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“How’s the festival planning going?” Noah takes a drink from a flask that reads “World’s Best Uncle.” The Maple Ridge police aren’t normally involved in search and rescues in the mountains, but Noah helps out whenever his schedule allows.
“It’s getting there,” I reply. “George Ottaway and Susan Hodges have been booking acts.” I list some of the individuals and groups.
Ethan gives an impressed whistle. “Isn’t Pushing Limits a major rock band?”
“It is. The lead singer had PTSD at one point, which is why the band volunteered to be part of the festival lineup.” I explain the purpose for the festival since Ethan recently moved to Maple Ridge and might not be aware of it. Or he might not be aware of the goal for it: to raise money to help victims of PTSD and their families.
“My best friend died last year because his PTSD became too much, and he ended his life.” And I didn’t do enough to prevent that from happening. “I want to make sure other sufferers get a better chance in life than he did.”
I want to make sure other families aren’t left to mourn the loss of a loved one with PTSD.
“I’m currently looking for more donors and sponsors to help pay for the equipment rentals needed for the festival,” I tell the men. “So if you know anyone who might be interested…”
“I should be able to swing something,” Sheldon says. “We can talk about it some more after we locate the father and son.” A wry grin spreads across his face. “I heard there’s gonna be an auction where women can win dates with sexy bachelors.” He chuckles.
I can’t believe that rumor’s still circulating. “I don’t know where you heard that from…” Rose, Delores, or Samantha, no doubt.
“So it’s not true?” Sheldon still looks amused, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Definitely not.”
“Why not?” This question is from Ethan, who I guess could fit under the title of sexy bachelor. I’m not exactly an expert on the topic. As far as I know, he’s single. “Seems to me something like that would raise a fair amount of money.”
“Philips is right about that.” Sheldon eyes each of us in turn like some all-knowing wizard. “There’s a reason romance novels are a billion-dollar industry.”
“And you know this because…?” Noah takes a swig of whatever’s in his flask.
“My wife. I made a dumbass remark about the half-naked man on the cover of the book she was reading and received a ten-minute lecture about the romance-novel industry. Word to the wise.” Sheldon wags his finger at us. “Never underestimate a woman’s love for those books. Never mock them, unless you appreciate getting blue balls for the week. Plus, there’re definite perks to women reading those books, if you get what I mean.” His eyebrows do a jig up his forehead, his expression smug.
He’s right about women loving that genre. Zara, Emily, and Simone all read those books. I’ve heard them go on about the ones they’re reading.
Jess is the only one out of the five of them who doesn’t seem to read romance. But I could be wrong. I’ve only seen the titles of some of the paperbacks and library books she’s read, and all of them are historical fiction, as well as Garrett’s latest release. It’s not like I’ve snooped through her phone, checking the e-book apps.
“I bet you’d make a shitload of money if the guys from Pushing Limits participated in the auction.” Sheldon laughs, knowing damn well the five rock stars would never go for that. I doubt their women would let them.
A smirk slides onto my face. “I’ll be sure to mention that to the entertainment committee and see what they think.”
Garrett snorts. “You’re only saying that because you won’t have to do it. You’ve got a girlfriend.”
“That won’t matter.” Sheldon points his flask in my direction. “Unless Troy’s married by then, he’ll still have to participate. Same deal with Noah. But it’s for a good cause, so I’m sure your girlfriends won’t care. It’s not like you have to sleep with or kiss the winning date.”
Ethan pushes to his feet. “No girlfriend in her right mind would let her boyfriend go out with another woman because she won a date with him in an auction.”
Sheldon shrugs, lifting the flask to his mouth. “The girlfriend would if she trusted him.”
I inwardly flinch. Trust is something that’s still missing from my relationship with Jess. She doesn’t trust me enough to tell me what led to her PTSD.
Sheldon’s walkie-talkie crackles to life, and he listens to what Command has to say. “We’re on our way. Ten-four.” He stands and gathers his daypack. “Break’s over. The hikers have been spotted. Now, we just need to rescue them from the ravine they’ve found themselves in.”
“Any injuries?” I ask.
“The father possibly has a broken leg, but the boy sounds like he’s fine. Just scared. The team needs experienced climbers to get them out.”
Which means me and Garrett.
The wind cranks up again, sending dried leaves cartwheeling across the ground.
2
