The Snow Leopard's Home (Glacier Leopards 3)

But he wished he’d gotten her name.

***

There was the usual post-doctor’s-appointment ritual. Teri had to repeat everything Dr. Campbell had said. Then she had to do it again. Lillian was reprimanded for not going in with Teri and asking Dr. Campbell to tell her directly what was going on.

“Next time, I’m going with you,” Teri’s mother said firmly. “I really need to hear what the doctor says myself from now on.”

You ask him yourself anyway! Teri didn’t say.

Knowing it was a bad idea, she tried, “Technically, I don’t think Dr. Campbell’s allowed to tell anyone but me what’s going on. It’s illegal to break doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“Nonsense, I’m your mother.” Her mom waved her hand, as if brushing that idea away like a mosquito.

Then she frowned. “Are you saying you don’t want me to know how you’re doing? Teri, I’m caring for you. It could be dangerous to withhold important information about your health.” She leaned in with a steely glare. “Is there anything you haven’t told me?”

So that had gone about as well as expected. Teri had had to spend twenty minutes reassuring her mother she was telling the truth, and she knew her mom was still suspicious.

Her dad had spent the whole conversation sitting in his recliner with the crossword puzzle; he’d tuned out the moment Teri had said, I’m fine, Mom.

It was nice that someone believed her, but it would be nicer if he’d ever stand up to her mom’s bullying.

That night, Teri lay awake in the converted den (her mother didn’t want her sleeping in her old room because the stairs might be dangerous) and thought about the man she’d met outside Dr. Campbell’s office.

He’d been nice, but not the cloying sort of nice that came from pity. Teri had become very, very familiar with that sort of attitude since her accident.

The man hadn’t even known she’d been in an accident. It had been wonderfully freeing, to talk to someone who wasn’t knotted up with worry, who didn’t project concern with every word.

He’d asked her for help. Teri honestly could not remember the last time anybody had asked her to help with anything.

Before the accident, she’d worked as a receptionist. She’d gotten used to being the person everyone asked to do things. She’d even resented being overworked, wishing that people could just do stuff themselves instead of always getting her to do it.

She’d never thought she’d miss that. But for the last three months, she’d been utterly useless. And everyone had gotten used to it, and now no one would ask her for help with anything. And if she tried to do anything for herself, people would rush in and try to help her.

She used to be so independent.

Knowing that the man she’d met was a park ranger was making her remember all the time she’d spent in Glacier. She’d always loved the Park. She’d even done a couple of summer volunteer programs there when she was in high school, and she’d gone hiking there all the time before her accident.

Even when she was healthy, her mother had hated to think of Teri going hiking alone in the Park. But Teri loved it. She was smart enough to avoid anything really dangerous when she was by herself, but there was nothing more exhilarating than a hard day’s hike through the wild mountainous territory of Glacier National Park.

It had easy paths as well, though. Places to sit, visitor’s ce

nters to rest at. There was plenty she could do even now, and she suddenly wished her mother would ever, ever let her go. The crisp early-spring air, the gorgeous snow-capped mountains, the new green plants pushing up into the light...

She wanted to go. She wanted it more badly than she’d wanted anything in a long, long time. But her mother would never allow it. Ever.

Teri remembered suddenly that there was a bus.

The Park provided shuttle service from town. There was a stop near enough to Teri’s parents’ house—not much of a walk, and she could take it in stages if she had to.

She had a visitor’s pass, so she wouldn’t need money. This would be easy. She could walk to the stop, catch the bus right to the park, get off, and do as much as she felt able.

And if getting to the bus and taking it to the Park exhausted her, well, there was a visitor’s center. She’d pack water and granola bars and she could sit and rest as long as she needed. If she only ended up sitting outside in the sun and looking at the scenery while completely stationary, that was okay.

Her mother would no doubt go out to get coffee with Dr. Campbell tomorrow, to interrogate him about whether Teri’s report was accurate. Teri would leave her a note saying where she’d gone and how long she’d be away, so she couldn’t be accused of disappearing and her mother wouldn’t call the police in a terror that she’d been kidnapped.

If only that were funny.

She knew her mother would worry anyway. She knew that she’d get a lecture when she got home—probably at the top of her mom’s voice.