Page 105 of High Intensity

I’m glad he did, because I don’t think I could find words right now.

“I can’t remember much from the crash,” Hayley admits, as she points at the ledge. “Or how I got up there.”

Then she turns to me and shatters my resolve to keep my shit tight.

“But I sure am glad it was you who found me.”

“So are we, sweetheart,” Lucas answers, because all I can do is nod at her through my tears.

This hasn’t been an easy road for Hayley. She’d never really opened up about the reason she ended up hiding in a cave after the crash before now. After hearing what her father’s virtual last words were to her, I understand. It was all about trust, and it moves me to the core she clearly trusts us enough now to share.

“I am so proud of you,” I choke out. “And so thankful we found each other.”

The midday sun is surprisingly warm when we sit down on a large flat rock overlooking Elephant Peak in the distance. Already new growth is sprouting from trees that were felled when the plane went down. By next spring I’m sure you’d hardly be able to tell what happened here, but the three of us will definitely never forget.

“I think I can feel them here,” Hayley says when she finishes off her burrito and leans up against me. “Is that weird?”

I lift my arm around her shoulders and press a kiss on her head.

“No. I don’t think it’s weird at all. I think it’s wonderful you can still feel their love for you up here.”

Lucas scoots a little closer on her other side.

“We can come up here whenever you want,” he promises, reaching his arm around both of us so Hayley is wedged in the middle. “And in the meantime, I hope you know how muchwelove you.”

“Duh, I knowthat,” she states with an eye roll.

I grin at her cheeky response, but bust out laughing when I glance over her head and catch Lucas looking a little shell-shocked.

Better get used to the attitude, buddy. There will be a lot more where that came from.

Janey

There is nothing as pretty as a spring sunset in these mountains.

Golds and purples streak the sky and reflect off the peaks; almost too much abundance for the eye to take in.

The first few months after taking over Doc Evans’ clinic last year, any time I’d get called out around sunset, I would stop to take pictures. I must have hundreds of them eating up memory in my phone, but none of them come even close to reflecting the depth of colors nature provides.

Tonight, however, I can’t afford to slow down.

I just got home and was looking forward to the leftover lasagna in my fridge, after driving all around the county to administering spring vaccinations, when I got an urgent call from Lucy at Hart Horse Rescue. One of their horses is in distress with what appears to be colic.

It’s not an uncommon ailment, but it’s painful for the animal, and can be dangerous if it involves a twist in the bowel. That’s why proper diagnosis is key. If the horse is simply impacted, the treatment is pain control, mild exercise, and hydration, but if we’re dealing with an intestinal torsion, surgery will be needed. Of course, that would require transporting the horse to the nearest equine hospital, which would be Ponderosa in Kalispell, since I don’t have the facility or the equipment.

When I turn onto the property, I can see the lights are already on at the barn. I don’t bother stopping at the house first and drive straight through, parking my truck right by the barn doors. I have everything I need, including my portable ultrasound, in the back. My truck has a cap on the bed, so I can keep my stuff dry and secure back there.

Bo, Lucy’s husband, is already opening the barn door for me.

“Need me to grab anything?” he asks.

I hold up my field bag. “For now, this is all I need.”

I follow him to a stall that is bathed in light from a flood lamp clamped to a post. Inside Lucy is trying to coax a dark bay mare to get up on all fours. She’s currently sitting on her hind like a dog would and looks to be in obvious distress, her eyes wild and nipping at her own side.

“Okay, let’s get her to her feet first,” I order, dropping my bag in a corner before turning to Bo. “We’ll need a long strap or a rope.”

While he goes in search, I find my stethoscope and try to get a heart rate, which isn’t an easy feat with the horse crazy with pain and sitting in this position.

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