Chaska bit the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from laughing, his gaze meeting Hawke’s and Moretti’s, who were also fighting not to laugh.
“I don’t owe you anything, right?” There was a stiff, cocky tone to the guy’s voice now, humiliation apparently having morphed into resentment. “I’m free to go?”
Ahearn stepped out of his harness. “We don’t charge for rescues, but this was a clear reminder to climb within your ability.”
Without a word, the guy turned and stomped off down the trail.
“You’re welcome,” Hawke muttered, shaking his head.
Sasha laughed. “What a fragile ego.”
“Okay, okay.” Ahearn shouldered a coil of rope. “Leave the poor guy alone. Let’s stow the gear and head home.”
Chaska knew right then that they were going to hear from Megs about this. As the Team’s director, she didn’t tolerate unprofessional behavior from members.
They worked together to get the ropes, harnesses, and other gear back onto Rescue One, the truck’s rooftop lights turning nighttime into day. Bats flitted overhead, drawn in by the insects who were attracted to the light.
“How’s Naomi?” Moretti asked.
Chaska tried to ignore the way his pulse skipped at the sound of her name. “She seems to be doing well. Win has spent more time with her than I have.”
Moretti started folding ropes into a large rope bag. They would be washed, dried, and inspected inch-by-inch before being used again. “Ellie told me you and Winona invited her to stay with you while she recovers.”
Chaska shoved his harness in a nylon stuff sack with the others. “She was going to stay in a hotel, but Winona wouldn’t have it.”
Hawke tossed his harness to Chaska. “Your sister has a big heart.”
That was the truth.
“Doesn’t she have friends or family to help her out?” Nicole asked.
Chaska didn’t want to share something he’d been told in private, but he figured this was public knowledge by now. “I guess not.”
“That’s not right.” Sasha pulled her rack of gear over her head, set it down on the vehicle’s tailgate, carabiners and cams clinking. “Everyone should have someone.”
Hawke gave a snort. “What a nice world that would be.”
Moretti zipped the rope bag, set it inside the vehicle. “Ellie thought maybe you could talk to her and see how she felt about Joe holding a fundraiser for her at Knockers. You know Joe would do it.”
Knockers was Scarlet Springs’ one and only brewpub and the hub of the town’s social activity. Its menu was good, but its indoor climbing wall was even better. Named after the legendary Tommyknockers, spirits that lived in the abandoned mines above town, it was owned by Joe Moffat—or Caribou Joe, as locals called him. Joe went above and beyond to give back to his community.
“That’s a great idea.” Taylor slipped off his climbing shoes and stepped into a pair of Tevas. “The state will probably pick up most of her medical expenses, but she’s going to have to get her vehicle repaired, too, and find some way to get both herself and her car home again.”
Itwasa good idea, but the decision wasn’t theirs or even Joe’s to make. “I’ll talk to her and see how she feels about it.”
Naomi ran for her life, her heart slamming in her chest. Shrubs and tree branches grabbed at her, threatening to trip her, slowing her down, Arlie’s voice chasing her through the darkness.
“Get back here, you little bitch! I think she broke my nose.”
A gunshot rang out, pain slicing through her shoulder.
She’d been shot!
And then she was falling.
Naomi sat bolt upright, chased from sleep by terror. She tore off the covers, shot to her feet—and collapsed onto the floor with a cry as her weight hit her broken leg, fear and pain bringing tears to her eyes. “Shit!”
How could she have forgotten?