"You must be Sheila," the woman I'm falling for says with a grin.
"Oh, she's not only gorgeous but smart as well. Nice catch, Flint," Sheila says. She wraps her arm around Petula's shoulders and walks her around, introducing her to everyone.
Christmas brunch is, as it always is, full of fantastic food and laughter. At one point, Hope runs past us, slipping on a piece of dropped food, and slams into the floor. Her eight-year-old facecrumbles as she bursts into tears. Maddox rushes over, checking on her, and Petula gets up from her chair, rushing over as well.
"What hurts, sweetie?" She asks the crying child.
"My arm," Hope wails through tears.
"Is it okay if I try something?" Petula asks Maddox as Lita waddles over.
"Sure. Are you a doctor?" he asks.
"No. But I'm a witch who practices a little bit of healing magic. Nothing major, but I can take most of the pain away, I think."
"Go for it," Lita says as soon as she reaches them.
I watch the woman I'm falling for close her eyes and place her hands near Hope's injured arm. She mutters an incantation I can't quite make out, and Hope's tears almost instantly stop as she stares wide-eyed at Petula, her face breaking out into a wide grin. The voluptuous witch blinks her eyes open, looking at Hope.
"Is that any better?" she asks.
"It's almost a hundred percent better. Wow," the girl breathes out.
Standing, Petula says, "It still will probably swell, but the pain should be relieved for at least a couple of hours. I would give her some pain medicine within an hour just so she's prepared. And I didn't sense anything broken either."
"Thank you so much," Maddox says as he helps Hope stand.
Petula walks over to me, and I pull her in, pressing my lips against hers.
"You seriously are an incredible woman," I say as she beams up at me.
The late January wind whips through my mop of hair as I head out to a forty-foot Douglas fir hung up in another tree. We've had a lot of wet weather the last two weeks, and today is one of the first dry days we've had to work. The ground is still damp under my boots.
As I survey the tree, assessing how to drop it, I hear a loud crack above me. The next thing I know, a dead branch lands right on my lower left leg. I fall, the pain consuming me, and immediately yell out.
Culver and Aldo come running over, cursing as they find me.
"Shit. The bone broke through your pants," Culver says.
"Fuck! Goddamn!" I yell through gritted teeth.
Aldo applies pressure as Deegan and the others come to help while Culver calls 911. My crew keeps talking to me as we wait for the helicopter, which arrives as the light begins to fade. The medics carefully get me loaded up after assessing the situation, with Culver climbing in as well.
"We're headed to Corvid Valley Medical Center," they tell us.
The ER is a whirlwind as they stabilize me, cleaning the wound and pumping me full of antibiotics and pain medication. I feel loopy and confused, only half understanding what they're telling Culver.
The next thing I know, I'm being wheeled into an ambulance with Culver pulling himself in behind me.
"What's going on, man?" I say thickly.
"We're headed to Fresno for surgery."
"Oh, man. You don't need to come," I say, my mouth feeling like it's full of cotton.
"Fuck that, Flint. Of course I'm coming," Culver says as the paramedic slams the door shut.
I blink my eyes open, the bright room blurry, and Culver is the first person I make out.
