Page 2 of Emergency with the Mountain Man
The cub is worse than I feared but better than I'd hoped. She's unconscious but breathing steadily, with no obvious external bleeding. Her left hind leg is clearly broken, and there's swelling around her skull that suggests a concussion, but her pupils are reactive and her heartbeat is strong.
"Can you save her?" Jake asks quietly from where he's positioned himself between me and his crew, giving me space to work while staying close enough to help if needed.
"I think so. But she needs surgery for the leg, and I'll want to monitor her for brain swelling. She'll need to stay at my clinic for at least a week."
"Whatever you need."
The simple certainty in his voice makes me look up. He's watching me work with an expression of complete focus, ready to help however I ask. No questions about cost or complications, just absolute support for doing what's right.
When did I last meet a man who understood that some things matter more than convenience?
"Help me get her onto the stretcher," I say, pushing aside the inappropriate thought. "We need to immobilize her leg before we move her."
Jake follows my instructions perfectly, his hands gentle despite their size as we carefully transfer the cub to my portable stretcher.
This is bad. I came to Silver Ridge to focus on building my practice and healing from Sebastian's betrayal. I do not need to develop feelings for the first attractive man I meet, especially one whose job involves cutting down the forest I'm trying to protect.
"I'll follow you back to town," Jake says as we secure the stretcher in my truck. "Make sure you get there safely."
"That's not necessary."
"It is to me."
Again, that simple certainty that brooks no argument. Despite my determination to stay independent, there's something deeply appealing about a man who takes responsibility for others' wellbeing without being asked.
The drive back to my clinic passes in a blur of careful speed and constant monitoring of my patient. In my rearview mirror, I can see Jake's truck maintaining a steady distance behind me, a reassuring presence that makes the mountain roads feel less lonely.
At the clinic, he helps me carry the cub inside without being asked, then stands quietly in the corner while I prep for surgery. Most men would either hover anxiously or disappear entirely. Jake simply makes himself available while staying out of my way.
"This could take several hours," I tell him as I scrub in. "You don't need to wait."
"I'll wait."
"Jake—"
"She got hurt on my worksite, under my watch. I'm not leaving until I know she's okay."
The protective edge in his voice does things to my insides that I definitely don't have time to analyze. I duck into the surgery suite, grateful for the distraction of complex medical procedures.
Two hours later, I emerge to find Jake exactly where I left him, reading a veterinary journal with apparent interest. He looks up the moment I appear, those warm brown eyes searching my face for news.
"She's going to be fine," I announce, exhaustion and relief making me smile. "Clean break, easy to set. No signs of serious brain trauma. She'll need rest and monitoring, but she should make a full recovery. I’ll need to make some calls to the authorities to make sure we get her set up with an animal rescue service."
The smile that spreads across his face is like sunrise breaking over the mountains. "Thank you. Seriously, Norma, thank you. The crew was pretty shaken up about this."
"All in a day's work." But his gratitude warms me more than it should. "Though I will need to contact wildlife services about placement. She can't be released back to the wild without learning survival skills from other bears."
"Whatever she needs. And whatever the bill comes to, send it to Kirkwood Timber. This was our responsibility."
I open my mouth to protest—veterinary bills can be substantial, and I don't want to take advantage—but something in his expression stops me. This matters to him, taking care of the consequences of his crew's work.
"I'll draw up an estimate," I say instead.
"Fair enough." He heads for the door, then pauses. "You did incredible work today. That cub's lucky you were available."
"Just doing my job."
"Maybe. But not everyone would have dropped everything to help an injured wild animal. Silver Ridge is lucky to have you."
