“You do realize you probably wouldn’t have the opportunity to join the police force here. At least, not in the same capacity as in Chicago.”
“That’s fine. I want to be a paramedic first anyway. I only went through police training so I could specialize as a tactical paramedic, and it was required of me. Of course, if becoming the town sheriff or anything comes with a horse and a cowboy hat...”
“Nope. He drives a mountain-worthy SUV and, as far as I know, the only hat I’ve ever seen him in is a bright orange stocking cap he wears when he’s out in the woods.”
“Well, I don’t look good in orange, so I may have to find some other kind of work here to help me support myself. Maybe something part-time in your emergency department. If there’s an opening.”
“Well, like I already said, I do have some concerns. I’ll be honest about that. But if you can keep your over-exuberance under control, you’re in. The term is eight weeks for the initial part of the training, at least forty hours a week, with continuing education follow-ups until you’re certified. You’ll be on call for any and all emergencies during your training. The assignments will be my choice, not yours. So, do you want this?”
“I let my apartment go back in Chicago, sold my furniture to get me out here and get me set up so, yes, I want this. Now, can my dog get some training on this course along with me?”
“You have a dog?”
“Big one, with a good tracking sense. Smart. Trains easily. I’ve always thought she’d be great in the field.”
Jack dropped his head back against the chair and let out a long sigh. “You’re going to insist on the dog, aren’t you?”
“Well, maybe not insist so much as try to persuade. There can be advantages.”
He stared straight at her. “You never quit, do you?”
She smiled, feeling as happy about this new opportunity as she’d ever felt about anything. “Never.”
Jack’s response was to groan. Simply groan, then shut his eyes.
CARRIE HANDED A dog treat to Bella, her large, black Labrador-mutt mix, and climbed into the pickup truck next to her, nudging Bella back over to the passenger’s side. “We’re in,” she said to her companion. Bella and Carrie had been together for a year now, resulting from an unintentional meeting. Bella had gotten caught up in some gunfire—an innocent passerby—and had taken a bullet to her hindquarter. Nothing serious—just a flesh wound. But she’d needed patching, and Carrie happened to be the one on the scene who could do that. Only problem was, after she’d dropped Bella off at the closest veterinarian’s office for better care, the bill had come to her since Bella was a stray. So, because she’d paid for the dog’s care, she’d kept the dog. Best thing she’d ever done. “He seems nice enough. Not very personable, but we’re not here to make friends, are we?” she asked her friend, as she eased her truck forward and started off down Marrell’s main street toward the one-room garage apartment she was renting.
By the time she reached her temporary home. Carrie was more than ready to go inside, kick back and spend the evening reading a medical journal. Maybe open a can of soup and heat it up over a single burner hot plate and snuggle in. She hadn’t expected to live in the lap of luxury, coming to Montana, but she’d hoped for something better than this. One room, a foldout sofa that converted to a bed, a tiny kitchen table for two with a wobbly leg, a chair. But it was warm, and given that it was almost October, and she’d already been caught up in light snow flurries, that warmth was a bonus. That, plus the fact that there was a little stretch of open land across the road where she could walk Bella without having to go too far.
“There’s no place to go,” she said, adjusting her cell phone to speaker so she could get comfortable talking to her former roomie, Hannah Clarkson. Hannah was a nurse practitioner who managed a small satellite clinic for one of Chicago’s leading hospitals. “I knew I’d be getting into some pretty remote areas, but I didn’t expect it to be quite so...isolated.”
“Have you made any friends?” Hannah asked.
“I don’t want to make any friends. I’m here to work hard, get through the program and figure out what’s next. The doctor in charge is already offering me a job here—well, almost—so who knows. If things work out...”
“Is he sexy?”
Leave it to Hannah to cut to the bottom line. “To you, maybe. He’s tall, well built. Rugged. But I’m not looking for sexy.” Dredging up a quick mental recall of Dr. Jack Hanson, she decided he was, indeed, sexy. Nice muscles. Strong. She especially liked the three-day growth of stubble on his face. His longish dark brown hair. His charcoal eyes. OK, maybe she’d been too long without a man in her life since just picturing him gave her a little tingle. But having a man, or not having one, had never been her focus. And she wasn’t about to make that any kind of a focus now.
“You’re not looking, period. Remember that firefighter...what was his name?”
“Um...I don’t remember.” Actually, she did. And he’d been a hunk and a half. And caught up in one of those complicated situations halfway between married and divorced. In her life, there was never room for anything complicated so she’d moved on. But that was going on to two years ago now, and she’d never had a date since. Even then, their dates hadn’t really been dates. More like chance encounters. A few minutes here, a few there. Nothing special.
“Liar,” her friend accused. “He was great.”
“He was thinking about going back to his wife.”
“OK, maybe he was a bad choice. But how will you ever know a good choice if you don’t allow yourself to look?”
“I’ll look. Just not right now.”
“Well, all I’m saying is keep your options open. You owe yourself a little fun. And a future outside your job.”
A future outside her job? The words rattled around in her brain long after she’d quit talking to Hannah. And, they scared her, because she was good at her job. Felt safe in it. But outside it...what had she ever had that was worth anything? Had there ever been anything in life that had made her feel safe? No, there hadn’t.
Well, Hannah may have been right about some things, but changing herself was easier said than done. Her life had always been about survival, and when you lived only to survive, everything else took a back seat. Quite honestly, she didn’t know any other way to live. Mentally and emotionally—sure, there was more to it, and she envied the people she could see having that kind of life. But for Carrie survival mode always took over. In and out of foster homes from the age of five until she was sixteen. Then bumped out to the street, living on her own, by her wits. Eating out of trash bins, avoiding the bad people, the bad influences. Always wanting more. Always knowing that if she could find the way, she could have it. Always fighting to get ahead and never giving up. That’s who she was because she didn’t know how to be anything else.
Glumly, Carrie set aside her soup and put Bella on her lead, then walked over to the field and simply stood there as Bella sniffed around, then pulled her in different directions, investigating all her options. For her dog, it was an easy thing. Find it then follow it. But for her, that had always hurt. Too many times over her growing-up years she’d thought she’d found it, only to be turned away. She’d had to become hard to survive. She’d had to become