2. James
JAMES
T he relief and anguish I felt when I saw her standing at the side of the road was disconcerting.
I wasn’t happy about Alan hiring her, hadn’t been fully convinced we needed her on our payroll.
But in the end, I trusted Alan.
He was the one taking care of people’s health around Moon Lake. He was the one with the boots-on-the ground knowledge, and one thing I’d learned in my years in the military: it was to trust the guys on the frontline and to support them to the best of my abilities.
And my role now was similar. I was just the mayor of Moon Lake, trying to keep our flourishing little town just like that. Flourishing.
So when our town doc needed support. That’s what he got.
I jumped out and glanced at the old Toyota Corolla in passing on my way to her. The firefighter in me made a quick assessment. We were off the street, so we didn’t need to create a traffic control zone. The car was now wedged against the metal guard railing which separated the vista point from the water’s edge. No visible leaks, so no danger to the environment. Minimal damage. Except for the windshield, and probably the side I couldn't assess just now.
Though the car must’ve been barely drivable even before its encounter with the guardrails. What a piece of junk.
No wonder the brakes failed.
My eyes went from the sorry excuse of a car to her.
Number one priority: Life Safety.
She was dirty, bloody, and white as a sheet. And the prettiest young woman I’d ever laid my eyes on.
And trust me, I’d seen a lot of women dolled up to the nines. But not one of them could even come close to her.
Her strawberry-blond hair was pulled back into a loose and slightly lopsided topknot.
Her eyes were wide, and tears glittered in her surprisingly dark lashes.
The tank top she wore might’ve been white at some point but was soaked with dirt and blood now. Why the fuck was she wearing a tank top when it was freezing cold?
And the way she cradled the small dog wrapped in a padded jacket in her arms against her chest?
Heart-wrenching.
“Richard, can you take the dog?” I ordered once I reached her, naturally taking charge.
Richard nodded and approached her.
For a second there, it looked like she wouldn’t let go. So I stepped up and cupped her cheek, demanding her attention. “It’s okay. We got you. We’ll take care of everything, okay?”
I waited until she nodded through watery eyes. “You can let go now. I got you.”
Then I nodded, and Richard carefully lifted the dog out of her arms.
Once he had it and gave us a nod, I made myself step to the side and let Alan sweep in.
Despite every fiber in my body screaming to check on her myself and having enough training and experience to do so,
Alan was the doc. And I wasn’t stupid enough to not use his superior capabilities.
“Are you hurt?” Alan asked her while checking her eyes, then he manually scanned her skull and neck.
She shook her head, then grimaced.
So she was hurting.
Something dark and urgent coiled inside of me. And it took every ounce of my willpower to stay back and let Alan do his job and not wrap her into my jacket and sweep her up into my arms, like she’d done with the dog.
“Headache? Nausea? Trouble breathing?”
“No.”
Her voice sounded hesitant and tinny. Was she lying? My protective instincts skyrocketed.
Alan stepped back and met my gaze. I could see in his eyes he didn’t believe her either but there wasn't anything more he could do right than and there.
I shrugged, then took a step toward her, opened my jacket and my arms. Why, I didn’t know, but she looked like she needed a hug, and at the minimum, she needed my body heat.
When she stepped into the embrace without even hesitating, the knot in my chest, that had formed on the way over loosened slightly.
Nothing worse than having someone on the phone and hearing their distress, witnessing their tears, and not being able to be there in person.
Her scent hit me first: coconut mixed with something deliciously sweet—cinnamon?
I took a deep, calming breath, then closed my jacket behind her back.
At least I could give her a shoulder to cry on, a hug to buffer the shock, and my body to warm up hers.
I ignored Alan’s raised brow and Richard’s half-grin.
Usually, my cuddly side was reserved for my twins, Marley and Abby, and confined to our home.
But this felt right.
And necessary.
And inevitable.