Page 4 of Fool Me

HARLOWE

It’s hard to believe somebody’s worst day could be this pretty. But life has taught me you’re most vulnerable when your guard is down.

Matt, the hiker we’re out here for, didn’t plan on needing to be rescued today. Wide-open blue skies called, and he set out on a hike without a care in the world. It’s twelve miles out and back to Caribou Basin. Stunning wildflowers and a chance to see wildlife make it popular with backpackers and day hikers. The hike is hard but rewarding.

If Matt hadn’t broken his ankle and been stuck out here with no shade or water, it would have been one hell of a day.

“You’re an angel,” Matt says, his teeth chattering as he stares past me at the bright blue sky. “Maybe my ex was right and I am an uninteresting snoozefest, but at least I got a story out of it—I got saved by the prettiest girl in Wyoming.”

“Not an angel,” I say with a laugh, pushing back the sleeve of his overpriced Dri-FIT shirt. My fingers press into his wrist, finding clammy skin and a thready pulse. Echo, my search-and-rescue dog, whines, pressing his nose into my side. “Exes are exes for a reason, and it sounds like you’re better off.”

“She was right,” he says, dejectedly. “I’ve got no business being out here. I should have stuck to video games. What kind of idiot pops his water bladder when he’s stuck on the trail in the sun with a busted ankle?”

“More people than you think.” My arm comes away damp when I swipe the sweat from my forehead. There’s a huff as Echo plops down in the dirt next to me, finding a spot in the shade that we moved Matt to. “Good boy.”

God, it’s hot—hotter than the forecast called for. The temperature has been climbing all day, and it’s even hotter here in the basin. We’re prepared for any conditions, but this is the first day this summer that the temps have climbed so high, taking all of us by surprise.

Focusing on Matt, who’s most definitely not just dealing with a broken ankle like he thought when he called nine-one-one earlier today, I resume assessing him.

“I don’t know, you sure look like an angel. Plus, you’re here to save me and your hair is glowing,” he slurs.

“If you look real close, you’ll see the braids are there to hide her horns,” Travis, our grizzly Incident Commander, says into the radio from a few feet away.

Unmistakable raspy laughter comes through the radio, like my dad is sitting right next to me instead of at his desk in the command center, and then he’s rattling off questions about Matt’s condition and our location. Even in the midst of everything else, that thought makes my chest swell with pride. James Corbin taught me everything I know about leadership and dedication, and I just hope that when it’s my turn, the team trusts me to lead the way he does.

I glare at Travis, but it’s all in fun. If I could have picked anyone to take over for my dad in the field since the avalanche two years ago, it would be him. Our team is closer than ever after almost losing my dad, and being the last line of defense whensomeone’s life is on the line is hard enough. If you don’t respect and trust the people you’re going through the unthinkable with, you’re not going to last long in wilderness search and rescue.

Conrad, our third, sets the medical kit down next to Matt and immediately gets to work stabilizing his ankle, securing it with a splint to prevent further injury.

“Ice packs,” I say when he’s done.

Matt shakes his head, his whole body trembling. “No. I’m already cold.” His teeth chatter, but his skin is burning up.

“You’re dehydrated and overheated from sitting in the sun all day,” I explain, keeping my tone even so I don’t freak him out. I take the ice pack and scissors from Conrad. “It’ll feel cold, but your body needs help cooling down.”

Gripping Matt’s shirt at the hem, I roll it up.

“You’re not going to cut it, are you? My ex, Kayla, bought it for me and it’s my favorite.”

“The one who called you a snoozefest?” Conrad raises an eyebrow at Matt.

“The one and only.” Matt turns from Conrad to me. “She had pretty hair like you. But I think you’re probably nicer. Cut the shirt.”

“You heard the man. The shirt goes,” Conrad says.

“You’re sure?” I ask Matt, happy to do this for him if it helps heal him in a different way.

“Fuck, yeah. Cut it.” His voice trembles, but his eyes are filled with conviction. And when the trauma shears slice his shirt, Matt grins triumphantly.

I place the ice packs, and next to me, Echo whines again, pulling my focus.

“Trav!” I holler noticing the drool around Echo’s mouth. “A hand, please.”

Travis kneels next to me, radio still in-hand.

“We need an air evac,” I tell him, confident in my assessment and letting my intuition take over. “Can you help Conrad while I check on Echo?”

Travis takes my place beside Matt, who’s stable for the moment, and I shift my attention to Echo.

---