Page 7 of Shared By the Mountain Men

“That’s the most sleep I’ve gotten since starting the Colorado Trail,” I admitted.

Ash gave a silent wave to Jack, then mounted the bike and rode away. Watching him, a pool of warmth settled into the base of my stomach as I remembered the way he had carried me like I weighed nothing. The warmth began to tingle.

Shut up, lady-parts, I cursed myself.I’m not attracted to enormous dudes covered in tattoos.

“He’s… an interesting character,” I said.

Jack snorted. “If you can get past the rough exterior, he’s a really good guy. Let’s get you inside.”

By now, my ankle was swollen up to the size of a softball, and had turned a wicked shade of purple. But I could put more weight on it now than I could on the trail, and I was able to limp into the waiting room without Jack’s help.

“Jack!” the receptionist behind the desk greeted happily. “Didn’t expect to see you today. Thought you were clearing trails in the San Juans.”

“Picked up a stray while I was there.” He jerked his head toward me. “Is Noah working tonight? It’s kind of an off-books situation.”

The receptionist nodded in understanding. “Go on back to exam room four. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“You’re a peach.”

The medical center was mostly deserted at this time of night. I had to do some mental math to figure out that it was a Tuesday. We went into the exam room and closed the door.

“Thanks for getting me here,” I said, sitting on the examination table. “You don’t have to babysit me though, if you’ve got better things to do.”

Jack crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I want to chat with Noah to make sure he doesn’t charge you.”

“Oh, right.”

While we waited, I tried flexing my ankle. I had almost no range of movement; if I attempted to point my toes at the ceiling, my foot tilted less than an inch.

I tried a little too hard, and hissed in pain. “Stop that,” Jack said.

“I’m seeing how bad it is.”

“You can see how bad it is based on the color of your skin,” he replied dryly. “Unless it’s normally that shade of violet.”

Ignoring him, I bent down and massaged it. The skin was swollen and tender. It was a reminder that I was an idiot who didn’t know what she was doing, and had bitten off more than she could chew.

No. I dismissed that thought. Anyone could roll their ankle, regardless of experience.

Sighing, Jack went to a mini-fridge in the corner of the room and pulled out a reusable ice pack. Without asking if he could, he bent down and pressed it against my ankle.

“I’ve got it,” I hissed, taking the pack from him.

He rose, held out his palms defensively, and took up his position against the wall again.

“I’ve had a bad day,” I muttered. “Sorry I’m grumpy.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Jack pulled out his phone, so I instinctively did the same and plugged it into the outlet so it could charge. This was the first time I’d had any juice since it died yesterday, so turning it on felt like a return to civilization even more than being in an honest-to-God building with air conditioning.

A flurry of texts from my friends and family came in first, but I opened the Maps app first. I wasn’t good with geography, and hadn’t done much research on Colorado towns beyond what was near the trail route. I had no idea where Crested Butte was, and assumed it was somewhere in southwestern Colorado near the trail where Jack had parked.

But when I zoomed out on the map, I did a double-take. “We’re in the middle of Colorado?”

Jack frowned at me. “As opposed to the middle of Texas?”

I hopped to my feet and almost fell before steadying myself on my good ankle. I limped over to Jack and showed him my screen. “You picked me up way down here. And now we’re way the hell uphere.”

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