Chapter 4 #4
The poor mother sank to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
Brogan put one hand on her shoulder and leaned close to speak near her ear.
Whatever he said, she nodded agreement. He removed his shirt, wrung it out, and wrapped it around the boy’s head.
Fresh blood was already seeping through.
Lifting the child in his arms, Brogan stood and took long, sure strides up the grassy incline.
The boy hugged his neck so that blood now covered Brogan, too. His mother ran frantically behind them.
When Brogan got closer, she heard him say to the woman, “Try to calm down or you’re going to scare him.”
The poor mother instantly mopped her eyes and gave her son a wan smile.
Brogan issued calm instructions as he reached the deck. “I need dry towels, plenty of them, a first aid kit, and ice.”
Two women ran off to find the necessary items.
Using his foot, Brogan pulled a chair away from a table and then carefully lowered the boy into it. “Hold his hand,” he told the mother, but he also kept a hand on the boy’s shoulder as he turned to a young waiter. “I need a dry shirt for him. Can you find something?”
Another man stepped up and asked, “What can I do?”
“Make sure everyone else on the dock is okay.”
“The driver of the boat?”
Brogan dug in the pocket of his wet jeans, pulled out the keys, and handed them to the man. “Don’t let him go anywhere.”
“I won’t.” The man started down the hill.
Pixie stood between the two high chairs, one hand stroking Andy’s hair, the other on Shayna, as she watched Brogan efficiently care for the boy.
He was magnificent.
Confident and in control as he tended the awful gash on the boy’s head, as well as another on his forearm.
His hands were sure, his words comforting, and soon he had the bleeding somewhat under control.
Pixie knew the boy would still need stitches, and she worried about the bruising already showing up on his face.
Others watched in awe—and no wonder. They, too, could see Brogan’s scars, as well as the tattoo that proclaimed him part of the elite Navy SEALs. Yes, she’d looked up the design. The eagle, anchor, trident, and flintlock pistol were specific to SEALs.
Brogan was a larger-than-life hero, right here in Bramble, Kentucky, and he’d just handled a devastating situation with ease.
She was so proud of him.
At the same time, she felt completely useless.
The injured boy looked far too pale to Pixie, especially with blood still staining his face and neck, and even his chest, but he was alive thanks to Brogan.
“What’s your name, son?” Brogan asked.
“Benny.” He wiped at his eye, saw the blood on his fingers, and started to panic.
Brogan cleaned his hand as if it was nothing.
“What a strong kid you are, Benny. Not too many people can brag about tackling a propeller. I wouldn’t recommend it, though.
” New towels arrived, so he switched out the wrap on Benny’s head.
“You’ve got a cut on your noggin, and noggins bleed a lot, but it’s not too serious. I want you to know that, okay?”
With a weak smile, the boy tried to look at his arm, but Brogan carefully tilted his face back up. “You’re going to be fine. You can take my word for it, okay?”
“Okay.” Still worried, the kid asked, “Will I need stitches?”
“Yes, but you won’t feel a thing, and just think how many stories you’ll be able to tell your friends. In a town this size, you’re bound to be a local legend. For years to come, they’ll be talking about Benny, the boy who blocked a boat propeller with his head.”
Benny grinned. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You still did it. No one else got hurt, so I say you’re a hero.”
His mother stroked his wet hair. “He has so many friends. They’ll want to hear all about it, I’m sure.”
Brogan smiled at her. “Of course they will.” When the mother’s lips trembled, Brogan nudged the boy. “Tell your mama you’re fine so she doesn’t start crying again.” Lower, as if in confidence, he said, “Mothers worry a lot, and if you’re like me, you’ll do anything to keep her from crying.”
The boy grinned, and with blood staining the side of his face, the expression was especially endearing. “Don’t cry, Mom. I promise, I’m okay.”
“Good job,” Brogan praised as he painstakingly cleaned the wound on Benny’s arm.
His mother nodded. “Totally convincing, honey.” She took her son’s hand when he winced. “Thank you, sir.”
“You can call me Brogan.”
“I’m Ellen.”
The man who had gone down the hill returned, cleared his throat, and said, “Everyone else is fine. Lot of damage to the dock and boat, but everyone is accounted for.”
“Great. Thank you.”
Straightening, the man said, “No, thank you.” He glanced back, then at Brogan again. “From all of us.”
Brogan merely nodded.
Finally, EMTs showed up. As soon as they were on the scene, Brogan explained what had happened.
Tears filled Pixie’s eyes.
The boy’s mother cried, too, as she whispered to the EMT, “I thought I’d lost him, but this wonderful man brought him back to me.”
The EMT bent to check the boy’s arm. “Nice job.” He asked Brogan, “Where’d you learn to treat a wound?”
“I served.”
Brows up, the EMT glanced at the tattoo on Brogan’s upper arm, then gave his attention back to the boy. “Thank you for your service.” He smiled to the boy. “What do you say, kiddo? Want a ride in an ambulance just for kicks?”
Frantically, the boy turned to his mom.
She asked, “Am I allowed to ride with him?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What about my car? Both of my friends already left.”
Pixie cleared her throat. “Brogan and I could follow with one of us driving your car.”
All eyes moved to Pixie, and it suddenly felt as if the entire restaurant was watching her.
Brogan didn’t get a chance to weigh in on her plan before the woman rushed to Pixie to embrace her. “Thank you so much. I … Nothing like this has ever happened before.” She touched her forehead. “I never even considered … He loves the lake. I thought it would be a fun day.”
“I’m sure it was, until he got hurt.” Pixie took her hands. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. Is there someone you can call so you won’t be alone tonight?”
“I’ll be with Benny.” She smiled back at her son. “He’s all I need.”
