Page 6 of Christmas With My Ex

“Not too often,” Benjy says, glancing out at the swirling snow. “But when people get out in the backcountry, they can get intotrouble real fast. Tourists, mostly. They think they can handle it, but it only takes one bad fall.”

I nod, knowing Rives is probably more experienced out there than most, but I don't let him know I know her. She could’ve ended up in much worse shape if Benjy hadn’t spotted her.

Benjy finishes his drink and looks out the window. “Storm’s coming in hard now. If the wind gets bad, they’ll shut down the lifts tomorrow. Just be careful if you’re thinking of heading out.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” I say. "I doubt I'll be going too far. Cold beer and burgers is all I need, as long as they don't close down the Last Dollar Saloon.

He claps me on the shoulder and heads for the door, pulling his jacket tight as he steps back into the cold.

I sit for a while longer, finishing my beer as the storm swirls outside, wondering just how much this trip is going to be derailed by the weather—and by Rives.

THREE

Rives

Bells will be ringing / The glad, glad news / Oh, what a Christmas / To have the blues.

Telluride Mountain Clinic

711 Colorado Avenue

1:01pm

The lightsin the infirmary are too bright, sterile, like every hospital I’ve ever been in. I’m lying on an exam table, my leg propped up, an ice pack resting on my knee and ankle.

My entire leg still throbs, but the initial shock of the fall has faded. Now it’s just the dull ache and the uncomfortable reality that I’m not getting back on the mountain anytime soon.

A nurse walks in, her name tag reading "MEGAN" in neat block letters. She’s got a kind face and an easy manner as she looks at me. “How’re you holding up?”

I give her a weak smile. “I’ve been better.” I’m irritated but trying not to take it out on her.

She laughs, as if that is some kind of novel comment. She starts to flip through the chart at the end of the bed. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse. Backcountry accidents can get pretty serious out here.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, wincing a little as I shift. “I was stupid for going out alone.”

“Eh, it happens. We’ll get you patched up, Rives.”

She pronounces my name like it rhymes with “lives." I get that a lot and it always surprises me when people say it wrong.

She puts the chart down and glances at me, a little curiosity in her eyes. “By the way, your name—Am I saying that right?” She must have read my mind because I don't even bother correcting people anymore.

I nod, used to the confusion. “No, but that's okay. I get it a lot. It’s like ‘leaves’ on a tree, but with an ‘r’ instead of an ‘l.’ Rives. Rhymes with leaves.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Wow, even more unusual than I thought. Is it a family name?”

“It was my mom’s maiden name,” I tell her, the familiar pang hitting me when I mention my mom.

“That’s pretty cool,” Megan says, making a note on her chart. “You don’t hear names like that very often.”

I smile, but my mind is back on my leg. “So… what’s the damage?”

She sets the chart aside and gently lifts the ice pack off my knee, where we have at least identified the source of most of the pain. "Let's see what Dr. Harper says."

A few minutes after Megan finishes wrapping my knee, a handsome silver fox walks in. He has calm, focused eyes. He pulls up a stool next to me, his expression all business as he starts his evaluation.

“Well, Miss Delaney, based on your fall and the symptoms you’re describing, I suspect you’ve got a partial tear of your MCL—the medial collateral ligament in your knee,” he says, carefully examining my leg, pressing along the inside of my knee where the pain is sharpest. “It’s likely why your leg gave out when you tried to stand.”

I frown. “Why a partial tear? How do you know its not a full tear? Not that I'm hoping for that, I just want to go ahead and get all of the bad news at once.”

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