“So what do you think?” Sarah said.
“Hmm?” Lily said absently, moving around the inside of the surprisingly spacious clinic. Chase Fielder. Of course she wouldn’t have recognized her. Chase’d been a child the last time she’d seen her. Not only that, the circumstances had been nothing any of them likely wanted to remember. Sarah and Chase’s mother had just died, six years after their father had been killed in a climbing accident. Sarah had been devastated, and Lily could only imagine the impact on a ten-year-old of losing both parents so young. Chase certainly had changed from the pale, withdrawn girl she remembered, replaced by an imposingly confident, exceptionally good-looking woman, radiating no-nonsense vibes and a raw sensuality she obviously made no attempt to hide. And then why should she. Eligible women like Chase probably had all the attention they could want, and more, in a resort area like this. Assuming she wasn’t already attached. Big assumption there. Although the vibes said no. And there had definitely been vibes.
Lily smiled. Vibes. She hadn’t had a sense of those in over two years. Probably because there were none, but even had there been, she wouldn’t have noticed them. First she’d been too shell-shocked by the rapidity with which the pandemic had engulfed her, and eventually too numbed to any emotion other than duty to notice the absence of sensation in her life. Why had that suddenly changed?
“The clinic?” Sarah said, her voice rising at the end.
“Oh!” Lily drew herself back into the present. Where she promised herself she would stay, no matter what it took. “It’s pretty amazing.”
It really was. The cabin housing the clinic—still made of logs, of course, but finished with a sensible tile floor throughout—was at least three times the size of the others on the mountainside, with a waiting room just inside the entrance and an astonishingly well-equipped treatment area with several exam rooms and one procedure room in the rear. The adjustable table in the center of the procedure room could be converted to an OR table. The overhead lights looked like they’d be right at home in any city OR too. Stainless steel shelves were stocked with bandages, slings, splints, and what appeared to be sterile packages of surgical instruments. She turned to Sarah and folded her arms. “This looks like overkill for a walk-in clinic. You’re not expecting me to do an appendectomy, are you?”
“That’s the state for you,” Sarah said with a grimace. “Last year we didn’t have enough PFDs at the start of the season. I had to advance my own money to cover life vests for all the campers until the POs from the state came through. But we had an unlimited spending budget for healthcare. So”—she waved a hand—“I stocked up.”
“It’s excellent, and as soon as I have a chance,” Lily said, “I’ll go through everything, and if I find any shortages, I’ll let you know.” She frowned and looked around. A red equipment cart with four rows of drawers occupied a spot behind the treatment table. She opened the top drawer, then the next. Epinephrine, lidocaine, bicarb, IVs, bags of saline. Typical cardiac arrest paraphernalia found in every crash cart in every ER in the United States. No analgesics or sedatives. “Is there a drug locker besides that cart?”
“Yes,” Sarah said. “This way.”
A door on the right side of the room led into a small office set up as an informal consultation room with a leather sofa in the center of a big multicolored braided rug, a couple of matching chairs, and an oak desk against one wall that looked like it’d seen a lot of use in a previous life.
“There’s a bathroom in the back.” Sarah gestured toward a tall gray metal cabinet tucked into one corner. “That”—she pointed at the cabinet—“contains a limited supply of prescription pain medication, antipsychotics, sedatives, and morning-after pills. You and I have the only keys.”
“Oh boy,” Lily said. “Will we be needing the morning-after pills?”
“Again, we are prepared,” Sarah said with a shake of her head. “We’ve got forty-eight teenagers, some of them almost ready to head to college. Pretending they don’t have sex is just stupid.”
“I agree. Forty-eight?”
“Uh-huh. Six cabins, divided between the boys and girls, eight to a cabin—four double bunks in each.”
“What about the nonbinary kids?” Lily asked.
“They chose, along with their parents, which cabins they’ll be comfortable in.”
Lily did the math. “I thought I saw eight cabins up there.”
“You did—one for the four male counselors and RAs, one for the other four females.”
“One to six ratio,” Lily remarked. “Good numbers. How tight are the restrictions on…mingling?”
“Our people are living among the campers, twenty-four seven. They’re not in the same sleeping quarters but take a bed check every night. It’s possible, but not easy, for the campers to sneak around after lights out, but we all sleep lightly.”
Lily laughed. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
“Told you.” Sarah backed out of what would soon be Lily’s cabin. “Seen enough? We should head back over to the lodge. Natalie ought to be here any minute.”
“Yes, thanks. The setup is great.” Lily followed Sarah back outside. “So, um, what’s this meeting? Who’s Natalie?”
“I’m not entirely sure what’s up with the meeting. Nat—she’s the district DEC supervisor—called me to set it up with the staff early this morning. You’re part of the staff now,” Sarah said, “so you, Alisha Miller, and Philippe Santiago—the two head counselors—will need to be present at morning briefing, evening review, and any special meetings, like this one.”
