A Matter of Trust(69)

Brette took the washcloth off her face and stared at Jess as she touched her stomach, moving down from the center to her lower right abdomen. “Does this—”

“Ow! Stop!” Brette grabbed her hand away.

“It could be her appendix,” Jess said to Ty as she took off her gloves. “Maybe you should bring her into Kalispell Regional to get an ultrasound.” She reached for the garbage can. “I’ll clean this up.”

When Jess stood up, she gave Brette such a look of compassion, all her accusations screeched to a halt.

No. She couldn’t be Selene Taggert. Selene was a high-brow Wharton grad who’d lived the life of a fashionista. A pampered rich-and-famous who wouldn’t think of cleaning up vomit, unless maybe it had come from a night of partying. No—even then she would have summoned her hired help.

Someone like Brette’s mother.

Jess looked at Ty. “I’ll call you if we hear anything from Gage.”

Ty nodded.

And then, suddenly, and without asking, he scooped Brette into his arms.

His amazingly strong arms, because she was no lightweight.

“No—wait. Ty. I can’t go to the hospital.”

“Yes, you can. I’ll drive you—”

“No!” She wanted to push against him and wiggle out of his embrace, but he was so solid, so strong, she couldn’t help but sink against him. “I can’t—I don’t have insurance.”

A blink, and something shifted in his eyes. And she wanted to look away, a sort of shame creeping through her.

“I can’t afford it. It’s cheaper to pay the penalty.”

“It’s okay, Brette. We’ll figure out something—”

“No, I can’t! I don’t want to be a charity case. Please.”

“Shh. You’re shaking, you have a fever, and even though I’m not a doctor, I can see you’re in bad shape.”

She cringed.

“It’ll be okay,” he said quietly and wore such a look of worry on his face that she looked away before he could see the tears glaze her eyes. Then pain wrapped around her body like tentacles and she could barely speak, let alone protest as Pete wrapped a blanket around her and Ty carried her out to his truck and settled her inside. He closed her door and went around to the driver’s side.

Apparently, she’d let her sickness separate her from her common sense. And her flimsy checkbook. She leaned her head against the cool window. Saw Jess come out, stand on the porch, also wearing an expression of worry.

“Don’t worry, Brette, everything is going to be fine,” Ty said as he pulled out.

And despite her better sense, she wanted to believe him.



Time was of the essence, and Gage saw it fading the longer it took Jess and Pete to stabilize Bradley’s leg, move him onto the stretcher, and pack him up for delivery to the PEAK chopper hovering outside.

Four hours—Gage checked his watch again, just to confirm—but yeah, it had taken nearly four hours from the time he’d called HQ, waited for Kacey to arrive and the EMTs to descend and then assess Bradley’s condition. They’d even called his dad over in Whitefish for a heads-up and to ask if they should relocate the knee on scene.

In the end, they packed it with an inflatable splint, did the same for his ankle, administered an IV of fluids, then tucked him into a litter.

Gage helped the team carry Bradley out to the snowfield and attach the litter to the suspended lines. Jess attached her harness to another line, and Pete radioed up to Kacey to start the lift. Jess rode it up, and while she got Bradley settled, Pete pulled Gage aside, back into the cave, out of the wind. Ella was packing up the tent, and when Pete pitched his voice low, Gage suspected trouble.

“Ella’s friend Brette collapsed just before we got your call. Ty took her to the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“We don’t know. Could be appendicitis. Maybe just stress . . .” He glanced at Ella. “We could make room in the chopper for her.”

Gage glanced at Ella, who’d said little since Bradley’s revelation of Oliver’s fall. Her lips pressed together in a tight line of worry.

He should send her back with Pete. It was the logical, safe thing to do. With the day on the backside of lunch, he had maybe two, possibly three hours of daylight left. He’d have to ski fast to catch Ollie.

Gage thought the slide would have rattled her, slowed her down, or turned her timid. Instead, she seemed to bloom, staying on his tread, hot on his neck as he skied down.

She had even nearly overtaken him as they’d barreled down the flank of the cave wall.

“How’s she doing?” Pete asked, as if reading his thoughts.