Page 3 of Take Me to the Valley

Being a nurse and between jobs right now, they thought I'd be the perfect one to help out. Even though their logic is sound, it’s not something I want to do. I had made them swear they wouldn't dump it all on me and now they’re trying to once again.Before I know it, they’ll be depending on me too much because I’m home and it’s convenient for them. It’s one of the many reasons I left. I needed my own life.

As I round a corner, a deer darts across the road. I miss it by just a few inches, making my heart race. Maybe crossing the Whiskey River Mountains for the first time in years at night wasn't such a great idea. But now I'm just determined to get into town and relax.

My family doesn't think I'm getting in until tomorrow, so I can head right to my rental and have a day of peace before they descend on me. That’s why I decided to drive straight through instead of stopping for the night.

I love my family, but with four brothers, it can be a bit much. They are super protective. Even though I'm older than three of them, they still treat me like I'm the baby and need to be taken care of. I hated it in school. If someone so much as said one bad word about me, the four of them were jumping or picking a fight with that person. Now, as an adult, I appreciate it, but I still need my space.

It also doesn't hurt that my best friend in the whole world still lives in Whiskey River. Kaylee and I both left to go to school, and then she moved back to Whiskey River while I moved away. We still talk multiple times a day and we visited each other or took friend-cations multiple times a year, but it will be really nice to be closer.

The day I told her I was moving back to Whiskey River, Montana, she let out a squeal that was so loud that I'm sure they heard her down in Utah.

As I round one of the sharper curves on the mountain, the sight that greets me has me slamming on my breaks. There is a car that has run off the side of the road. The guard rail seems to have stopped it, but the tail end of the car is pointing up in the air, all the lights are still on, and the tires are spinning like the incident just happened.

Pulling my car off to the side of the road, I turn on the flashers, and grab my phone as I run over to the other car. There is a woman in the car unconscious with blood on her forehead and face. She is alone in the car, and it looks like a tree has stopped her from going over the edge. Since everything seems to be stable, I check my phone and I'm grateful to find I have service.

“911, what's your emergency?” a woman answers my call.

“I'm on Whiskey Mountain and came up on a car that crashed over a guardrail and into a tree. A young woman in the car is unconscious and bleeding from her head,” I tell her.

After asking me a few questions about the location, she has me to stay on the phone with her.

“She is starting to come to. I'm an RN with some emergency experience,” I say.

“What is going on? Where am I?” The woman in the car asks.

“Hi, I'm Calista, please don't move. You’ve been in a car crash. Help is on the way,” I tell her.

Her hand goes to her head, and she moans when she sees the blood.

“There was a bear…. On the road,” she groans.

“Ma'am, a deputy is a few minutes out. EMS is still ten minutes out,” the 911 operator says.

Then she has me run through a list of questions to ask the woman in the car.

I find out she was heading home to Helene after spending the day in Whiskey River. While her memory seems to be intact, she’s hazy and is fading in and out. Patiently, I ask the rest of the questions: can she move her arms, legs, is she in pain, and did she hit her head.

We finish the questions just as flashing blue lights, and sirens fill the air. Relief hits me that someone is here to help her, but I know my night is far from over. There will be a million questions. I sigh, letting go of my fantasies of a lazy quiet night before everyone invades my new apartment.

“The officer is here,” I tell the dispatcher, and we end the conversation.

I put the phone in my pocket as the officer walks up. When I Iook up, our eyes meet and he freezes on his way to the car. Ismile at those familiar hazely green eyes. “Evan Greer?” I ask. I’m shocked that of all the people in town, he is who I run into when I'm trying to sneak in under cover.

Even though I know my brothers will know I'm in town before I even get to my doorstep, I can't help but smile. Evan is my younger brother's best friend and one of my favorites of my brother's friends.

“Calista?” Evan asks, shock clear in his voice.

Then, shaking his head, he moves to the front of the crashed car. I lean against the guardrail making sure I stay out of the way while he talks to the woman in the car.

Once the ambulance shows up, they take over, and Evan comes walking over to me. It’s hard for me to combine the rail-thin, crazy as my brother, full of energy kid he was in high school with the man that fills out a police uniform like no one should, who is standing in front of me.

“Your brother said you weren't getting in until tomorrow,” he says at my side as we both watch the EMTs do their job.

“I was trying to sneak in under the radar to have a peaceful night to myself before they swarmed my place tomorrow. So much for that,” I sigh.

“Well, I won't say anything until I see Cody again, which won't be for a few days,” he says.

“That would be amazing. I love my family but…” I trail off, not sure I want anything I say to get back to them.

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