Lily rose at five for the second morning of walk-in clinic. This time she was alone downstairs in the lodge except for the kitchen staff and carried her coffee outside to the porch along with an apple muffin, still warm from the oven. A glance toward the parking lot showed no sign of Chase’s Jeep. The emergency must be serious if Chase was still out on the call. The nagging worry blossomed again, and she pushed it aside. Chase was an expert and equipped to handle whatever she faced out there. She was the one out of her element, which no doubt brought on the anxiety over what Chase might be dealing with. Not every emergency led to a disaster like the first deluge of infections that caught her and every other doctor in the country unprepared. This wasn’t the same. She needed to find her balance again, that was all.
But she’d feel better when she saw Chase again.
At six when she unlocked the clinic, she found another note on the floor and smiled. This was obviously Sarah’s favorite mode of communication, which struck her as sweet and very Sarah. Her smile disappeared as she unfolded the note and scanned the unfamiliar tight, precise script.
They tell you to say something to someone if you see something wrong. I think there’s something wrong in cabin 8. A couple of the girls are saying Marty doesn’t belong with the rest of them, and trying to get some of the others to go along. This isn’t fair and I thought someone should know. Thank you.
“Ah, hell,” Lily muttered. She wasn’t surprised cliques formed among the campers—they did in most social situations where some people needed to seek out the like-minded to feel safe. Often at the expense of others. Wasn’t that the norm for high school and even college? Bullying, though, took that natural like-seeking-like behavior and injected a toxicity that was far more common now, or at least far more overt. Maybe this hadn’t reached the point of outright bullying, but she certainly didn’t want it to. She wondered who’d left the note.
Marty?
Someone else in cabin eight?
Lily pulled out the roster sheet again and opened her computer to match names with faces. She already knew Ford Langford was in eight—they’d met on the porch that first day. Marty Riley. She focused on each face, linking it to a name, and paused when she came to another familiar face—the redhead Ford had been with the day before. Shannon Kelly.
Lily closed the files. She’d learned as a med student not to jump to conclusions, even when the answer seemed obvious. She needed more information, and she needed an expert consultation. Or two.
She texted Sarah first, then Alisha, to ask to meet as soon as they could. Before she got a response from either of them, a knock sounded at the door and a pretty brunette came in.
“Hi,” she said, “I’m Dee Murphy from cabin six. I think I did something to my arm yesterday because it hurts every time I lift it.”
“Well, let’s have a look. Come on in,” Lily said.
While Lily counseled Dee to use OTC anti-inflammatories and a cryosleeve, which she provided—because Sarah had ordered everything with the state’s generous health budget—for Dee’s tennis elbow, Lily got a text from Sarah.
Meet us when you finish in my office
When Lily arrived, Sarah was behind a big cluttered oak desk, a cup of coffee in hand. Alisha sat in a navy camp chair in a damp T-shirt. Her hair, a mass of inky curls, looked wet too.
“Were you swimming?” Lily asked. “Sorry to call you away.”
“Not a problem,” Alisha said.
“What’s up?” Sarah asked.
Lily showed them the note. “Marty Riley identifies as nonbinary. They also have a history of clinical depression.”
Sarah winced. “That’s a flaw in our system I’ll have to address. We didn’t get a flag there.”
“Probably because Marty’s parents didn’t identify any outstanding heath issues on the intake form. I only saw it because I read through them yesterday.”
Alisha said, “We have to assume there’s something going on, even though it could be one of those transient power plays with some girls staking out their territory. Then once everyone sorts themselves out, it quiets down.”
“It’s also possible,” Sarah said, “that Marty has been bullied before.”
“We can’t be sure unless we talk to Marty,” Lily said. “I wanted to meet with them anyhow. I think a one-on-one is the best first step, and then I can refer them to you, Alisha, if they want to talk to someone in the future.”
“That’s fine,” Alisha said. “Just keep me in the loop. Marty should be at breakfast about now.”
Lily rose. “Thanks. I’ll go find them.”
* * *
Lily had waited until Marty had finished breakfast to ask them to come by the clinic for a few intake questions.
“My office is this way,” Lily said, leading Marty to the informal room adjoining the treatment area. When Marty settled on the chair that matched the worn leather sofa where Lily sat, she said, “I routinely review everyone’s medical history to be sure I’m prepared if anyone needs me for any reason.”
Marty nodded, their brown-eyed gaze direct and serious. Like all the other campers, they wore the casual uniform of T-shirt—this one with the logo of a band Lily didn’t know, khaki cargo shorts that came down to their knees, and substantial-looking hiking boots with tall, heavy gray socks. Their sandy hair was cut in a floppy shag.
