Healing Hearts: Gene & Amanda's Story, An Echo series novella (The Echo Series)

1. Chapter 1

one

Gene Rowland turned the radio dial to the next station. Easy listening wouldn’t cut it while driving Route 19. He found a classic rock station and was happy bobbing his head to Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick In The Wall” as he exited toward his hometown, Gainesville.

Gene could’ve waited until next week to drive home from Atlanta, but why stay in the city longer than needed? He sub-let his apartment in the city before he’d left for Costa Rica three months ago. After some much needed sleep in an airport hotel, there was no need to linger.

It was a good trip; a change of scenery he’d desperately needed from his daily twelve-hour shifts at the busiest emergency room in Atlanta to a short program where he’d got to teach the life-saving skills he’d put to work daily. The change of pace had given him time to think.

Maybe too much time to think, Gene mused.

He still didn’t know how he would feel at the end of his sabbatical from the hospital. The challenges he faced at the hospital kept him on his toes. Those years of residency and fellowship had made him the doctor he was today: a good one, but also burned out. After Costa Rica, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to go back to the hospital.

He didn’t even want to linger in the city this time.

Gene steered the car toward Browns Bridge Road—a more scenic route than the faster I-985—as dusk deepened. He wasn’t in a rush, and it was nice to glimpse the lake just as the sun disappeared on the horizon. Located by Lake Lanier and only a little over an hour’s drive from Atlanta, Gainesville was becoming the place many families planted roots. He and his siblings had wonderful years growing up there.

He missed hiking the trails around the lake or going fishing with his dad or doing other outdoor activities with his siblings and friends. Maybe he would find time to have fun again now that he wasn’t running in the hamster wheel that was the grueling hospital shifts—at least for the next few months.

As Gene drove across the old Browns Bridge, he smiled as the lake briefly opened up on both sides before trees surrounded him again. He paid closer attention to the road for animals that might decide to jump into the middle of the road without warning. It was especially harder to see in this bewitching hour.

Gene’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as the car about a half of mile ahead of him abruptly swerved on the road toward incoming traffic, veered back too fast and off to the side of the road.

Shit!

Gene stepped on the gas as a truck flew past him. He braked hard on the side of the road where the line of trees had stopped the other car. He quickly jumped out while dialing 911.

What the fuck just happened?

“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” the operator responded.

“There’s been an accident. A car drove off the Browns Bridge Road, a mile from the bridge toward Gainesville. I need an ambulance.”

He ran down to the wrecked car and checked the backseats before stopping at the driver’s side.

“I’m deploying help, sir. What’s your name?” the operator asked.

“Dr. Gene Rowland.” Gene saw a woman slumped against the window. He knocked on the glass. “Ma’am, are you okay in there?”

“How many passengers in the vehicle, doctor?” the operator asked.

“Just the driver. Female, mid to late twenties. She appears to be unconscious and may have a head injury. The airbag didn’t deploy.” Gene knocked on the glass again, louder this time. “Ma’am, can you hear me?”

He tried to open the door. “The door’s locked.”

“Help is on the way, doctor.”

Gene wasn’t the type to wait when someone needed help. The front part of the engine was smashed and there was smoke coming out of it. Not willing to risk the woman’s safety, he found a rock sharp enough to shatter the rear door window.

“What is that, sir?” the operator asked.

“I broke the rear door window to get to the lock. There’s smoke. I need to get her out of the car.”

“Sir, please wait for the fire department. They’re on their way,” the operator said.

But Gene wasn’t listening and shoved his phone into a pocket. He carefully opened the driver’s side door. The seatbelt had kept the woman from slumping forward, but her head lolled to the left. Half of her brown hair had come free from its binding, obscuring her face, but some of it was wet with blood.

He carefully lifted the matted hair to assess the woman’s injury. But he couldn’t check for much else in the low light until they stabilized her spine, and they moved her out of the vehicle.

Frustrated, Gene pulled out his phone again. “Where is that ambulance?”

“It’s a minute out, doctor. Can you tell me what’s happening?”

“The driver’s still unconscious. She has a bleeding gash on her forehead. It looks like she hit it on the door window. I haven’t moved her in case she injured her spine. I need a neck brace.”

The sounds of sirens finally reached Gene. “I hear them.”

