Page 145 of Cowboy Daddies

“Hey!”

“No!”

Both yells came at the same time but I had to give the trophy to whoever else was yelling as that volume was usually only attainable by opera singers and people who were literally scared out of their minds.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” My assurance was only met with wild kicking and more screams that sounded suspiciously like promises she didn’t “taste good” and pleas of “don’t eat me” which made about as much sense as, hell, as the flip-flop that I barely managed to dodge when it came sailing through the window. I kept up a low-muttered litany of reassurance as I cautiously surveyed the situation. When I realized only one leg was kicking like a bronco determined to unseat its rider, I saw the problem. Her other foot was tangled up in the seat belt. Touching her ankle only resulted in another scream I was rather shocked didn’t shatter every window of her car.

Time to regroup.

I wasn’t a man to retreat from a problem but was smart enough to realize approaching from the flank wasn’t going to work. Once out of the bush, I walked up the side of the ditch and rounded the rear of her car. A quick look had me thankful that there wasn’t more foliage waiting to hamper any rescue and also had me abruptly stopping mid step. If you’d asked what I’d thought I’d see, I honestly couldn’t have told you. But when they realized that I’d moved, their head lifted and another scream rent the air. I’d braced for that possibility, but I sure as hell wasn’t prepared to see it being issued by someone with the wildest mane of curly red hair and the hugest emerald eyes I’d ever seen. And never in a million years would I have expected to recognize the cutest damn pixie I’d ever laid my eyes on hanging half-way out the passenger-side window.

Her scream cut off mid-note as our eyes met and time slipped.

I had no clue how long we stared at each other, but when she smiled, my heart flipped in my chest, and when she said, “Hi, Linc,” my entire world tilted off its axis.

“Hi, Livvy. You always did know how to make an entrance, didn’t you?”

The sight of her button nose crinkling and the sound of her giggle had my lips curling. But when I saw the blood, all levity flew out the window and snapped me back into action.

“Fuck, you’re hurt!” My mind went into overdrive to remember the first aid I’d begun learning as a Cub Scout. Though I was pretty sure I was going to need more than gauze and some tape to fix whatever booboo this was. I had no doubt I’d receive a failing mark as a volunteer fireman too, as I’d not even begun to administer the first steps learned in the advanced courses. Not only had I not managed to get her in a prone position, she’d been jerking around like a crazed marionette while I’d stood there chuckling and rubbing my damn jaw. In my mind’s eye, I could see Captain Willams’ scowl of disapproval, but it wasn’t like I’d been the cause of the crash. I was simply trying to handle the aftermath.

Then handle it, dumbass.

It wasn’t very helpful, but it was incentive enough for me to address the injured party. I had jumped and half slid down the embankment until I could crouch down to meet her at eye level, then instantly regretted doing so when she lifted her head.

“No, don’t move, honey.”

“I’m…”

“Don’t talk either. You could have a serious head injury⁠—”

“I don’t⁠—”

“And I said don’t⁠—”

“Well, you’re just as bossy as ever, aren’t you!”

“Until I can get you out of the car and make sure you haven’t broken anything, it really is best if you remain as still as possible. Do you think you can do that for me, pixie?” When she began to nod her head, I shook mine. “And that includes your head. Your chin is bleeding and you can have whiplash and a concussion.”

“I don’t think⁠—”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Are you?”

I was sorely tempted to state I was but had never been one to lie. “No, but I’m afraid I’m all you’ve got unless you’d rather hang around and wait for me to fetch one?”

Her giggle was cute but also accompanied by a wince and the tip of her tongue slipping out of her mouth as if she thought she’d be able to reach her injury and soothe it.

“Unless you’ve grown a tongue the length of a giraffe’s and developed a taste for blood, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warned, dropping one of my hands to pull a handkerchief out of my pocket. Holding it up, I quirked my eyebrow.

“Yes, please.”

Grinning, I gently wiped the drop of blood away, grateful not to see another immediately welling to take its place. I felt an almost irresistible urge to lean forward and kiss the boo-boo better but was saved from making a fool of myself when she groaned.

“Can you tell me what hurts?” I asked.

“My ankle. I thought you were some rabid bear reaching in to grab me, and I was trying to get out the window.”