Page 5 of Emergency with the Mountain Man
"That looked promising until the end," Maple says, appearing at my elbow. "What happened?"
"She's not interested."
"She looked interested to me. Scared, maybe, but definitely interested."
"Scared of what?"
"You tell me. But Jake, sometimes the best things are worth being patient for. Don't give up after one conversation."
I watch Norma's truck disappear around the corner, already planning how I might run into her again. Maple's right—there was interest there, beneath the wariness. Something made Norma McKenzie cautious about getting involved with anyone, but that doesn't mean she's completely closed off to the possibility.
I've waited a long time to meet a woman who makes my heart race and my future seem suddenly full of possibilities. I can wait a little longer to convince her I'm worth the risk.
three
Norma
I'vebeeninSilverRidge for a month now, and I still get lost on the way to the grocery store. But somehow, I always seem to find my way to places where Jake Webster might be.
It's completely unintentional. At least, that's what I tell myself when I take the long way to house calls that happens to pass the Kirkwood Timber office. Or when I choose the hiking trail that Juniper mentioned is popular with the logging crews during their lunch breaks.
I'm not stalking him. I'm just geographically challenged.
This morning's "accident" involves a genuine emergency call to a farm outside town, where a horse has tangled with barbed wire. The injury isn't life-threatening, but it requires careful cleaning and suturing that takes me most of the morning.
I'm loading my equipment back into the truck when I hear the familiar rumble of diesel engines. A convoy of logging trucks rolls past on the main road, heading back toward town after what looks like a successful day's work.
The lead truck slows as it passes the farm entrance, and my heart skips when I recognize Jake behind the wheel. He pulls over, engine idling, and climbs out with that easy confidence that never fails to make my pulse race.
"Everything okay?" he calls, approaching with concern clear in his voice. "Saw your truck and wanted to make sure you didn't need help."
He's dusty from a day's work, his flannel shirt rolled up to reveal muscled forearms, and there are pine needles in his dark hair. He looks like every fantasy I've ever had about rugged mountain men, which is exactly why I should get in my truck and drive away.
Instead, I find myself smiling. "Just finished treating a horse who had an argument with a fence. The fence won."
"Ouch. Bad injury?"
"Looked worse than it was. Horses are drama queens about minor wounds. She'll be fine in a few days."
Jake's answering smile does dangerous things to my insides. "Sounds like you're getting the hang of rural veterinary medicine. Different from city practice?"
"Completely different. In Calgary, most of my work was wildlife rehabilitation and research. Here, I'm treating everything from hamsters to horses, with the occasional bear cub thrown in."
He chuckles."What made you switch?"
The loaded question hangs in the air between us. I could give him the sanitized version—I wanted a change of pace, drawn to small-town life, and the opportunity to build my own practice. All true, but not the whole truth.
"I needed a fresh start," I say finally.
Jake nods, understanding more than I've said. "Sometimes a fresh start is exactly what we need to figure out who we really are."
"Is that what happened when you moved here?"
"In a way. I was becoming someone I didn't like in Vancouver. Cynical, burnt out, going through the motions without any real purpose. Moving to Silver Ridge reminded me why I became a forester in the first place."
There's something in his voice, a depth of feeling that makes me want to know more about his story. About what drove him to make such a dramatic life change, about what he found here that he couldn't find in the city.
"The mountains help," I say quietly. "There's something about being surrounded by all this wilderness that puts things in perspective."
