Page 42 of Colton in the Wild
They all laughed, and she knew she’d found the right words to thank them. Spence had stayed mostly quiet since his first wisecrack, but Hetty had the feeling that if she dug down deep enough, she’d find that he had started this.
“Absolutely,” agreed Ryan. Then, his tone suddenly solemn, he added, “After all, RTA got you into this fix. You wouldn’t have been up there if you weren’t working for us.”
“And you’ll be needing somebody around in case you need help with something,” Abby continued. “You’ll need to keep your leg elevated, the dressings changed and probably ice packs for any swelling at first. I’ve arranged to work from home for the next couple of weeks, so we’re all set. And your mother can enjoy her vacation without worrying that you’re alone while you’re healing.”
Hetty sat silently for a moment, staring at this couple she’d always admired. She didn’t know what to say. She truly had been worried that her mother might cancel this first vacation she’d taken in years, to rush home and take care of her. She’d almost done it when she’d first arrived at the hospital, but Hetty had convinced her to go back to her plans and that she would call her if she needed help.
And now she had all the help she could possibly need, and she hadn’t even had to ask.
Because Spence had asked for her. She was sure of that now. And his family had come through, like they always did.
She remembered what he’d told her that night in the cave; the horrible story of the murders of the aunt and grandparents he’d never known. Whether that was the genesis of the Colton trait of helping whoever needed it or not, she didn’t know, but if she had to guess, she would say it probably was. And this time she was the lucky recipient.
On some level beneath the joy, she registered the discomfort as Abby helped her get dressed in the comfortable and thankfully easy-to-put-on clothes they’d brought, and was almost glad to sit in the wheelchair when it was done. Abby also kept talking and, by the way Spence’s mother kept glancing at her, Hetty knew it was to distract her from the pain.
“You’ll have to sign some papers at the desk on the way out, but Spence gave them all the info so you won’t have to spend an hour filling out the rest of the forms,” she was saying.
For the first time since he’d cracked the joke about flying here to get her because he was impatient, she looked up at Spence.
“Thank you,” she said vehemently, hoping he understood she meant not just for the paperwork but for…everything.
He smiled at her, and she hoped she wasn’t kidding herself when she thought she saw understanding in his beautiful blue eyes.
Using her good leg to do most of the work, she actually did manage to step up into the RTA helicopter mostly on her own. Somehow knowing Spence was right there to brace her and keep her from falling made it easier. She looked around the interior for a moment, thinking about the last time she’d been in here, lying across these seats, hurt and bleeding.
Spence climbed in and sat next to her, fussing with the seat belts he’d used then to hold her in place. His mother took the copilot’s seat while Ryan settled in and prepared for takeoff. And as the bird came to life, and things started to whir, Abby looked back at them.
“All set?”
“We’re good. Let’s get out of here.”
Abby smiled widely. “Yes, let’s. And thank you, Hetty.”
Startled, she said, “For what? You’re doing everything for me.”
“But as long as you’re with us, at least we know we’ll see a lot more of Spence.”
His mother was grinning as she turned back to face front as the sound of the engine increased. Hetty risked a glance at Spence. He was staring out the window as if he hadn’t heard a thing.
But he was smiling.
Chapter 22
Ryan and Abby’s house was a lovely, almost sprawling place on a rise, with the vaulted roofs and ceilings familiar to Alaska. But the house almost seemed insignificant compared to the view from all sides. Out the back, the mountains towered. From the front, there was a sweeping view all the way down to the sound. Hetty thought she could easily sit in either place for hours and, as it turned out, she sometimes did. In fact she was delighted when, after she’d gotten the okay from the doctor, Abby suggested she do the exercises the therapist had ordered out on the back deck, where she could see the country she would be able to visit again once she was back to a hundred percent.
She’d expected, because she knew what kind of people the Coltons were, that they would see to it she had everything she needed. And she did. The room they’d provided had a queen-sized bed—which she ended up in embarrassingly early, running out of steam shortly after the lovely dinner they’d had—and its own bathroom, and was a very short walk to the huge kitchen. A walk she’d been able to manage alone—with those crutches she both hated and loved—this morning, the day after her arrival. In part inspired by the luscious smell of something baking in the oven.
What she hadn’t expected was to find just about everything she liked to eat and drink on hand, neatly arranged on the counter and on one shelf in the fridge. They didn’t know her that well, did they?
“If you want anything else, just let us know,” Abby said from where she was setting up a coffee maker. “Spence did the shopping the day before you were released, but he might have missed something.”
Spence had done that? How had he known? Sure, they’d eaten together sometimes, when the length of a job required it, or when it was an RTA gathering, but…had he really been paying that close attention to what she ate? What she ordered at The Cove when the gathering was at the quiet waterfront restaurant? Or what she brought on flights that were going to be long enough she wanted something to snack on?
It seemed impossible, but how else would that specific brand and flavor of crackers be there on the counter? Or, to go with them, that container of her favorite hummus—sold only by that small specialty market—sitting there in the fridge? Even her family didn’t know about that particular craving of hers.
So did that mean that, all this time, even amid all the jabbing and poking at each other, he’d still been noticing small things like this? A memory floated up out of her mind and she knew the answer. She thought back to those days in high school, when she’d been assigned to tutor him. The very idea of tutoring a Colton had had her almost wishing she’d never volunteered for the program, for all that she’d been flattered when they’d approached her about it. But the idea that a Colton had needed tutoring had been enough of a surprise that she’d gone ahead.
And one of the first things she’d noticed about the then sixteen-year-old Spence Colton was that he noticedeverything. He’d been so visually oriented that he seemed to observe and remember everything. And that had eventually been the key, the answer, to his problem with traditional reading.
