I had it covered and sent him to go find you. What happened to your patient?” she asked in an obvious attempt to redirect the conversation.
“I found a teenage girl down on the beach with her boyfriend.” Katy chuckled. “Both of them scared to death their parents were going to find out they’d been smoking pot. Apparently, it doesn’t agree with the girl, so the boyfriend took her away from the crowd, and she fell asleep waiting for the dizziness to pass.” Katy shrugged. “My guess is whoever called 911 saw them and thought the girl had also overdosed. The kids started apologizing when I showed up, thinking they were the reason we were there. And when I assured them they weren’t, the brats took off down the beach. I didn’t bother chasing them, figuring anyone that agile didn’t need a medic.”
“Probably right.”
“I was just climbing up the bluff when I heard you scream.” She smiled again. “And as luck would have it, I happened to notice a rake leaning against the side of the shed as I ran past.”
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Gretchen whispered. “One minute, the bastard was choking me, and the next minute, you showed up and kicked him hard enough that I swear I heard one of his ribs crack. Who taught you to do that?”
“Every Saturday morning when we were growing up, our father gave me and my older sister lessons on how to defend ourselves.”
There were several heartbeats of silence. “Could . . . do you think you could teach me to fight like that?”
Score! Katy smiled out the windshield. “Funny you should ask. I’ve been planning to talk to Birch Callahan, the lady who runs the crisis shelter here in town, about starting a self-defense class for women.”
“Then consider me your first student.”
“Oh, I won’t be teaching it,” Katy explained. “I’m hoping to get Niall and my other two male cousins to collectively teach it.”
“But wouldn’t the women be more comfortable learning from you? Why even bother involving men?”
“Because it’s most likely a man they’d ultimately be defending themselves against. And if women only spar with other women, they might lose their confidence if they ever found themselves facing an angry, aggressive brute.” She shot Gretchen a sinister grin. “Trust me, it’s quite empowering to know you can trounce a 250-pound man with nothing more than a broom or garden rake.”
Gretchen snorted. “I felt empowered just watching you go after that bastard. My God, you were relentless.”
“That’s because Papa taught Maggie and me to never hesitate or back down or we’d lose the advantage of both surprise and momentum.”
Gretchen straightened her shoulders as far as her sore ribs would allow. “I want to help set up the classes. We’ll ask Chief Wolfe if we can hold them at the station, and I’ll handle the paperwork and scheduling and make flyers to post around town.” She looked over at Katy. “That is, if you want my help.”
“I’d love it.”
“I . . . ah, I’m sorry,” Gretchen whispered, her shoulders slumping again.
“For what?”
“For being a bitch to you earlier.”
That made Katy laugh. “Do you honestly believe you’re the first person to judge me on my looks alone?”
Gretchen sighed. “I suppose not.”
“I’ve been underestimated most all my life.” Katy shot her another smile. “Sometimes it works to my advantage, but most of the time, it’s just a pain in the ass.” She rolled her eyes. “You think I have a hard time being taken seriously as a paramedic; imagine a New York businessman shopping for a million-dollar Maine vacation home believing a long-legged, perky-boobed, twenty-two-year-old knows anything about septic systems, artesian wells, snow loads, and shoreland regulations.”
Gretchen hid her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I actually called you that.”
“Too late. I’m not letting you take back your compliment.”
Gretchen dropped her hands and blinked at her. “What?”
“Every girl likes to hear she has perky boobs,” Katy drawled, laughing again when Gretchen’s gaze dropped to her chest.
Katy let off the gas as they approached town, only to spot their huge aerial set up down in the park near the base of the waterfalls, its rear floodlights illuminating the bucket extended high into the trees. She checked her outside mirror to make sure no one was behind her, then slowed the ambulance to a crawl as she idled across the bridge. “What do you suppose they’re doing?” she said, gesturing toward the fire truck.
“That looks like Matt in the bucket,” Gretchen rasped. “Now