through her ER and unwittingly given her a gift that she’d treasure for years to come.
* * *
Being a volunteer department, the Valley Haven firemen didn’t spend the hours they were on duty at the firehouse. The volunteers kept up with training, maintained the trucks and other equipment and checked in regularly with the chief, but they were free to go about their lives as usual until called. They were required to stay in town while on duty, keep their schedules clear of conflicting activities and wear their pagers at all times.
Brody was at his parents’ house having Sunday lunch with the whole Cameron clan when his pager vibrated on his hip. A mix of eager anticipation for the thrill of firefighting and disappointment for the interruption to his family meal hit him at the same time.
“Uh, I’ve gotta go,” he said, removing the device in order to shut off the buzzing alarm.
His mother met his gaze across the table, spread with more food than one family could eat at one time. “A fire call?”
“Maybe. Could be any number of things. We’ll see.” He wiped his mouth and scooted his chair back.
“Do be careful, a bhobain,” his grandmother said, using the Scots Gaelic endearment for “my darling” but also “rascal,” which he’d heard frequently from her in both contexts growing up.
“Always am, Nanna.”
“I’ll save a plate for you that you can have tonight,” his mother promised, her eyes saying, So please come home safely!
He blew the worried women a kiss and patted Daryl on the shoulder as he exited the dining room. “Save me a piece of that cake, dude.”
“Maybe,” Daryl said, his tone droll.
Climbing into his truck, Brody took a cleansing breath, mentally shifting into work mode. He drove quickly to the firehouse where the other volunteers were already piling into four-wheel drive vehicles and the fire department’s Jeep. The volunteers didn’t seem to be in a big hurry, and no one was in bunker gear.
“So...not a fire?” he said to Jerry as he greeted him.
“Search and rescue. Someone found the missing hiker’s backpack a few miles from where she disappeared. We’re supporting local SAR teams for a full-scale search of the area.” Jerry tilted his head and gave Brody a measuring look. “That leg of yours up to a hike in the mountains? There’ll be a good bit of climbing, rough terrain.”
Brody returned a nod. “I’m good to go.”
“Let’s load up then. We’re meeting the rest of the search team at the foot of the nearest trail to where she was spotted and initiating the grid search from there.”
Brody piled into the Jeep with his fellow volunteer firefighters, who’d also been trained in search and rescue. The other men greeted him with handshakes, fist bumps and jokes about being a rotisserie chicken as they welcomed him back into the fold. Thirty minutes later, they’d reached the meeting place where a dozen or so other men and women, decked out in hiking gear, two-way radios and area maps awaited them.
As Brody climbed out of the Jeep and scanned the faces around him, smiling at old acquaintances from previous searches, a newly familiar voice reached him from behind. “Blue Eyes?”
He turned and spotted Anya grinning at him from a cluster of searchers unloading medical supplies. Her thick black hair was hung in a single braid down her back, the way it had the day they first met in the ER, and she was garbed in khaki cargo pants, hiking boots and a long-sleeved plaid shirt over a T-shirt. His spirits lifted at the sight of her, his pulse ticking faster, but he didn’t stop to analyze why he was so pleased to see her. He grinned widely as he crossed the distance to her. “Why if it isn’t my favorite ER nurse. You’re going out on the search today?”
She lifted her arms from her sides and gave a little shrug. “I am. My first one.” She aimed her thumb behind her. “My friend Jenny has done this for years and asked me if I wanted to be part of the team. She said having people with medical training on the searches is always helpful.”
Brody nodded. “It is. First search, huh?”
Her eyes widened as if intimidated by the thought. “Yeah. As in, I only completed the training a couple weeks ago.”
“Stick with me. I’ll help you out,” he said, then realized how it sounded and added, “I mean, I’m sure you’ll be fine. And...anyone out here will be glad to help you if—”
Anya laughed and touched his shoulder. “I feel like you should be beeping now, with the way you’re backing off your offer. You don’t want to partner with me on the search?”
“No! I mean, sure! I’d love to partner with you. Although...we don’t so much partner as walk a grid—” Brody stopped himself, embarrassed at how rattled he sounded. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “But you knew that.”
She chuckled. “I did.”
“Everyone circle up! Let’s get started!” Jerry called through a bullhorn.
As Brody and Anya made their way closer to the rest of the searcher group for instructions, she gave him an apologetic look. “I’m afraid if you don’t want me to call you Blue Eyes all day, you’re going to have to remind me of your name. I’ve seen a lot of patients come through my exam room since last summer and name retention is not my strong point.”
He nodded. “Of course. Brody Cameron. And you’re Anya?”
“Wow! Very good. How’d you—”
He flashed a crooked smile. “I cheated. I read it off your name tag at Eddie’s earlier this week.”
