Page 8 of Midnight and Mine

The team rushes to my side, and I hear the hitch in their breaths as they notice it’s Wynter. I glance at them, and concern is written all over their faces—the slight pinch between their eyes with lips tucked into their mouths. I can’t hold back the tears, and my words come out strangled like someone is choking me with a tie. “Please, wake up for me. What were you doing out here at night by yourself?”

Henry, one of the EMTs, takes her vitals, carefully rolling her onto the stretcher. Bravo barks, and her lids work to open. I move Henry out of the way. “Wynter. You’re going to be okay.”

Her facial expression is blank, which isn’t unusual for someone with head trauma. Pale moonlight shrouds her face and bathes Wynter’s skin in an eerie glow. I remove the camera from around her neck, and hope it didn’t press into the baby as she landed.

God, this is bad. So bad.

Henry demands, “We need to get her to the hospital… stat.”

I nod, unleash Bravo, and help carry Wynter back up the terrain. The EMT’s allow me to ride with Wynter, a perk of living in a small town. As we speed toward the hospital, the sound of the siren feels surreal. I grip her hand, whispering words of love, urging her to fight.

I’ve never been so terrified as I am right now. Henry has her hooked up, recording her vitals. Her pulse is slow, and she’s going in and out of consciousness. I grab one of her hands and cup it between mine, kissing the smooth skin between the scrapes.

The ride seems to take forever, but the ambulance comes to a stop, and the sirens turn silent. The back doors open, and Marla, one of the EMTs riding in front, motions for me to get out. Then they let down the ramp. Marla and Henry rush her into Elizabethtown General.

It’s serious enough that they didn't want to take her to the clinic in town—instead taking her to the big hospital forty-five minutes away. That’s why it felt like a long drive.

This is bad. I follow them into the emergency entrance, and they wheel her immediately into a room. As I pushpast the nurses, one places her hand on my torso. “I’m sorry, sir. You can’t come in.”

“The hell I can’t. She’s my wife,” I plead. It comes out harsh, but I recognize sympathy in the nurse’s eyes.

“Let us do our job.” She tilts her head. “Please. I promise to update you as much as possible.”

If I get kicked out, that won’t do Wynter any good. So, I shake my head in agreement.

The nurses give me small, compassionate smiles. “But talk to the admissions nurse so we know if she has any allergies, conditions, etc.”

“She’s pregnant. Latex. She’s allergic to latex.” This seems to surprise her, and she quickly pedals backward to the double doors.

“Okay, thank you.”

“Please, please take care of my wife. Don’t let her die.”

She gives me a tightlipped smile because she can’t promise me that.

My hands shake as I fill out the four pages of insurance and medical questions. When I hand it back in, I pace the waiting room. Why aren’t they out here telling me anything? Finally, Henry and Marla come back out.

“Is she going to be okay?” I choke out.

Marla looks at Henry as he clears his throat. “It’s touch and go. They stabilized her, but she suffered a serious blunt-force trauma to her head. I mean, that’s my opinion. I’m not a doctor.”

“I know you’re not a doctor, but you’ve been doing this for ten years. Just tell me what you know.”

He folds his palm over my shoulder. “Scotty, they’re doing an ultrasound on the baby now. Then they’re going to set her broken leg and cast it. As far as her waking up, they’re inducing coma to minimize brain injury.”

“Coma? What? No. I need her to wake up.”

“This is what’s best for Wynter. Sometimes, they only do it for one to two days so she can heal. She’s going to be in an unbelievable amount of pain,” Henry explains. He would make a fantastic doctor. He has this calm demeanor and strikes the right tone that causes you to listen and trust him.

He pulls me into a hug. “Anyone you want me to call for you?”

“I’ll make the calls. It’ll give me something to do instead of pacing.”

When they leave, I call both of our parents, my older brother Major, Drake, and the rest of our gang. Drake arrives first. But before I know it, the waiting room is full—Maverick and Jessica, Beau and Vanessa, and Axel and Ali, as well as our parents, and of course, Major.

As I explain what I know, which isn’t much, Vanessa’s brows pinch. “Why was she there? She hasn’t mentioned going to the gorge since before she got pregnant.”

“I don’t know. She told me she was writing today and might take a few pictures around town. Why would she be so stupid to go to the gorge at night?” I pause. “Oh God, what if she fell early in the afternoon?”

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