Page 117 of Broken on the Mountain
"The ice sculpture?!" I sputter into my prosecco. "That thing cost three hundred dollars!"
"Well… now it's melting faster thanks to their body heat." He grins. "Romance is alive and well in Stone River."
Chase smacks my ass and winks at me, and I'm about to respond when a commotion near the auction table catches my attention. A woman in her sixties is swaying on her feet, one hand pressed to her forehead.
Training kicks in before thought does.
"Chase."
But he's already there.
I reach her just as her knees buckle, and Chase catches her smoothly, lowering her into a nearby chair while I kneel beside her.
"Hi there," I say, my voice calm and professional. "I'm Piper. Can you tell me your name?"
"Julie," she manages, her face pale. "I just... got a little dizzy."
"Okay, Julie. Have you had anything to eat tonight?"
"I... no, I came straight from the airport. Wanted to make the auction."
Chase is flagging down a server, who appears with water and a plate of cheese and crackers like magic. I check Julie's pulse. It's steady, but a little fast. Chase crouches beside me, his presence solid and reassuring.
"Pulse is good," I murmur to him. "Probably just low blood sugar."
"Agreed." He turns to Julie with that easy smile that always puts everyone at ease. "Let's get some food in you, yeah? And water. Lots of water."
We work in perfect sync. Me monitoring her vitals while Chase keeps her talking and distracted, making jokes about Travis's prosciutto proposal until she's laughing weakly.
By the time she's nibbling crackers and her color's returning, I'm confident she'll be fine.
"You two are quite the team," she says, looking between us with renewed sparkle in her eyes. "Are you both medical professionals?"
"She is," Chase says, nodding at me with unmistakable pride. "Well, was. Ex-nurse. I just play rescue hero for fun."
"He's a mountain rescue specialist," I correct, squeezing his hand. "He's being modest."
Julie smiles. "Well, thank you both. I feel much better."
"Stay seated for a few more minutes," I instruct. "And keep drinking that water."
Chase and I stand, and that's when I turn around and see the last person I ever expected to see.
My mother.
She's standing near the silent auction table, perfectly coiffed in a dove-gray cashmere suit that totally cost more than the ice sculpture. Her expression is unreadable, but she's watching us with an intensity that makes my stomach clench.
"Shit," I breathe.
Chase follows my gaze and stiffens. "Is that—"
"Yep."
"Do you want me to—"
"No." I squeeze his hand. "Stay with me?"
"Always."
