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She hesitates, and I turn her back around. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know,” she murmurs with her eyes closed. “I can’t tell yet. I don’t think so.”
“How did this happen?”
“There was...” her voice trails off.
“Lorelai?”
Her eyes snap up to meet mine. “There was a car...”
Her hands lift to rub her arms, and I see goosebumps prickling her forearms. The spring wind is cold and funnels straight down this winding road.
“Let’s get you warmed up.” I grab up her jacket where I’d tossed it and the helmet she’d dropped. I guide her to the passenger side of the truck with my hand on her middle back, so I don’t touch the welt. Before she gets in I ask, “Do you want to take off that belt, so it doesn’t rub you?” She just nods, unclasps the buckle, and lets me pull it gently from the loops.
I chuck everything I’m holding into the truck bed, and take the seatbelt from her shaking hands and lean over her to buckle it. I hear a soft chuckle and give her a questioning look. “No one’s ever buckled me in before.” She gives a slight smile and tips her head back against the head rest.
I’m about to close the door when Emilie pipes up from the back seat. “You fall off your bike, Mizz Mills?” Her tone is very serious.
“I did, Miss Carlo.”
“My Daddy holds me when I cry, too. It helps a lot.”
“I think so, too.”
I close the door on any further words, leaving them to their adorable conversation I really want to listen in on. I walk around to the driver's door and grab my phone from the holder on the dash. I dial a familiar number as I push the door closed.
“Trev, you busy?” I listen for a minute while he holds the phone away, promising to be right back to read the book after he talks to ‘Uncle James’. Becca’s lilting voice demanding it be a short call makes me smile. I know this big, tough man is as wrapped around tiny princess fingers as I am.
“Alright, I'm back What’s up, man?” I describe the scene to Trevor, and he promises to get his guys out, and to get the bike picked up.
“Are you sure she’s okay? You should probably take her to get checked out after you bring Emilie by.” I tell him I will and ask if he wants me to wait for his men. He says just to come straight there.
It’s a ten-minute ride to Trev’s, and he meets us in the driveway. Emilie gives me a giant hug and prances inside with her unicorn backpack. The doors are still open when Trev tells me to get Emilie settled and read Becca a book. I know he wants a minute to ask Lorelai for her statement. I turn to her. “He’s a cop?” she whispers.
I can’t read her face, but it seems she might be nervous. “He’s a cop, yes. But he’s also a great father and a good friend.” I watch to see if that makes her feel better, but I still can’t see her emotions. “I’ll be less than ten minutes, I promise.” I give her hand a little squeeze, closing the back door and leaving the front open.
I rush though a book with both girls and then press goodbye kisses to the tops of their heads. I take a second to drink them in. Sitting next to each other on the couch, it’s difficult to tell they have different fathers. They both have Naomi’s soft brown curls and caramel eyes.
I turn to head out, and I hear Emilie telling Becca that "Mizz Mills" fell off her bike on the road. At Becca’s exaggerated gasp, she reassures her that Miss Mills is ok. “Good. I like her,” Becca says. “Me, too,” Emilie whispers back. “An' she has cool boots.”
I had forgotten my promise about the boots. I’ll have to pick some up this weekend. But first, I have a damsel to rescue from the big, bad sheriff.
When I round the truck, I see Trev squatted down, talking to Lorelai from a low position. I recognize his tactic of making himself small so she feels safer, and once again I’m proud to have him as my friend. He’s observant and caring, and I know he’s doing his best to get his quasi-official statement without making her uncomfortable.
When I catch his eye, he rises, shakes her hand ,and pushes the door closed as I climb in the cab of the truck. He gives me a salute, and I pull out of his drive and head to the hospital.
Chapter 29
~~ Lorelai ~~
James drives in silence. The truck’s headlights switch on automatically as darkness settles around us. I’m not really paying attention to where we’re going until he pulls into the hospital parking lot. “I don’t need a hospital, James.”
“Lorelai." He turns in his seat. “If you have internal injuries, and something happens to you, I don’t think I can take it.” His voice is strained with worry.
He gets out and is around to my door, opening it before I’ve even unbuckled the belt. He steadies me at the waist as I slide off the seat and make the short drop to the pavement. Ugh. Even with his help, the jarring sends ripples of increasing discomfort through my body.
We walk inside and he’s hailed by a few passing nurses. He returns their waves, and stops at the information desk.