“Your form says you’ll be bringing your own meds. Are you all set there?”
“I’m fine,” Marty said, shifting subtly on the chair.
“Good. If you need refills, let me know. If you want to talk to anyone at any time, I’m available, as is Alisha.”
“Okay.”
Lily leaned forward. “I have to ask you something, and I’m sorry if it seems intrusive. Are any of the other campers in your cabin making you uncomfortable in any way?”
“Why?”
“Because someone suggested that might be happening.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Someone left a note.”
“It wasn’t me.”
“Okay. A friend, I guess.”
Marty’s brows drew down. “That’s weird. I don’t really know anyone here. It’s my first time at this camp.”
“So no problems?” Lily asked again. “I don’t really know what prompted the note. All I care about is that you’re not being harassed or made to feel uncomfortable in any way.”
“I’m fine.”
Lily nodded. Not an answer, but that wasn’t surprising. Kids often didn’t want to bring authority figures into their interactions, fearing that would make them even more of a target.
“I want you to know that any kind of bullying, even verbal jabs, is not okay. We will address it and put a stop to it. No exceptions.”
Marty regarded her a long moment. “That’s not always so simple.”
“I know in school there are lots of ways kids can gang up on other kids, especially with social media, but that’s not the situation here. If there are campers causing problems for other campers, we’ll send them home.”
“You’d do that? Even if they’re, like, important?”
“You’re important, Marty.”
“I’m okay,” Marty repeated.
“All right, then. I’ll be here, anytime, night or day,” Lily said as she walked Marty out. Now all she could do was keep watch and hope she’d made a connection Marty would trust.
The rest of her day passed quickly as the morning schedule of activities kept everyone busy, and as the hours went by with no sign of Chase, she tried to ignore her disappointment. Even Natalie didn’t show up for the afternoon introduction to wilderness campsite setup, with Alisha and Phillipe filling in for her. Lily had half decided to ask Nat about Chase’s whereabouts and probably ought to be grateful she hadn’t the chance. Everyone, including Chase, made it perfectly clear Chase would rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than here at the lodge.
Lily’s relationships, when she’d had time for them, were always mutually compatible arrangements that worked for both parties—low-key, nondemanding, convenient. She did not spend time wondering or worrying about when she might see someone next.
Now was definitely not the time to start. As evening came and went, she kept busy until she could slip away to bed. Where she absolutely did not think about Chase much at all.
* * *
Just shy of dawn, Chase slowed at the turnoff for the lodge, hesitating. If she traveled another ten miles up the road, she’d reach the off-road trail up to her cabin, and she could sleep in her own bed for the first time in three nights. Any bed, for that matter. But she’d already missed the first two days of camp, and Sarah wouldn’t let her forget about it for a month if she missed much more. And then, there was Lily. She’d broken their date. Maybe not a date, exactly, but she’d been looking forward to taking Lily into town. Lily’d interested her from the first time they’d met, with her slightly prickly facade, quick wit, and drop-dead sexy…brain. Chase chuckled. Yeah, and the great body, the amazing kisses, and the sadness that crept into her eyes all too often. The sadness more than almost anything else got to her, made her want to know why, made her want to wipe it away.
When the callout came, she hadn’t had any way to tell Lily she was leaving or how long she’d be gone, because she hadn’t known, and once she was out in the mountains, there was no way to communicate with anyone except the base station, and she wasn’t about to ask one of the other rangers to give her friend an update on her schedule. Couldn’t even call her girlfriend, and even if she could, that’s the last thing she would’ve done. She wouldn’t hear the end of it for a year. Probably more. Long after Lily had disappeared.
So now she wanted to see her. And if she wanted to see her, she’d have to go back up to the lodge. Grab an hour or so of sleep. Maybe see if Lily could work in that trip to town. But she was damned if she was gonna crawl into bed in the clothes she’d been wearing for two and a half days, and feeling like she’d been beaten all over for most of that time. A shower wasn’t gonna be enough. She eased the Jeep as quietly as she could into the parking lot as the sky lightened, dug around in the back until she found a clean set of clothes and a fairly clean towel, and headed down to the lake. Like most nights this time of year, the air was a little crisp, but she needed the refreshing.
She was tired, bone-deep physically, weary from climbing up rocky escarpments and rappelling down sheer rock faces, worn down by the strain of searching for almost forty-eight hours over rugged terrain still muddy from snow runoff, into areas that would be off-limits for hikers even at the height of the season. The dogs had led them through it, and the rest of the team’d followed as quickly as they could without risking someone breaking a leg or worse. Her stomach tightened. She knew what worse could mean. The weeks of pain, wondering if you’d ever be able to move the way you had before, the rehab where the progress was so slow it was hard to believe there’d ever be an end to it. And then when you finally reached the end, discovering you’d never be who you were before. What you were before.