“And Chase. Why her?”
“Good question.” Sarah grimaced. “Chase usually avoids the lodge.”
“Why?”
“No idea,” Sarah said, her attention diverted by a green Jeep, a cousin to the one Chase drove, pulling around to the front of the lodge. A trim woman in the familiar green uniform with shoulder-length chestnut hair, a light tan, and a confident stride headed their way.
“Nat,” Sarah said. “This is Lily Davenport, our new medic.”
Once again, Lily took the extended hand. “Good to meet you.”
“Doctor,” Natalie Evans said in a throaty alto. “Natalie Evans. Welcome aboard.”
“Thanks.”
Natalie scanned the small adjacent lot. “I see Chase made it back already.”
“She’s inside,” Sarah said as they climbed the steps to the porch and entered the great room.
A woman who looked about thirty with skin the golden brown of rich oak, in khaki shorts, hiking boots, and a lime green V-neck T-shirt, sat with a pale, thin man with dark wavy hair that draped his high forehead in artfully tangled strands. He had fine features and prominent facial bones that wouldn’t be out of place on a Greek statue. They both nodded as Sarah, Lily, and Natalie walked over.
“Lily,” Sarah said, indicating the two people on a dusky leather sofa that looked like it might seat a dozen more without crowding anyone, “our head counselors…Alisha and Philippe. This is Lily Davenport, our summer medic.”
“Hello,” Lily said, returning their friendly smiles and welcoming greetings. Feeling the sudden fatigue of the long drive and the tense journey up the mountain, she leaned close to Sarah and murmured, “Do I have time to grab another cup of coffee?”
“Have at it,” Sarah said as Nat chatted with the two counselors. “We’re pretty relaxed here, and we’re still waiting on Chase.”
“I won’t be a minute,” Lily said and hurried through to the kitchen. She slowed on her way to the coffee station. Chase Fielder leaned with her hips against the stainless steel counter, a mug of coffee in one hand. She looked relaxed and way too young. Not that that was relevant.
“Dr. Davenport,” Chase said, lifting her mug in Lily’s direction. “Have I mentioned it’s nice to know you’re not one of the parents?”
Lily flushed. “Lily, please.” Lily poured coffee and made a quick decision. Engage, ignore, or deflect? “Why?”
Chase didn’t try to pretend she didn’t understand. “Because you’d likely be involved.”
“A reasonable but not necessarily accurate assumption. I could be a single mother for any number of reasons.”
“Are you?”
“Which?”
“Involved or a single mother?”
“No.” Lily sighed. “Neither of which is relevant to…anything.”
Chase just smiled. “Done with the grand tour?”
“I don’t think so,” Lily said carefully.
“You see the zip line yet?”
Lily narrowed her eyes. “You’re joking.”
“No joke. There’s a climbing wall…well, it’s a rock face. Lots of fun when they get to that.”
“Officer Fielder—”
“Ranger Fielder will do,” Chase said, “but Chase works better.”
“Ranger Fielder,” Lily repeated, emphasis on Ranger, “if you are trying to somehow worry me, you’re wasting your time. I assure you, nothing that might happen here, and I sincerely hope we don’t have any reason to find out, will be a problem for me.”
“Snakes?”
Lily flinched and forced herself not to look around. “Snakes.”
“Yes, as in rattle.”
“Endemic?” Lily asked in her best professional, I-will-not-show-fear voice.
“Very much so.”
“I’ll have to find out about the store of antivenom.” Lily couldn’t recall seeing any in the clinic. She probably should have researched environmental health hazards. A few years ago she might have. Her curiosity had disappeared along with her joy in medicine.
“We have it.”
Lily’s attention snapped back to Chase. “We?”
“All the rangers. In my field box in the Jeep. It’s best if administered on-site. If by chance one of the campers comes across one of the big guys on their way down to the lake, then obviously you will be closer.”
“On the way down to the lake.”
“They like to get into the paths when it’s sunny.” She glanced down. “I would recommend hiking boots at all times.”
Lily took mental stock and realized everyone she’d seen, except her, was wearing hiking boots, even with shorts.
“You have hiking boots?” Chase asked.
“I have…running shoes. Sarah said sturdy shoes. I took that to mean, you know, shoes.”
“Oh boy.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Lily said quickly. “I’ll just run down and buy a pair today.”
“You don’t mean that literally.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The run down part.”
“Ha ha.” The heat was starting to rise in her chest. Chase Fielder was playing with her. And she didn’t appreciate it. She wasn’t afraid of snakes. Not really. She didn’t really know anything about snakes, except she didn’t really want to know anything about snakes.
“I’ll drive down.” Lily turned away. “And now, I believe they’re waiting for us in the other room.”
