Distant thunder rumbled through the mountains as we wandered back down to our gear an hour later.
"I'm starving," Mike said as he pulled food and beer from his pack. The three of us dangled our feet in the water while sharing cold chicken and potato salad. We watched the sun slowly sink below the western mountains.
"It'll be getting dark in a couple of hours, we should pack up and head back," Joe said, as thunder rumbled again.
We packed up our things and put on our socks, boots, and hats. Slinging our gear onto our backs, we started down the mountain.
About thirty minutes later the storm rolled in, driving torrential rain into our faces, and lashing our naked skin. We helped each other down the slippery rocks, moving quickly while trying to keep our footing. The creek water slowly rose, turning muddy, as we hastened our descent.
Mike's face betrayed his normal calm; fear was beginning to show in his eyes. While hurrying down a group of boulders, my foot slipped. I slid off the one I was standing on and slammed my knee against another. With a "Crack!" my foot twisted as it wedged between them.
"Fuck!" I cried out as overwhelming pain surged in my ankle. My companions rushed to help as blood poured from a gash in my knee and washed down my leg in the rain.
Supporting most of my weight, they carried me down to Joe's pickup. Mike pulled off my pack, taking a towel from inside. They tossed our gear in the bed and helped me into the cab.
"Hold pressure on it," Mike said as he placed the towel against my knee. I held it as he slid in next to me and closed the door. I felt every bump as Joe drove through the pasture, wincing as each jolt enraged my ankle. After stopping for the gate, we drove back to Joe's cabin.
They carried me into the bathroom and set me on the closed toilet. Mike tended to my bleeding knee before carefully working to remove my socks and boots. My cries of pain filled the room until he finally pulled them free.
My ankle was swollen, and it was clear I needed a doctor. Mike managed to stop the bleeding and bandaged my knee before they carried me to the living room sofa. Joe brought me a pillow and a bag of ice. He set the pillow under my leg and carefully placed the ice around my ankle.
"We need to get you to the hospital," Mike said before turning to Joe. "I'll run home and grab his clothes."
"Take my truck," Joe said, handing the keys to Mike. He walked out as Joe sat down on the sofa next to me. "So why did you have to go and spoil the fun by injuring yourself like that?" he asked with a sympathetic smile.
"Trust me, I'd have preferred to finish the weekend playing with you sexy fuckers," I replied. It had been an incredible weekend, until now anyway.
"This is really going to screw things up for me, my job depends on my ability to drive. They don't pay vacation or sick leave. I need this to be a simple sprain." Joe carefully lifted the ice to look at my ankle.
"I'm not the doctor, but this looks like more than a sprain to me. I'm going to throw on some clothes before Mike gets back, I don't think they'll like me running around the hospital bare-assed and balls-out." He returned a few minutes later wearing a pair of well-fitted jeans and a red flannel shirt.
"I prefer the chaps and hat," I teased, then winced again. Mike returned a few minutes later with my clean clothes. He had dressed in his usual jeans and belt, wearing a black short-sleeved tee. They both helped me dress and get back into Joe's truck.
The storm was still raging, sheeting the windshield, and coming down faster than the wipers could fling it off. A crash of thunder briefly drowned out the rapid ping of rain and hailstones striking the metal roof.
"I put your car in the shop," Mike said, "there's plenty of room and the rain was getting in that stuck passenger window. I think it'll be at least a few days until you can drive it anyway."
"I have to drive to keep my job," I said, shaking my head in despair. Mike moved close to me and placed his arm around my shoulder.
"We'll get you through this," Mike said, as I began to tear up. He held me as Joe drove us to the hospital. They carried me inside where we took seats in the waiting room. The storm was subsiding when the nurse finally came out to get me. A few hours later I returned, ankle wrapped, and knee bandaged. They'd given me prescriptions for the pain and swelling.
"It's fractured," I said. "They told me it will take six to eight weeks to fully heal; driving is out of the question." They helped me climb back into Joe's truck and we headed back.
"Joe and I talked while you were seeing the doctor. You can stay at his cabin until you're back on your feet," Mike said. "His place has fewer stairs, and he works at home, so he'll be there when I'm at the shop."
"You guys don't need to do this," I said, "It's too much."
"Bullshit!" Joe said emphatically. "It's not, and unless you have another option, you are kind of stuck with us," he finished, smiling warmly.
I'd lived alone since becoming emancipated at sixteen. I was in a short relationship that ended badly and a few casual hookups. My family ties were broken so there was nobody else to help me.
"No," I said, finally answering.
It was just after midnight when we pulled into Joe's driveway. They carried me into the cabin, and into the bedroom. It was a large suite, containing a sitting area in front of a fireplace, and a massive Alaska King bed. French doors on the far wall opened out onto the deck. Mike disappeared as Joe helped me sit in a large, comfortable chair.
"I lived in the old house until it was damaged in eighty-eight, then in my RV while I had it demolished and built this cabin in its place." Joe's home was a modern log cabin. The center contained a kitchen, living and dining space, with stairs to a loft beneath the high vaulted ceiling. A glass wall framed the deck and the dark forest beyond. Two large suites bookended the cabin on the either side.
"It's amazing," I said truthfully. I'd never been inside such a beautiful home. Joe smiled and nodded his appreciation as Mike entered the room with an old pair of crutches.