“Ah.” She wagged a finger at him. “Right.”
From the bullhorn, Jerry began giving general greetings and directions. “It’s already almost two o’clock, so we only have about five and half hours of daylight. We’ll need to be back here by sunset. I don’t want anyone out on the mountain after dark. One lost hiker is quite enough. We don’t need lost searchers, too.”
Jerry then directed the assignment of two-way radios. “Thanks to budget constraints, we only have ten radios. That should be enough for every other person on the line to have one. Command will be on channel three. Everyone else on channel one. The missing woman’s name is Sophie Bane. If you find anything, report to your squad leader. All right, let’s head out.”
As the searchers formed a single file line, spaced about six feet apart, Brody received a radio, shifted his backpack of supplies to his back and took his place. Anya joined the formation next to him.
Conversation was frowned upon as a distraction. Not only were searchers expected to pay full attention to the ground they were covering for signs of the missing hiker, but volunteers needed to be able to hear each other and their radios should anything be found. Just the same, Brody and Anya found ways through hand signals and facial expressions to communicate brief messages.
Thumbs-up—You’re doing a great job.
Tongue out panting—I’m getting hot.
Canteen held up—Want some of my water?
A wave and head shake—No, thanks.
Raising her canteen—I have plenty.
Tapping his wrist with furrowed brow—How long have we been at this?
Lifting two fingers—Two hours.
Brody rubbed his leg, and Anya noticed. Frowned. Pointed at his thigh—You okay?
He shrugged. Nodded—I’m fine.
Mid-afternoon, a whistle blew and radios crackled with Jerry’s voice. “Let’s take a break, folks. Rest. Drink up. Stay hydrated. Have a snack, and we’ll get started again in about ten minutes.”
Brody stuck a small flag in the ground to mark where he’d left off and strolled over to the large rock Anya had found to sit on. He joined her and dug in the pocket of his backpack for an energy bar. He broke off half and offered it to her. “Wanna share?”
“Thanks, but I brought—” she dug in her cargo pants leg pocket and extracted a granola bar, “—this.”
He tapped his energy bar to her granola snack. “Cheers.”
“Couldn’t ask for a prettier day to do this,” Anya said, casting her gaze to the cloudless sky. A light breeze ruffled a few loose strands of her hair near her ears, and Brody was struck again by how beautiful she was. Her thin, straight nose; oval face; fine bone structure.
She caught him staring. “What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Sorry.” He glanced at the sky. “Yeah. Beautiful day.”
“If I remember correctly, you have a big family. I recall several siblings in the ER and later in your room. Right?” Anya said.
“Yep. Three sisters and one broth—”
A strange cracking sound interrupted Brody. He frowned as he glanced in the direction the sound had come, just as another loud pop rent the air. Brody tensed, sitting taller and looking around for the source of the noise. Tree branch breaking? Fireworks?
“What the hell?” another searcher shouted. “That sounds like—”
Another crack. The ground near Brody’s feet exploded, sending dirt and pebbles flying.
Without pausing to overthink the oddity of what was happening, Brody grabbed Anya and yanked her to the dirt behind the rock where they’d been sitting, hip to hip.
“What’s happening?” Anya asked, her voice vibrating with fear and confusion.
From behind the cover of the granite boulder, he glanced at the grass where the dirt had erupted. Something metallic reflected the sunlight. Brody blinked and his gut swooped.
A rifle bullet.
Jerry shouted through the radios, “Gunfire! Take cover!”
Chapter 3
Gunfire?
Anya struggled to process the truth as the other searchers screamed and scattered in different directions.
One moment she was enjoying the peaceful and scenic view of the Smoky Mountains and blue sky, the next, Brody was yanking her into the dirt and covering her body with his as a bullet hit the ground inches from where they were sitting. The dissonance was hard to compute.
“Is it...a hunter?” she asked, hearing the tremble in her voice.
Brody shook his head. “Not unless they’re hunting humans. They have a clear view that they’re shooting at people, not animals.”
“But why...?” More shots rang out, cutting her off.
She flinched, and Brody hugged her tighter against him.
“Good question,” he said when things grew quiet again. “If this were still Prohibition, I’d say we were close to stumbling across someone’s moonshine.”
Anya scoffed a humorless laugh. “Maybe it’s something similar. An illegal crop?”
Brody puffed out a breath. “Who knows.” He stretched to look out from their hiding place. “Look, we have to move,” he said, his tone urgent. “We don’t have enough cover here.”
As if to prove his point, another bullet pocked the earth near her feet. She yelped and drew her knees closer to her chest, which only meant her tush was sticking farther out from the protection of the barrel-size rock the two of them huddled behind.
Brody levered up to cast his gaze around the meadow where they’d been resting. “It’d be nice to know where the shooter is first.”