“I wouldn’t suggest taking that Beemer back and forth,” Chase said amiably as she fell in beside her.
“Then I’ll take the Jeep down. I saw one out there.”
“Probably shouldn’t leave Sarah without a vehicle.”
Lily blew out a breath. “Well, I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
“I’ll drive you into Bolton tomorrow morning.”
“You?”
“I have to take a water sample down to the regional office. Sarah will be busy all day with campers arriving and parents demanding her attention.”
“I’m sure I can—”
“Lily,” Chase said patiently, “it makes the most sense. And you strike me as…sensible.”
Lily gritted her teeth. Sensible. How nice. She could, however, be gracious. “Thank you, I would appreciate that very much. While I’m there, I can rent a vehicle. An appropriate one.”
“Good idea.” Chase frowned and pushed open the big swinging door between the kitchen and the great room. “Now let’s see what’s so important at this camp that Nat had to drag me out of the field.”
Lily couldn’t decide what bothered Chase more—that she’d been pulled out of the field, or that she’d been called to the camp. Something else she wanted to know about Chase Fielder.
* * *
“You can’t be serious.” Chase shot out of her seat and stalked to the twelve-foot-high windows. The view through the trees to Thunder Ridge and the pinnacle above it, High Cloud Peak, sparkling with late snow, was a sight she ordinarily loved, despite the memories. At the moment she had trouble focusing on anything except her new orders.
“It’s only for the summer,” Nat repeated for the third time.
Chase set her jaw, clamping her teeth tightly together to stifle the angry words clawing their way up her throat. Nat was her boss and her friend, and the small rational part of her mind still working clearly understood this wasn’t Nat’s call. She was only the messenger. But damn it, couldn’t she have done something? Protested?
Fucking politics. How far did she have to go to get away from them? She methodically relaxed the muscles in her neck and shoulders and concentrated on steadying her breathing. Somewhere in the long months of rehab, the value of meditation and biofeedback had finally gotten through to her. The negative impact of chronic anger on her body had registered also, and she’d worked hard to break the links. She’d never totally accomplished it, but she’d made progress. Slowly she turned and let out a breath. “Who’s behind this again?”
Nat looked pained for an instant. “State Senator Langford. His daughter is arriving this afternoon.”
“And the family is making this request, why?”
Nat shook her head. Maybe she was just as frustrated as Chase. “I don’t know. I just got the word to make it happen.”
Chase cut a glance at her sister Sarah. “You’re the damn camp director. You didn’t know anything about this?”
Sarah shrugged infinitesimally. “It’s a DEC decision.”
“Right, then.” No help from the home front. “What about field duty?”
“You’ll be on half-time,” Nat said. “Just pull your range in unless there’s an emergency. I’ll alert the other districts to watch our outlying areas.”
“But I have to quarter here?” Chase asked. “I can’t see why—”
“You’ll be working out of this site rather than your home base until further notice.” Nat’s tone was that of command, and Chase accepted it.
“Right. Is there anything else?”
“No, that’s it.”
Chase nodded abruptly in the general direction of the people gathered in the sitting area, spun on her heel, and strode out. She braced both hands on the log rail and looked out across the lake. Midday, early summer, in the mountains. A beautiful time. A crystal-blue sky dotted with pristine fluffy white clouds floated overhead. Too perfect to be real, except she knew it was. Knew too just how quickly the sky turned angry with storm clouds rolling over the mountain peaks, sending floodwaters swollen with snowmelt from the high country into overflowing streams, washing out trails and footbridges, and endangering hikers and campers with flash floods and mudslides. All of this land, this beauty, was hers to protect, and in turn the wilderness gave her purpose and a place.
“Chase,” Sarah said from behind her.
“Just let me know where I’ll be bunking,” Chase said without turning around.
“You can have a room in the lodge or take the loft rooms over the equipment facility. There’s a decent view from up there, a fridge, and a bathroom. You’ll have to get your meals over here with everyone else.”
“I’ll take the loft.” Chase looked at her sister. “You didn’t have a clue?”
Sarah snorted. “Hell no. But even if I had, you know there’s nothing I could do about it. It’s the state.”
“Right, and no one argues with the state.”
“The state has protected what matters most,” Sarah said in the still, quiet voice Chase had heard all her life in times of crisis. “The land. And they put us here to look after it.”
“Would be great if they’d just let us do our job.”
“Well, everything requires money, and the camp program requires campers. And some of our kids might be scholarship kids, but most of them have families who are paying a pretty hefty tuition.”
“And are so used to privilege they don’t mind screwing with other peoples’ lives. I got it.” Chase sighed. “At least you and Alisha will have to deal with the problem child.”
Sarah looked away.
“What?” Chase said.
