MAYA: I'm fine!!! Both vehicles are fine!!!
MAYA: Also there is a very tall, very handsome, wildlife vet here handling the elk and I need everyone to remain calm.
EMILY: PIVOT
AMBER: How tall
MAYA: I said remain CALM.
CHLOE: She didn't say not tall though.
HOLLY: Wait is it Anthony?
MAYA: Who is Anthony?
HOLLY: MAYA OH MY GOD YOU MET ANTHONY!
It takes closer to thirty-five minutes, not a few, and I genuinely don't mind.
I take approximately forty photos. Some are for my travel blog. The timing of almost hitting an already injured baby elk is perfect, because the late afternoon has given me the most gorgeous gold light as I snap photos of the mountains. I say a quick thank you to fate for the general improbable majesty of being somewhere that looks this ridiculous in real life. Photographers would charge an arm and a leg for this backdropat this time of day. Golden hour as it’s called doesn’t disappoint. Golden hour in front of the majestic Rocky Mountains? Forget about it.
Not all of the photos I am snapping are really for the blog. They are of the baby elk, at least I tell myself that, and not the handsome man helping it. Even if maybe, he is in the photos, too.
About two minutes after we collided, a young woman materializes from his truck. I assume she is his assistant or coworker, based on the way they move around each other with the efficiency of people who have done these types of things many times. She gives me a look when she passes. A very specific look.
The look of someone who has seen this exact deer-in-headlights expression before and finds it entertaining.
"Stable fracture," Anthony says, finally, making his way back toward me while his assistant preps the transport cage. "He'll need a few weeks, but he'll be fine."
"Oh thank god." I exhale what feels like three hours of tension, I was really worried about the little dude. "I'm really sorry about the bumper situation."
"Stop apologizing,” he orders in a stern tone. “It’s minor cosmetic damage, barely a scratch." He pulls the heavy gloves off and I notice his hands. His very large, capable-looking hands. Wonder if he’s ever spanked anyone with those.
What the actual fuck, Maya.
"You stopped for an animal in the road. I was following too close. The fault's mine if anything,” he continues.
"You were following too close because there was an injured elk in the road you were trying to get to."
"Still my responsibility. In most situations the car that hits from behind is at fault" He looks at me steadily. Something has shifted in his expression; he was focused on the elk before andnow he's just present. Now, he’s totally focused on me. "You're sure you're all right?"
"I'm sure." And I am, mostly. The adrenaline is settling into something that feels a lot like hyperawareness of the fact that he's about six feet away and his voice does something unreasonable to the back of my neck. "I'm Maya. Maya Daniels. Apparently I'm the person who creates your traffic problems."
Something moves through his face. Not quite a smile. "Anthony Rossi." He offers his hand and I shake it, and I'm very aware of the size difference and the steadiness of his grip. "You're heading up to the Evergreen Resort?"
"How did you —"
"Justin mentioned his fiancee's friend was coming in today. It’s a small mountain."
Holly. Has Holly been planning for us to meet? Could she be playing matchmaker? Or was it a simple mention in passing that her friend was coming?
"Are you —" I look at his truck and the permanent cage installed in the back. The setup. "Are you the resort's vet?"
"Contracted. They have a petting zoo, reindeer, and therapy animals. Justin and I go way back."
Of course they do. Of course this is happening right now.
"So we're going to the same place," I say.