The woman groaned in pain.

“She’s waking up,” Gene updated the operator. “Ma’am, don’t move. You were in a car accident. You hit your head.”

The woman didn’t listen and turned her head to face him, her eyes half-closed.

“I’m Dr. Rowland. Hold still until help arrives, okay? Can you tell me where you hurt?”

“Ugh, my head,” she mumbled.

“Can you open your eyes?” he asked.

Nodding, her eyelids slowly lifted. Gene couldn’t be absolutely sure in the current condition, but her pupils seemed to adjust to the light coming from the arriving emergency vehicles.

That’s a good sign.

He held her hand. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Amanda,” she whispered.

Gene smiled at her. “Hi, Amanda. You’re gonna be okay.”

Accident. Doctor. Help.

Ugh, what is happening?

Her vision focused for a moment when the voice prompted her to open her eyes. She made out sharp concerned eyes, a face shadowed by more than a five o’clock stubble and dusk before everything spun.

“You’re gonna be okay,” the voice said.

It didn’t feel like it. Something warm was running down her face, and she tentatively brushed it off with her hand. It felt sticky.

Blood.

“Hold on.” The man crouching over her took his shirt off, leaving him in a dark T-shirt. “You have a cut on your head. I’m gonna put pressure on it to slow down the bleeding.” He jumbled the shirt and pushed it against her head. His words explained the throbbing pain in her head. The past few minutes loaded back into her jostled brain, and she gasped as she remembered. “Don’t move. The paramedics are coming,” the man said gently.

“Did I hit her?” she demanded, as her head cleared.

“Hit who?” he said, his voice rose in alarm.

“The girl.”

Amanda felt her limbs again and fumbled with the latch of her seatbelt.

“Hey, take it easy,” he urged. “What girl, Amanda?”

“She was running down the road. She came out of nowhere.”

Amanda released herself from the restraint and pushed his hand off her head.

“Let me out.”

“Amanda, you shouldn’t be moving. You may have a concussion and spinal injury.”

“I’m fine.” She sat up and tried to push herself against him. “Move! We have to look for that girl. I might’ve hit her.”

“Easy!” He shifted back, only because Amanda wouldn’t sit still. “You’re going to hurt yourself further if you—”

Amanda didn’t listen. She shoved past him with the sudden surge of energy pumping into her system. Her legs gave out from under her, but muscular arms caught her before she fell to the leaf-covered ground. After quickly steadying herself, she held on to the car to pull herself up the slope toward the edge of the road.

Emergency vehicles arrived, lighting up the stretch of road. Amanda strained her neck to search for the girl or any shape that might resemble her. But there was nothing on the road except another car—presumably the man’s car. She started a slow jog along the side of the road and scanned the area.

“Amanda!” the man called, but she ignored him as she continued her mission.

She’s gotta be here!

“Slow down.” The man suddenly zipped around her and grabbed her arms to stop her. “You’re injured!”

“That girl may be hurt!” Amanda shouted at him.

“Let the police or the rescue crew look for her. You shouldn’t be on your feet,” he said.

She yanked her arms from his grasp. “Let me go. I’m fine!”

“Amanda, look at me!” he commanded, shocking her into focusing her wild eyes on him. “We’ll find her. But you can’t do this girl or yourself any good running around with a bleeding gash on your head.” He gentled his voice. “Let the paramedics treat you, and I’ll talk to the police. Okay?”

Amanda stared at the man. In the light now, she could make out his features. Those eyes looked familiar. Though his jaw was now covered in a trimmed beard, she felt she recognized the face underneath.

His voice. I know that voice.

“Gene?” she whispered.

“Yes, that’s me.” He turned her around and walked her back toward the emergency cars. Two people ran to them and took her by the arms.

“I’m Dr. Gene Rowland,” Gene said to the paramedics. “This is Amanda. I found her in the car, unconscious for about a minute. There’s a laceration on her left forehead. She didn’t listen to my instruction to stay still and got out of the vehicle. She didn’t exhibit any symptoms of spinal injuries.”

“Thanks. We’ll take it from here, Doctor,” the female paramedic said, leading her to the ambulance.

“Gene…” Amanda held on to Gene.

“Go with them.” He squeezed her hand. “We’ll look for her.”