Exasperated, she threw off the melancholy that came with exhaustion. She knew what it was about. Lack of sleep, not enough food, and an outcome that she’d never get used to. She reached the dock and stripped off, leaving her dirty clothes next to her boots in a pile, and set her clean clothes and towel within reach at the end of the dock. She dove in and let the water, warmer than the air around her, start to loosen some of the tension in her muscles and the aches that were deeper than that. She swam out a distance and then flipped onto her back, eyes closed, shadows dancing across her eyelids as the first whisper of dawn crept over the mountaintops. In another half an hour, the lodge would come to life. She ought to sleep, but her stomach rumbled. Coffee, some kind of sandwich, and she’d have enough energy to get through whatever headache of a schedule Sarah had waiting for her. She stroked leisurely back to the dock, reached up with both hands on the edge, and pulled herself up and out of the water.
“Oh!” Lily said. “Oh. Sorry.”
Chase flipped the wet hair from her face with one hand and blinked away the water from her eyes. Nope, not a mirage. Lily in a loose white shirt and shorts that stopped just above her knees, spinning around at the foot of the dock, putting her back to Chase. From where Chase was standing, she could tell Lily had folded her arms across her chest as if warding off a chill. The air was a little cool, but she didn’t think that was the problem.
Grinning to herself, she reached for the towel. “Morning.”
“I didn’t think you’d be here. I’m very sorry to disturb you.”
“I’m not disturbed. Are you disturbed?”
“I’m…” Lily still hadn’t turned around. “Are you decent?”
“Haven’t been accused of that recently.”
Lily’s hands came to her hips. Back stiff. “You know what I mean.”
“It’s just a body, Lily,” Chase said quietly as she finished drying off.
“Well, is the just a body covered up yet?”
“Working on it.” She pulled on jeans and reached for her T-shirt. “All good.”
Lily turned and Chase grinned, pulling the T-shirt over her head a second later.
“That was juvenile,” Lily said.
“Are you mad?”
“No. That would be juvenile too.” Lily came down the dock toward her, and Chase’s stomach tightened. She’d been playing with her a little bit, but she liked Lily looking at her. She’d like it a lot more if Lily touched her. She stuffed the tail of her T-shirt into her jeans as if that would somehow erase her desire for more. It wasn’t working.
“Did you just get back?” Lily asked.
“Yeah,” Chase said with a sigh. “How’s things been around here?”
Lily lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know if I could say routine or not. I don’t think there’s any particular problem.”
“Is Ford Langford causing any trouble?” At Lily’s questioning look, she added, “Her parents obviously thought she needed watching—since they angled for more on-site security.”
“Not that I’ve seen.” Lily sighed. “She happens to be in the cabin where there might be some trouble brewing, but it could just be teenage drama. I don’t know why I didn’t expect that.”
Chase shook her head. “See, that’s why the camp makes me crazy. Too many hormones, too much drama. Who needs it?”
Lily laughed. “How old are you?”
Chase smirked. “Why?”
“Because you sound like you’re ninety.”
“I’m twenty-five.”
“You can’t have forgotten what it was like to be a teenager, then.”
“I wasn’t like that,” she said quietly.
Lily cocked her head, the dawn light bright enough now for Chase to see her clearly. She’d pulled her hair back with some kind of hair tie, and her eyes were clear and bright. She looked great in that loose shirt that still managed to cling in all the right places, and the shorts left a lot of leg to admire. Still those damn running shoes.
“What were you like?” Lily murmured.
Chase ran a hand through her hair. She was too tired for this conversation. “I didn’t have any questions about who I was. I knew exactly what I was gonna do.” She laughed shortly. “I just needed to grow up fast enough to do it.”
“Be a ranger, you mean.”
“No,” Chase said, “that was not my plan.” She leaned down and bundled up her dirty clothes.
“What was your plan, then?” Lily asked.
“Some other time, Lily.” Chase sighed. “Sorry, just…long story.”
“You’re tired, aren’t you,” Lily said.
“No, I’m fine,” Chase said quickly.
“Have you had any sleep since you left here the other night?”
“Did I wake you up?”
“I didn’t realize it was you,” Lily said. “I heard a vehicle leave. I guess I should’ve known it was you, but I wasn’t used to things around here. No one else seems to stir between sundown and dawn, except Sarah. I think she’s always up late.”
