Chapter 3: Xavier


    Xavier scanned the resumes on his desk, picking out relevant keywords like ‘prior experience’ and


    ‘first-aid qualified.’ He kept those in a separate pile and threw out the rest. If they didn’t have


    experience, they wouldn’tst on his mountain. That was just a cold, hard fact.


    The rest of the building was quiet, and while he usually enjoyed the rare silences, he couldn’t wait to


    have the full crew back. August was vacation month, so they weren’t here today.


    Lucas and Nash were probably lounging in the hot tub at the Lodge. Jake—his second—and Harley


    were shooting pool down at Mack’s, the local brewery where they all hung out off-duty.


    He frowned, remembering Jake’s text. Harley wasn’t easy to be around, but he’d noticed Jake hanging


    with him down at the bar more and moretely. It didn’t fit. Xavier had known Jake since they were


    kids, and the gentle pr bear didn’t typically jive with bad-tempered shifters, especially goris. Hell,


    maybe he’d been in this damn office so long, Harley had mellowed it.


    Xavier snorted at that. Yeah, right.


    He rubbed his two-day stubble, irritated to be missing out on down time with his crew. He wasn’t a


    partier like he used to be. Wilde Bear wasn’t so wild anymore. Not unless you counted the lengths he’d


    go to make a rescue. But still… a soak in the hot tub sounded damn nice. He’d settle for a pool game


    and a cold beer, though.


    The oldndline on his desk rang, startling him, and he yanked it up with a scowl. “Blue Bear Search


    and Rescue,” he grumbled.


    “Yes, hello, this is Blue Hole Emergency.” The girl sounded young, probably starstruck and trying to be


    flirty with the breathy way she talked. Xavier conjured an image of big tits and round ass, but her face


    morphed fast into that of his ex, and he blinked it away. It was no use.


    “What’ve you got?” Xavier asked, shifting straight into responder mode.


    “Stranded mountain biker. Up off Highway Six near Cripple Creek.”


    He grabbed a pen and paper and jotted down the details, his shoulders slumping. Summer was


    habitually a slow time for the crew. He missed the action of ski season but not enough to want to take a


    call today. He had other things to do. Like, hire a sixth. Or get drunk and argue with Harley over a game


    of pool. But he didn’t have anyone here to send in his ce.


    “I can be there in fifteen,” he said and hung up.


    Xavier fired up the truck and hit the gas, taking a fast right out of the station and onto the empty road.


    Eleven minutester, he pulled up behind the local sheriff’s car, its lights shing.


    He hopped out and jogged up the road past a DOT vehicle to the small group gathered. “Sheriff


    Williams,” he said and nodded once at the older man. He angled to include the woman who stood


    beside him but kept his eyes on the Sheriff. He didn’t have time for introductions or pleasantries. The


    rescue was all he could think of now.


    “What have you got so far?” Xavier asked.


    “Mountain biker went up that way,” Sheriff Williams said, pointing at a narrow trail winding up into the


    hills above them. “He went off the path about a half-mile up. Seems like his tire wedged into a ravine.


    He shot over the handlebars and ate it at the bottom of the gorge there. Broke his ankle. Can’t climb


    out.”


    “Equipment?” Xavier asked, squinting up at the trail before it disappeared around an outcropping of


    boulders.


    “Too slick with the loose rock up there. We need a climber. We need your bear, son.”


    Xavier whipped back and eyed the man. He didn’t mind the man’s easy reference of his animal. They’d


    known each other a long time and Xavier knew Williams supported the shifters here. But the woman


    beside him was DOT, if he had to guess. He wasn’t sure how friendly she would be toward him shifting


    to make a rescue. And he didn’t need to hear it right now, not when that biker needed help.


    As if sensing Xavier’s hesitation, Sheriff nodded sideways at the woman. “This is Laurel Adams from


    DOT. She’s going to take the report and coordinate anything else we need up here. I’ve got to run to


    another call. Damn teens spray painted our town sign at the base of the mountain with the word corn


    before the word hole.”


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    Sheriff Williams tipped his hat again and started for his car. “Get me on the radio if you need anything,”


    he added before he was gone.


    Shoulders taut, Xavier finally turned to look at the woman from DOT.