Page 37 of Unexpected Danger
Had the man gotten through to 911?
Gently, Brodie extracted Londyn from the SUV and held her close to his chest, hoping to temporarily warm her somewhat during the trek to his truck.
The elderly man exited his truck. “Want me to get the door?”
“Yes, please.”
The man opened the passenger side and Brodie rested Londyn inside, then turned on the heated seat.
“I called 911 again. They said the ambulance was on its way.”
Brodie clapped the man on the shoulder. “Thank you. I appreciate all your help.”
“Is she gonna be okay?”
“Keep praying.”
“I’ll do that.”
Brodie needed to increase the heat in the truck and make his own call to dispatch. He collected the man’s contact information before adding, “Sir, you can go ahead and go home now. Please drive safely, and thank you again.”
“You bet.”
Brodie climbed back into the truck and cranked the heater. He grabbed the emergency blanket from the back seat, removed his wet jacket, and draped the blanket across her.
Bruises and scratches marred her face. Long lashes fringed her closed eyes, and her breathing was shallow.
Lord, I’ve loved her for so long. Please don’t take her from me.
A thought popped into his head about why she had returned to Pronghorn Falls. Obviously, she was moving back if she had acargo trailer. But why? Dare he hope it was to reestablish their relationship?
He couldn’t think of all that now, but later, after he ensured she was all right, he’d ponder it.
“Dispatch, this is Sheriff Brenneman. I am on Highway Three, milepost nineteen, at the scene of the rollover. What is the ETA of the ambulance?”
“This is dispatch. Sheriff, there was a four-car pileup on the interstate, so there is a brief delay.”
“Is everyone all right?”
“I do believe there was a fatality.”
Brodie closed his eyes and leaned his head on the headrest. That was never news he wanted to hear. “I’m going to take the victim of the crash at milepost nineteen to the hospital. She’s breathing, but I’m not sure of other injuries.”
“I’ll let EMS know.”
Brodie didn’t hesitate a moment longer. He ensured Londyn was belted in, then fastened his own seat belt and started to Pronghorn Falls Memorial.
He’d driven this route through town and up the hill to Pronghorn Falls Memorial so many times, yet this evening it took twice as long as usual.
Londyn groaned, agony written on her face. “We’re almost there.” He wanted to take her into his arms and erase any of the pain she was undoubtedly feeling from the wreck. Driving the distance from the accident to the hospital offered him time to think.
About Londyn. About why she was here. About how close he’d come to losing her. About all the years he’d loved her. And still did.
When she’d left, he’d been broken. Yet through it all, he knew there would never be anyone else for him. His family and law enforcement coworkers had attempted to set him up with women over the past months, but Brodie hadn’t been interested. Roarke would tell him he was a romantic softie at heart—and maybe he was.
He’d prayed mightily prior to the night he’d proposed, asking that if it was God’s will, that Londyn become his wife. Loving someone since sixth grade and planning to love her for at least another eighty years was the main plan on the agenda he’d laid out for his life.
Just as he had the night of the prom, Brodie twirled her around. This time, she wasn’t wearing some frilly purple dress, but jeans and a pink t-shirt. This time, her hair wasn’t fixed all fancy by a hairstylist at a salon, but was pulled into a ponytail. She wasn’t wearing some uncomfortable-looking pointy-toed girlie shoes, but her regular tennis shoes—the ones she wore when they playfully raced to the truck earlier that evening. The race she’d won.