For Pixie, it was like seeing her own future laid out before her, except she had Marlow and Cort; and whenever necessary, she knew they’d be there for her. Still, the situation felt eerily similar to what her own life would be.
The EMTs were ready to go, so she said to Ellen, “If you want to give me your number, I’ll call you once we get to the hospital so I can give you back your keys.”
They exchanged numbers quickly, and Ellen described her car and where it was parked.
Pixie was aware of Brogan watching, his laser focus on her as if he wanted to figure her out.
She’d volunteered him without a qualm, when maybe she shouldn’t have.
He was soaked, shirtless, and he’d just been through his own trauma.
Or at least she assumed fishing a boy from the lake and bringing him back to life had been traumatic for him. It had certainly rattled her. Still, she had to believe he’d be amenable to assisting the woman just a little bit more.
When the mother and her son started out, Brogan moved to Pixie’s side. He glanced at the kids, then asked her very quietly, “You got this for another minute?”
She nodded.
“I’ll be right back.” He paused to touch her cheek, looked as if he wanted to say something, but then strode after the EMTs.
Shakily, Pixie sank into her seat. Everyone was looking around as if unsure what to do, now that Brogan wasn’t on the scene. She felt the same. Fortunately, the babies were enthralled with all the chaos, rather than afraid. Since she’d turned their chairs, they hadn’t seen Benny or all the blood.
It was on the decking, the chair—she’d never seen so much blood.
Pulling her chair from the table, she scooted it over so she could sit directly in front of the kids. She knew they had to be getting hungry, so she got out Andy’s cup for him, along with a cookie, and then found one of Shayna’s bottles. The infant would likely need a diaper change soon, too.
Some people still watched her, but she concentrated on feeding the kids, talking softly to them while waiting for Brogan to return. Andy noticed a bird. Shayna took her bottle with greed.
She really needed three hands, but for now, she was making do.
“Who is he?”
“I’ve never seen him before.”
“He sure took charge.”
“Did you see how he ripped the guy out of his boat? It was like he weighed nothing.”
“He looks like he’s been through war, and that was definitely a SEAL tattoo.”
“Thank God he was here.”
The whispers swirled around Pixie, but she did her best to tune them out. When a waiter stopped by the table with a cola, she looked up in surprise.
“He asked me to bring this to you. He, um, said the caffeine and sugar would help.”
“He who?”
“The big guy.”
“Oh.” Yes, her throat was parched and she was shaky, but she hadn’t thought about it until that icy drink was placed before her. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Robin said your meals are on the house. Whatever you want.”
Robin Merriman ran the restaurant, but Pixie hadn’t seen her yet today. “She’s here?”
The young man nodded. “She’s got her hands full with all the excitement.”
“I can imagine. Give her my thanks, but I don’t think we’ll have time to eat now.” As soon as Brogan returned, they’d be heading to the hospital.
The waiter left, but Robin returned a few minutes later with a big bag and two more drinks in carryout cups. “I know you’re in a hurry, so I chose meals for you. Take them with you.”
“You didn’t need to—”
Robin put a hand on her shoulder. “I want to.” Lower, she said, “About bowled me over when I first got a look at him.”
In her mid-forties, with stylishly short dark hair and pretty green eyes, Robin was an attractive woman. Never before had Pixie heard her mention a man in such a way.
“He’s renting the lake house.”
“And saving customers.” She turned to smile at Andy, and then Shayna. “What a guy, right? He’ll be the talk of the town for a year. A real live action hero. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t been here.”
Pixie silently agreed. Without Brogan, would Benny even be alive now? The thought was chilling.
Just then, Brogan returned. He wore a new shirt that advertised the Docker restaurant. His jeans had been replaced with loose shorts. She assumed his wet clothes were in the bag he carried.
Before Pixie could ask, he explained, “One of the workers had the clothes with him.”
“The shirt is a little small,” Robin noted. “I think you needed an XL.”
“It’s dry, so no complaints from me.” He tried to pay her for the food, but she shook her head and took a step back. “It’s on the house. And I’m going to get you that XL, too, next time you come in.”
As he pushed his feet into his shoes and put his wallet and phone in a pocket of the shorts, he said, “You don’t need to—”
“This town owes you, Brogan. A few meals and a shirt are the very least I can do. I know Ellen. She and her girlfriends visit often.” Robin closed her eyes, drew a quick breath, and tried to find her composure. When she opened them again, she said, “I’m short on words, but thank you.”
With a nod, he relented and put away his money.
“Um.” A nearby waiter shifted his stance. “Cops will be here soon.”
“Robin has my number. They can call.” He lifted Andy from his seat, half-chewed cookie mess and all, quickly settled him in the stroller, put the bag of food in behind him, along with the bag of his clothes, and then lifted out Shayna.
He was careful to make sure she could finish her bottle. To Pixie, he asked, “You ready?”
She sensed his haste, knew Robin’s gratitude had made him uneasy; they really did need to go. “Yes, of course.” She collected the diaper bag and her purse. “I can push the stroller.”
“Great. Let’s go.” Ignoring all the curious gazes, he kept his attention straight ahead.
That didn’t stop anyone from looking, of course.
A chair slid back, and someone clapped.
Then more chairs were pushed from tables, followed by more clapping.
Pixie fought a smile, especially when she noticed Brogan’s disconcerted expression.
So much for keeping a low profile.
The commotion swelled until it seemed everyone at the restaurant, inside and out, was on their feet applauding him.
Brogan’s jaw locked.
She leaned into his shoulder and said, “They’re only thanking you.”
Pausing, his shoulders rigid, Brogan turned to face the crowd. Once everyone had quieted down, he gave a nod and said, “Have a nice night, everyone.” Then he turned again and ushered Pixie to the lot.
She couldn’t stop grinning, especially when Andy clapped his hands and yelled, “G’night!”