Sneak Preview Accidental Hero #2
Matt drove after him and parked beside the SUV. Turning off the motor, he leaped to the ground and jogged across the highway to the red pickup truck. Its motor was still running, and the smoke was rising more thickly than before.
Whoever was behind the wheel needed to get out. Now! Matt took a running jump to climb on top of the cab so he could reach the driver’s door. It was locked.
Pounding on the window, he shouted to the driver, “Are you okay in there?”
There was no answer. Squinting through the glass, he could make out the unmoving figure of a woman. Blonde, slender, and curled to one side. The only thing holding her in place were the straps of her seatbelt around her waist and shoulder. A trickle of red ran across one cheek.
Matt’s survival training kicked in. Swinging a leg, he jabbed the heel of his boot into the section of window nearest the door lock. He managed to pop a hole big enough to reach inside and pull open the door.
The next part was a little trickier, since he had to reach down — way down — to unbuckle the woman and catch her before she fell. It would’ve been easier if she were conscious and able to follow his instructions.
An ominous hiss of steam and smoke from beneath the hood stiffened his resolve and made him move faster.
“Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered, releasing her seatbelt and scooping her into his arms. With a grunt of exertion, he hefted her free of the mangled truck cab. Then he half-slid, half hopped back to the ground with her in his arms. As soon as his boots hit the pavement, he took off running.
She was lighter than he’d been expecting. Her shoulders felt desperately thin beneath her baggy pink and plaid shirt. One long, strawberry blonde braid dangled over her shoulder, and a sprinkle of freckles stood out in stark relief against her pale cheeks.
She didn’t so much as twitch as he ran with her, indicating she was still out cold.
Visions of traumatic brain injuries and their long list of complications swarmed through his mind, along with the possibility that he might be moving a woman with a broken neck or back.
He sent up a silent prayer that it wasn’t the case.
He carried her to the shoulder on the right side of the highway, up a grassy knoll where Officer McCarty was depositing the other injured victims. A dry wind gusted, sending a layer of fine dust in their direction.
One prickly, rolling tumbleweed followed.
On the other side of the knoll was a rocky canyon wall that went straight up, underscoring the fact that there had been little chance for the hapless other drivers to avoid the collision.
They’d literally been trapped between the canyon and oncoming traffic.
An explosion ricocheted through the air, shaking the ground beneath Matt’s boots. He dove for the grass, using his body to shield the woman in his arms. He used a hand to cradle her head against his chest and his other hand to break their fall as best he could.
A few of the other injured drivers and passengers gasped and started praying frenziedly as smoke billowed around them, blanketing the grassy knoll.
For the next several minute or two, it was difficult to see much of anything.
The woman beneath Matt remained motionless, though he thought he heard her mumble something at one point.
He continued to crouch over her, keeping her head cradled against him.
He rubbed his thumb beneath her nose to make sure she was still breathing.
She was. However, she remained unconscious.
While he debated what to do next, a fire engine howled in the distance, making his shoulders slump in relief. Help had finally arrived. More sirens blared, and the area was soon crawling with fire engines, ambulances, and paramedics with stretchers. One of them walked determinedly in his direction.
“Hi! My name is Star, and I’m here to help you. What’s your name, sir?” the EMT worker inquired in a calm, even tone. Her chin-length dark hair was blowing nearly sideways in the wind. She shook her head to clear her line of vision, revealing a pair of dark eyes swimming with concern.
“I’m Sergeant Matt Romero,” he informed her out of habit. Well, maybe no longer the sergeant part. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. This woman isn’t. I don’t know her name. She was unconscious when I pulled her out of her truck.”
The curvy EMT stepped closer. Her name tag read Corrigan . The moment she caught sight of the injured woman’s face, her forehead wrinkled in alarm. “Bree?” Tossing her red medical bag on the ground, she slid to her knees. “Bree, honey!” She reached for the unconscious woman’s pulse.
She stirred, and her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks. Then they snapped open, revealing two pools of the deepest blue Matt had ever seen. Though glazed with pain, her gaze latched anxiously onto him. “Don’t leave me,” she pleaded with a hitch in her voice.
There was something oddly personal about the request. Though he was sure they’d never met before, she sounded like she recognized him.
