Other Sister

"Why here?" asked Ken Hayward, the chief of Troublesome Gulch Paramedics. He flipped through Brody Austin's job application and rÉsumÉ, then peered at him over the top of his halfperch reading glasses. "That's the million-dollar question, son. If we were FDNY, Chicago--even Denver--it'd be a no-brainer, but--" He spread his arms to indicate the mishmash decor, circa 1980, that comprised their headquarters. Perspiration gathered beneath Brody's collar, despite every vow he'd made to keep his cool. He'd figured the topic would come up eventually. Of course. But he still felt unprepared to address it, even after all this time, which had to say something negative about his character. "Well..." He cleared his throat--the standard stall tactic. Luckily the grizzled old medic went on, affording Brody time to concoct some sort of explanation that didn't make him seem as if he were hedging, which he was, or worse--that he'd completely lost his mind. And the jury was still out on that issue. "Not that we won't be thrilled to welcome you." Hayward held up a hand. "Your training is extensive, and I'm even more impressed by your experience. Large agencies, Flight for Life, the U.S. Army for cripe's sake." "Thank you." "How's your skiing?" Hayward asked, out of the blue. Brody blinked, thrown by the seemingly unrelated question. "Ah...a little rusty, I guess. Used to be good." Hayward indicated the mountain range looming outside his office window. "We work with Alpine Search and Rescue as part of our duties. They're always abysmally short on trained volunteers. So you'll pull some tours as ski patrol. But don't worry--it's like riding a bike. Few weeks on the slopes, and you'll be fine." Brody swallowed and leaned slightly forward. "Does that mean I have the job?" Hayward's chair creaked as he tipped back and braced his hands behind his head. "Hell, I'm not going to beat around the bush. You want it, it's yours. Most of our applicants are fresh out of EMT-Basic and don't know PVC from PMS." Brody chuckled. "We welcome someone with your experience. I guess I'm just curious what would make a young guy like you want to move way out to the north end of Timbuk-nowhere." A small measure of relief trickled through Brody knowing he tentatively had the job offer, but he still had to tackle the unanswerable question. Everything could change if Hayward knew the whole truth. Brody nodded. "The thing is..." Silence. Whatwasthe thing, dammit? Any idiot knows you can't start out a statement with that phrase when you have no clue about thething.Against his will, his jaw clenched, and so did his fists. He was blowing this. And he couldn't. He had no explanation for why, but he just...couldn't. "Frankly, our salaries don't even come close to those in the city," Hayward prompted, inordinately patient. Brody acknowledged by lifting his chin. "I'm aware of the pay scale. Money isn't why I do this job, Chief. It never has been." "That's admirable, and I share your feelings." Hayward raised one bushy eyebrow. "But, just to play devil's advocate...it's expensive living in a Colorado ski town." He gave a rueful half smile. "Even a redheaded stepchild ski town like Troublesome Gulch. We're not Aspen or Telluride, by any means. Hell, we're not even Keystone, but the going's still rougher than you'd imagine. You independently wealthy?" "Not that. Iwish.My needs are simple." He didn't bother mentioning the blood money settlement he'd received from the state all those years ago, or the fact that he hadn't been able to touch a dime of it. Consequently, it had grown over the past ten years, and the interest alone provided a cushion of security that allowed him to work for a smaller salary than he might otherwise have to. Hayward chuckled and glanced towaSandoval, Lynda is the author of 'Other Sister ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373248513 and ISBN 0373248512.