“I end up going out most nights,” Chase said. “We get a lot of calls, and in the summer, it’s pretty much all the time. Sometimes I don’t even get to the messages until midnight.”
“Not a job for the fainthearted.” Lily walked beside Chase back to shore. “What was it?”
“Missing hiker,” Chase said. “She was twenty-four hours late for check-in, but her friends kept expecting her to show up at any time, because she always did, and then they finally let us know.”
“Solo hiker?” Lily asked.
“Yeah.” Chase let out a long breath. “Not unusual up here at all. I always used to go out alone.”
“Yes, but you were born climbing, I’ll bet.”
Chase gave her a quick look. “Why do you say that?”
Lily looked surprised. “I know that you grew up in the mountains, and I’ve seen you look at them. They call you, don’t they?”
“They do,” Chase said flatly. “They won’t be calling this girl anymore. We needed the dogs to pick up her trail. She’d been making a serious climb, probably got onto a muddy patch that looked solid and wasn’t. She went into a ravine.”
“She was gone?” Lily asked.
“Yeah. We couldn’t get the chopper in when we found her, and we needed to rappel down. Carry her out. It just took us a while.”
“I’m sorry. That’s horrible.”
“It happens more times than you think every year.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier, I know.” Lily slipped her hand around Chase’s forearm. Her grip was warm and comforting, and Chase’s body hummed as if Lily was infusing her with strength.
“It helps that you understand without me explaining,” Chase said.
“What you need is something to eat and a few hours’ sleep.”
“I definitely need the food. I’ll have to look at today’s schedule, but I don’t think there’s gonna be any sleep in my future.”
“I imagine we can figure out how to fill the campers’ time without you. The last two days have been nonstop orientation, boating- and water-safety instruction, and I believe today has something to do with survivalist camping—knowledge I sincerely hope I never need to utilize.”
Chase groaned. “That’s definitely going to be me, then.”
“Maybe Natalie can fill in again.”
Chase shot her a look and quickly covered the totally out-of-nowhere spurt of jealousy. Totally not her thing. “Has Nat been here?”
“She came by the first morning for the orientation because you were’t here. Since then, she hasn’t been around. She wasn’t out with you?”
“No, there was an unscheduled burn in another part of the district, and she was on that. She doesn’t usually go out on search-and-rescue unless we need multiple teams to cover the search area. We’ve got the dogs, and we’re all SAR rated.”
“It’s an amazing job that you all have.”
“No more amazing than what you do.” Chase laughed a little. “We just have a better place to do it.”
Lily laughed with her, a lightness to her tone that Chase hadn’t heard before and that struck her with another surge of energy. Lily brought a light into the dark places.
“How would you like to have breakfast with me?” Chase asked.
Lily stopped and searched Chase’s face. When their eyes met, she smiled, and Chase felt the punch all the way to the pit of her stomach. Oh yeah, the heat was still there.
“I would like that very much.”
“Good,” Chase said around a knot of desire in her throat. She wanted her, more than she’d realized.
* * *
Lily thought about the way Chase had looked climbing out of the water, the way the droplets had gleamed on her skin as the first rays of sunlight banished the night. When Chase had bent down for the towel, Lily had caught a glimpse of her back, right before she’d turned her own. The scar down the center of her spine was impossible to miss, and she knew what it meant. A major trauma of some kind, and she could only think of a few ways it might’ve happened. But she couldn’t think of a way to ask.
And then she’d been too busy trying not to keep seeing the muscles in Chase’s shoulders, the curve of her breast as she leaned over, the sweep of her flank, and the power in her backside and thighs. She’d felt some of that body against hers when she had her arms around Chase, when they’d been kissing. She’d imagined it in her mind more than once since, but she’d been far from the mark. Chase was young and strong and beautiful. Looking at her made Lily ache to run her hands down the smooth length of her arms, over the muscles in her chest, and over the fullness of her breasts. Okay—deflection was clearly off the table now—Chase was too hard to ignore and just as impossible to deflect. Especially, Lily admitted ruefully, when she wasn’t working very hard to ignore or deflect her. But engage? That way lay danger—and she’d have to be very careful not to be pulled in by the charm and the grin and the outrageously sexy that streamed off Chase like the clear, cool lake water on a sweltering day.
She had to stop thinking about that right now, or anything else that had to do with Chase Fielder, because she was about to walk into the kitchen, and undoubtedly Sarah would be somewhere nearby.
Sarah had always been good at reading her mind, and today everything about her was probably an open book. She’d rather not start the day having Sarah know she was lusting after her sister.