Her obvious confusion tugged at his sympathies. “I won’t,” he promised huskily, not sure what else to say. In that moment, he probably would have said anything to make the desperate look in her eyes go away.
“I don’t like her heart rate.” Star produced a penlight and flipped it on. Shining it in one of the woman’s eyes, then the other, she announced in an urgent voice, “Bree, it’s Star. Can you tell me what happened, hon?”
A shiver worked its way through Bree’s too-thin frame. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered again to Matt. Then her eyelids fluttered closed. A second shiver worked its way through her, then another.
“She’s going into shock.” Star glanced worriedly over her shoulder. “I need a stretcher over here,” she called sharply. One was swiftly rolled in their direction.
Matt helped the two EMTs lift and deposit their precious burden on it.
“Can you make it to the hospital?” Star shot him a harried look as he helped push the stretcher toward the nearest ambulance. “Bree seemed pretty insistent about you sticking around.”
Matt’s eyebrows rose. He hadn’t been expecting a second person he’d never met before to ask him to linger.
“Uh, sure.” In her delirium, the injured woman had probably mistaken him for someone else.
However, he didn’t mind helping out. Who knows?
Maybe he could give the attending physician some information about her rescue that might prove useful in her treatment.
Or maybe he was just drawn to the fragile-looking Bree for reasons he couldn’t explain.
Whatever the case, Matt wasn’t feeling in a terrible hurry to hit the road again.
Fortunately, he had plenty of extra time built into his schedule before his interview tomorrow.
The only task he had left for the day was finding a hotel room once he reached Amarillo.
“I just need to let Officer McCarty know I’m leaving the scene of the accident.
” Matt shook his head sheepishly. “I hate to admit this, but he had me pulled over for speeding before everything went down here.” He waved a hand at the carnage around them.
It was a dismal scene, punctuated by twisted metal and scorched pavement.
All three mangled vehicles looked like they were totaled.
Star snickered, then seemed to catch herself. “Sorry. That was inappropriate laughter. Very inappropriate laughter.”
“It’s okay.” He shrugged, not the least bit offended.
A lot of people laughed when they were nervous or upset, which Star clearly had been since the moment she’d discovered the unconscious woman was a friend.
“I’m the one who shouldn’t have been driving these long, empty stretches of highway without my cruise control on.
” Especially while wallowing in depressing memories of his ex.
Star shot him a sympathetic look. “Believe me, I’m not judging. Far from it.” She reached out to pat Officer McCarty’s arm as they passed by him with the stretcher. “The only reason a bunch of us in Hereford don’t have a lot more points on our licenses is because we grew up with this sweet guy.”
“Oh, no! Is that Bree?” Officer McCarty pulled his sunglasses down to take a closer look over the top of his lenses. His stoic expression was gone. In its place was one etched with worry. The personal kind. Like Star, he knew the injured woman.
“Yeah.” Star’s pink glossy lips twisted. “She and her brother can’t catch a break, can they?”
Two more paramedics converged on them to help lift Bree’s stretcher into the ambulance.
Matt turned to face the trooper who’d pulled him over.
“Any issues with me following them to the hospital, officer? Star asked if I would.” Unfortunately, it would give the guy an opportunity to get back to writing that speeding ticket, but following the ambulance still felt like the right thing to do.
“Emmitt,” Officer McCarty corrected, holding out a hand. “Really appreciate your help out here. You more than worked off your ticket.”
Matt shook his hand. “I was glad to help.” It felt like an enormous concession to be let off the hook a second time. The guy could’ve taken his driver’s license if he’d wanted to.
They soberly eyed each other.
“You need me to come by the police station to file a witness report or anything before I hit the road again?” Matt pressed.
“Nah. Just give me a call, and we’ll take care of it over the phone.” Emmitt produced a business card and held it out to him. “Not sure if we’ll need your story, since I saw what happened, but we’ll dot every I and cross every T, anyway.”
“Roger that.” Matt stuffed the card in the back pocket of his jeans .
“Where are you headed, anyway?”
“Amarillo. Got an interview at Pantex tomorrow.”
“Nice!” Emmitt nodded in approval. “I know a few guys who work there.”
Star leaned out from the back of the ambulance. “You coming or what?” She gave Matt an impatient look.