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Thank fucking god.
“I think she got knocked out in the accident,” I say, hoping that’s the worst of her injuries. Like the baby though, she’ll be transported to the hospital and looked over.
Rawlins reappears with a backboard, and after a quick mental calculation, I set it in the back along the driver’s side wall of the camper. It’s balanced on the cabinets mounted there, but not super stable. Rawlins and Murphy gently move the driver while I hold the board in place, making sure to keep her spine as straight as we can until we have her strapped onto the board.
Murphy crawls out through the passenger side door, and Rawlins grabs the front of the board. We hoist her through the open passenger side door, and I direct the back of the board over the front seats.
Once we’re out, the guys carry her toward the ambulance, and when she’s secured to a stretcher, I look her over while the guys get her vitals. Midtwenties, black hair, medium build, she’s on the shorter side, I’d put her at maybe five feet one inch, about a hundred and thirty pounds, if I had to guess.
“Who’s a pretty princess? Who’s a pretty princess?” The sound of a baby laughing drags my attention away from the driver as the EMS van pulls up along the side of the road. Johansen is cooing and making faces at the little girl who’s still in her car seat.
“What’d you find?” I ask him.
“Registered to Maisie Williams. Twenty-eight. Address on file is in Texas, which matches the plates. No recent tickets or criminal record. Probably a tourist. Carrie was driving home from work and saw the accident. She’s the one who called it in.”
I nod. “You stay behind and process the scene. I’m going to ride to the hospital with these two.”
“She’s still out?” he asks, looking to where the firefighters and paramedics are surrounding her.
I nod again. “There’s a bump on the left side of her scalp, probably from where she bashed it against the window. Probably what knocked her out. Strong pulse though.”
Leaving Johansen to handle the scene, we load into the ambulance, the car seat nestled between my feet. I pull my phone out of my pocket and call my brother Jedd. He’s the only mechanic in town and the only person within fifty miles with a hauler big enough to tip and tow the camper out of the ditch.
“Whassit?” he answers, his voice heavy from sleep.
“Accident. There’s an RV tipped in the ditch just south of mile marker two forty.”
“Urgh. Okay. Be there in a few.”
“I’m on my way to the hospital with the driver and an infant. Tow it back to your shop and do me a favor. Look for the driver’s purse or wallet and a diaper bag for the baby, grab that and meet me at the hospital.”
“There was a kid? Are they okay?”
I don’t have a concrete answer for him. “Baby seems fine, but we’re taking them in to get checked out. Driver is still unconscious. Just get the stuff and meet me at the hospital, would you?”
“Yeah. Okay. Got it. Be there as soon as I can.”
I slip my phone back into my pocket, the sounds of the paramedics fading off in the background as I look over the driver. Aside from the swelling from the lump on the side of her face that’s already starting to bruise, she’s fucking gorgeous. Long lashes fan across the tops of her cheekbones, her lips relaxed and plump in her sleep.
Jesus, Harlan. Now’s not the time to appreciate the view.
I shake myself out of it and look down at the little girl who’s already fallen back asleep in her car seat.
Who are you two and what were you doing on the road so late at night?
A couple hours later, I’m still in the hospital and just got an update from the driver’s doctor. Mild concussion from the knock she took to her head, but otherwise all clear. She’ll wake up when she wakes up, but until then, they’re going to keep an eye on her.
Baby girl was fully cleared by pediatrics and came through the accident with nothing more than the bruising from her car seat on her shoulders.
These two were lucky. Luckier than some of the idiots on the scene.
Based on the accident report I got, the length of her skid marks indicate she was going about ten miles over the speed limit before she went into the guardrail.
“Hey.” I turn toward the familiar voice. Jedd strides down the corridor of the hospital with a bag looped over his shoulder and one of those tiny purses women use clasped in his hand. “What’s the news?”
“Driver has a concussion. Still hasn’t woken up yet, so they’re keeping an eye on her. Baby is fine, peds cleared her. She’s sleeping in her car seat in Mom’s room.” I wave him behind me.
I take the bag from him and usher him toward her room. Invasive and not giving a shit, I open the small handbag and take out the even smaller wallet.
