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“We’ll worry about that in a few minutes. Still good?”
He was dizzy and a little nauseated, but he had no choice. “Yeah. Somewhat.”
Barrett nodded. “If you feel lightheaded or suddenly too cold or hot, tell me immediately.” He waited until Ambrose shook his head in agreement before continuing to cut lower.
As the tights fell away, Ambrose saw how bad his ankle was in its full glory. The bruising bled up his leg and over his shin, but when Barrett finally got to his ankle, his hiss was more of shock than pain. It was now twice its normal size and a deep, ugly blue-purple. His vision swam and he closed his eyes. “Could you...give me a moment?”
“Take all the time you need. It isn’t getting any worse in the next few.”
He shuddered and leaned back in his seat. The chair’s rough fabric was strangely grounding under his fingertips. The air was still cold but he caught a waft of green tea and wool. Moments passed and all he heard was his heavy breathing slowly easing into a less terrifying harshness. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Barrett was either endlessly patient or his ankle wasn’t as bad as the swelling and bruising let on. Ambrose passed the next minute with eyes closed, focusing on his breathing, and then Barrett said, “Got you free. Can I take a closer look?”
Ambrose cracked his eyes open. Barrett was still kneeling at his feet but there was a little nick between his eyebrows, concern flaring in those dark brown eyes. “You an expert on busted ankles?”
He sounded horrifically cranky (which he felt like there was cause for), but Barrett didn’t seem to mind his snippy tone. “I was a paramedic a while back. Still use the skills for the forestry service.”
Like today.
That jived with what his online snooping had turned up. But it helped his panic ease a little. “Yeah, all right.”
“All right.” He knew Barrett was speaking gently, repeating his own words to help Ambrose relax. It was a good trick and one that, even if you were aware of it, did help. “I gotta poke a little, so this might suck.”
He laughed blithely. “Might?”
Barrett grinned, teeth bright against his dark beard. It was a nice smile; friendly and open and gave you the impression you were safe at the same time. Ambrose sank deeper into the chair. “Well, I can’t guarantee anything. From the swelling, I think you’ve got a nasty sprain. Probably from the fall and banging against the bridge. But we won’t know about a fracture until we can get you into an x-ray.”
Ambrose found he couldn’t argue with any of that. He nodded, and Barrett began turning his ankle over in big, broad-palmed hands. Whenever Ambrose hissed or winced, Barrett smiled apologetically. There was the crackle of the fireplace and the hum of the generator over the roar of the wind outside, but neither man made a sound.
After a few long minutes, with Ambrose’s ankle throbbing hotly with Barrett’s careful attentions, Barrett finally spoke up. “Yeah, a bad sprain, like I thought. I’d still like to take you to get an x-ray done, but until the storm passes, I’m going to wrap this and we’ll put a cold pack on it.” With that, Barrett stood and crossed the room once more, rummaging in a small footlocker at the base of the bed. He came back with one of those stretchy medical wraps and a cold pack that he cracked between his hands to activate.
As Barrett wrapped his ankle, Ambrose finally relaxed a little. It wasn’t the ankle that had been worrying him as much as thebeing touchedpart. But his neighbor had been nothing but kind and gentle, and this was after saving him from a fall. He felt like he owed something. Anything for the dignity shown to him, a total stranger. “Thank you again for the fish. And for everything today.” Ambrose grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. Gods, what a fucking stupid way to say thank you.
Apparently Barrett didn’t think so. He turned soft brown eyes up to him just as he finished tying the wrap and pressed the now active cold pack into Ambrose’s hands while he shoved a small footstool under his ankle. “Ain’t even a worry, Ambrose. I’m just glad.”
“Glad?”
“That you liked the fish. And that I was able to catch you today before you went any further.” Barrett frowned and that expression didn’t suit him nearly as well as the brightness that had been in his eyes a moment ago. “Something ain’t right with those bridges. We had four collapse.”
“Four? Fuck.”
“Yeah.” Carefully, Barrett took the ice pack back and maneuvered it to wrap around Ambrose’s ankle. With that done, he sat back on his haunches and nodded, pleased. “Do me a favor and avoid the trails for a bit? At least until we sort this out.”
“Yeah, sure. Not looking to repeat today.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, Ambrose had a few things on the tip of his tongue - inviting Barrett over for dinner as an extended thank you, asking him if he knew of good ice fishing spots, asking himanythingabout himself. Just being friendly. He hadn’t made a new friend in a long while and maybe it was time to shake off the dust.
The radio on the other end of the room blared to life and they both jumped. Chuckling, Barrett got to his feet and marched over, leaving Ambrose to stew in his pain-colored confusion. The conversation Barrett had was short: the roads were blocked, the storm was still raging, and they’d be lucky to get someone out to retrieve them by morning.
“Well, shit,” Barrett said as he ended the conversation with Marge, the station head. “It could be way worse. We could be stuck in the truck.”
Thatdidsound a ton worse than being inside and safe and warm. “Guess we’ll make the best of it,” Ambrose replied lightly, trying to already calculate sleeping arrangements.
Barrett must have been a mind reader - or very good at tracking eye movement - because he waved Ambrose off. “There’s a couple of pull out cots in storage. You need the bed, since you need the support.” He motioned to the little bathroom tucked into the corner. “Do you want to shower?”
That made his anxiety ratchet back up. He did not need to be fumbling and slipping in a tub and have to call Barrett for help. He wasn’t precious about his body but he also didn’t take pains to show it off, either. “No, I’m all right. But if you…”
