Series: Kristen Proby Crossover Collection
Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Claire scoffs in my ear.
“What was that for?”
“Fallon McCarthy, you don’t make friends. You make acquaintances. And even then, getting to know you isn’t easy.”
“I know,” I murmur. That’s the way it’s always been, my whole life. I’m an introvert. I enjoy my own company more than I like being with others. “People exhaust me.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re better in a small town,” she says. “Fewer people.”
“That’s definitely a plus,” I agree. “What are you doing today?”
“I’m going in to work for a bit.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Hey, you worked today.”
“For an hour. I don’t have any other classes today.”
“Well, I have some accounts to work on. What are you going to do with the rest of your day?”
“I think I’ll go on a short hike,” I reply. “It’s a beautiful day today.”
“Like, on the treadmill?” she asks. “A simulated hike?”
“No, city girl, a real hike. In the woods. On a path.”
“Do you, like, have hiking boots?”
I smile and tip back in my chair, enjoying my friend. “I have hiking shoes. They’re not boots.”
“Huh. Well, whatever floats your boat, my friend. Have a good day.”
“You, too.”
I hang up, go inside to rinse my mug, and put on the hiking shoes that will need to be replaced soon, and drive across town to my favorite hiking trail.
One of the things I like best about Cunningham Falls is all of the outdoor activities here. There are miles and miles of hiking trails that the city keeps groomed and safe for hikers. Last week when I came to walk on this particular trail, it was closed due to mountain lion activity.
That gave me pause.
But I carry bear spray, and the only animal I’ve ever seen on the trail is a deer.
Halfway up to the lookout point, I get a text.
Nina: Breakfast tomorrow? 9:00 at Ed’s?
I grin and type a quick reply.
Me: Sure, see you then.
Claire’s right, I don’t make friends easily. I wouldn’t even consider Claire my best friend. She’s a close friend. But the sad thing is, she and Penny are probably the best friends I have, and even they don’t know everything about me.
I don’t even have a bunch of baggage in my past that would cause my lack of trust in others. No one has betrayed me. Or bullied me.
It’s just my nature to hold back. To be the observer and soak everything in.
And because of that, I am sensitive to moods and emotions, and that’s exhausting.
So, instead, I’ve made a habit of being a loner. It suits me fine.
But having breakfast with a new friend sounds fun, too. Maybe I’m just evolving as a person. I’m only thirty-two. A person can change.
I come around a corner and shift to the side of the trail so a runner can zoom past me. He nods in thanks and keeps going.
Nice ass, I think to myself and grin.
I set off again, about to head over the ridge to the overlook. It’s a great place to sit and breathe, to watch the lake and the boats floating on it, not to mention the gorgeous Whitetail Mountain above it.
But a rustling in the bushes catches my attention. I reach for my bear spray, just in case, but then pause and squint, trying to see what’s going on.
“It’s a bird,” I mutter, stepping closer. A white head pops up, and I gasp. “A bald eagle. Hi there, sweetie. Are you hurt?”
One wing flaps, but the other doesn’t move at all.
The poor thing’s hurt.
“Crap, I don’t know what to do about this. I’m not ready for this.”
I look up and down the trail, but there’s no one close by. The runner is long gone.
So, I pull out my phone from my pocket and call Penny. She grew up here, she’ll know what to do.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t pick up, so in my panic, I call Claire.
“Did you get eaten by a tiger?” she asks.
“There are no tigers in North America, Claire. But I did find an injured eagle. I don’t know what to do?”
“Why did you call me?” she asks.
“Because I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.”
“Call animal control?”
I frown, watching as the poor thing struggles. “What are they going to do? Fine it?”
“I live in Chicago, Fallon. I don’t know. Call 911. Call the sheriff. Call anyone but me.”
“Thanks a lot.” I hang up and take a deep breath. “Who do I call for you?”
A veterinarian!
I Google vet offices in Cunningham Falls and call the first one on the list.
“I’m on the Bear Mountain trail, just outside of town, and I found an injured eagle. What do I do?”
“Oh, you’ll want to call Spread Your Wings,” the receptionist says. “They’ll come help you.”
“Thanks.” I hang up, not at all sure of what Spread Your Wings is, but a phone number comes up when I Google it, so I call.