“I’m just guessing here, but the only reason I can see for moving you into Rob’s place as the DEC coordinator is that you’re female.”
Chase stared. “I’m not babysitting. No way.”
“Of course not.”
“Damn it, Sarah—”
“I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think.” Sarah squeezed her shoulder. “I’ve got some last-minute scheduling to do. The keys to the loft are behind my desk in the office on the keyboard.”
“Right.”
The door behind Chase opened, and Nat passed her going down the steps.
“It’s up to you how you want to balance your time,” she said, stopping beside Chase. “Just make sure everything here is covered, and the rest is up to you.”
“That’s something, I guess.”
“For what it’s worth,” Nat said, “none of us are very happy about it.”
Chase watched Nat’s Jeep disappear down the mountain and caught a hint of citrus and spice. Lily stepped up beside her. Chase’s attention snapped to her, and her anger dissipated.
“I didn’t really follow all of that,” Lily said, “but I did gather that being assigned to the camp is not high on your list of coveted positions.”
“It’s a soft job for the most part,” Chase said. “Organizing the outdoor activities, supervising the away excursions, instructing the campers on wilderness survival. It’s not a bad gig if you’ve spent twenty years on patrol, and that’s why I’m not interested in it.”
“This is too tame for you,” Lily said. “You like being on patrol.”
Surprised, Chase nodded. “I do.”
Lily nodded. “Why?”
Chase answered without thinking. “I like the solitude. I like…never mind. I’m sure you’d find it boring.”
“On the contrary. I’m curious. I don’t have a very good idea of what it’s like for you. Working alone like that every day.”
“It’s peaceful, and beautiful. And challenging. Always something different happening.”
“Always something different happening,” Lily murmured. “You know, I think we are completely opposite. Because the thing I’m really looking forward to this summer is the routine. No surprises.”
Chase leaned her shoulder against the porch post and studied her. For the first time, in the slanting sunlight, she realized that Lily Davenport looked tired. Not tired from lack of sleep, although maybe there was some of that, but weary. Literally worn thin. The urge to brush the shadows away constricted her chest, and she pulled in air. “Why?”
Lily didn’t expect the question and struggled for a few seconds to answer. “I’m an ER doc. I chose the specialty because I loved how different every minute of the day was. Different cases, different challenges, different tests of just how much I knew. I loved the fast pace, I could teach as well as treat, and I could beat the odds—most days at least. And then”—she rubbed her eyes, as if that would erase the images—“well. The pandemic changed everything almost overnight. Different challenges every day still, but not any that I could solve. Hundreds, then thousands, of patients we didn’t expect and didn’t know how to treat. Supplies we couldn’t replenish, space we didn’t have for those who needed it. Every day brought a new problem I couldn’t solve.”
Lily stopped, hearing herself. “I’m sorry. I’m whining about my problems, as if that mattered when people were dying.”
“People you wanted to save,” Chase said matter-of-factly. “Must’ve made you a little crazy.”
Lily almost laughed, the relief was so unexpected. How refreshing, not to hear the sympathy she’d gotten so often from so many. “It practically did. After a while I just got numb to the frustration.”
“I don’t believe that,” Chase said. “If you did, it wouldn’t still be eating at you.”
“It isn’t,” Lily said quickly.
“Okay,” Chase said softly, as if she didn’t believe her. And of course, she was right not to.
Lily appreciated she didn’t push, didn’t try to make her feel better. “I’m sorry that you’re getting saddled with a summer that you’re not looking forward to.”
“There are some positive aspects,” Chase said. “I’ll get to see more of you, for example.”
Engage, ignore, deflect. The last two were impossible. Chase was too persistent, too direct, too damn attractive. “I’m flattered. But—”
“It wasn’t meant as flattery,” Chase said. “I don’t expect you need it or like it. It was a statement.”
“And one I appreciate,” Lily said. “And in the spirit of directness, you should know I’m not interested.”
“In women?”
“In anyone. The only thing I’m interested in this summer is…” If she actually knew what she wanted, she could’ve said so. But the pictures wouldn’t come. “Something…not what I had before.”
“So it’s not that I’m female.”
“No,” Lily said and couldn’t help but laugh. Really. Did Chase really not know she exuded sexy with every breath? “Very much not that.”
“Then, like I said, there are definitely some positives.”
“Are you always this tenacious?” Lily said.
“Yes,” Chase said instantly. “When I set my mind to something.”
“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”
Chase shrugged. “I’ve been disappointed before, but so far it hasn’t kept me from trying.”
Engage, ignore, deflect.
Lily said, “Is our trip into town still on for tomorrow?”
“Yes. Are you an early riser?”
“Always.”
“Good. I’ll be by around seven, if that works for you.”
Engage, ignore, deflect.
It was only a bit of shopping. Lily smiled. “I’ll see you then.”