He sucks in a few breaths and lets them out. I can tell straight away that he’s been in serious pain before. He knows how to breathe through it and how to stay calm.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Holt. Holt Hanover.”
“Holt. Damn, I’m glad you were here. The bees… I can’t believe how stupid I was.”
“You from around here?” I ask, taking in his brand-new hiking boots.
“No, doctor ordered me some R&R, and I came here from LA, and… fuck, this hurts,” he hisses.
I see he’s in pain, and hell, he needs help. Badly. “Don’t talk — we’ll get you taken care of. Thickwood may be in the middle of nowhere, but we know how to take care of people.”
He’s getting paler, and his hands are trembling, but he’s fighting through it like no one I’ve ever seen. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t hopped up on adrenaline, waiting for the next task.
“I wouldn’t have been able to move from here,” he says, his voice thin. “Which means you just saved my life.”
I shake my head. “I did what anyone would have done.”
“How can I pay you back?”
“You don’t have to do anything,” I say. “I’m gonna stay with you until the chopper gets here, and you’re going to be fine, you hear?”
He gives me a tight smile. “Tell me why you live here. Give me something else to think about.”
I wish the helicopter was here already, but I know it’s going to take a bit of time. So I open my mouth and try to explain why I love this big old mountain and this tiny ass town.
“We got Lake Aspyn, best spot for watching fireworks. McKenzie’s Diner, which makes a mean cup of joe. Ridge Elementary—”
He cuts me off. “You got kids?”
I shake my head. “No kids. Never married. But I own a supply shop in town, and I keep busy.” I look him over, and I see his pain etched on his face. I feel bad for the city slicker.
“My daughter would love it here.” He presses his fist to his mouth, trying to block out the ache.
“You have a daughter?”
“Yeah, she’s all grown up — time passed too fast. Being here, in Thickwood, it seems to slow. If I could do it all over again, it’s where I would have raised her.”
“Too late for a second chance?” I ask. This man’s getting nostalgic. Here he is, near death and looking back at his life.
“Listen, Holt. In my world, we try not to owe people things. So, it would actually be better for both of us if you just let me pay you back and we can be done with it.”
I frown. “It’s not a big deal…” But he waves my words away with one hand, wincing in pain.
“Stop,” he wheezes. In the distance, to my great relief, I hear the rhythmic sputtering of an old helicopter. “What do you need? Money?”
“No, no,” I say. “It’s—”
“Property? A job?”
“No, I have all that. I have everything I need. I’m serious.”
“Everyone’s missing something,” he says.
“I have everything I want and everything I need. I mean, except a wife.” I chuckle, but he doesn’t laugh with me.
Tough crowd.
“A wife,” he whispers. Then, louder, “I can get you a wife.”
“A… what?”
I go quiet, mostly just stunned by the offer. Where’s this dude gonna find me a damn wife? Who the hell is he? “You can get me a what?” I say, sure I misheard.
“A wife,” he says, gritting his teeth at the pain as the helicopter gets closer. “A beautiful wife. The woman of your dreams.”
The ladder is descending from the helicopter, and my radio is chattering. Confused, and a little amused by the situation now that it’s resolved, I help the poor guy up and into the helicopter, and then start the climb back up the hill. Jimbo beats his tail on the dusty ground when I make it up, and I pat him on the head.
“You’ll never believe what just happened,” I say to him, and we carry on down the trail.
Two
Hattie
I remember when I was a kid, I used to look out of my high bedroom window at the streets of LA below and I would imagine I was a princess locked away in a tower. Maybe someday, someone would come along and rescue me, I would think, but no one ever did.
Nowadays, my hair is cut shorter (because I’ve accepted that I’m never going to lower it down for someone to climb up) and I’m a little older and wiser. I’ve stopped romanticizing the fact that my father is the worst man on earth. Stopped making it seem like fiction to make myself feel better. He’s not a dragon, or an evil sorcerer. He’s just a criminal. And I’m not a princess — I’m just a crime boss’s daughter.