Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“What’s her name?” Shane, one of the guys, asks me as he shines a light in her eyes.
“Dorothy,” I answer numbly, because I don’t know what else to do. Seeing her like this, unresponsive and in danger, I fall to my knees.
“Dorothy, we’re going to give you a shot. Stay with me, okay?” Shane tells her as another of the guys administers something in her vein.
After only a second, she blinks slowly and makes a groaning sound. I close my eyes and thank whatever guardian angel she has that she’s alive. She takes a few breaths, and the guys are asking her stuff, but I don’t hear any of it. All I can hear is the sound of my heartbeat in my ears because it’s beating for both of us right now.
The guys count down, and suddenly they’re moving the stretcher toward the house. I jump up off the ground and follow behind them, directing them into the house.
“Take her to the bedroom at the end, it’s got a bigger bed,” I call out, and the guys take her up the stairs. Shane walks over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder, and I prepare for the worst.
“She’s going to be okay.”
I stare at him, stunned, and he says it again. “She had a big bump on the head, but otherwise nothing else seems broken or hurt. She was lucky she was wearing her seatbelt.”
“How did you know?”
“The bruise on her shoulder.” He points to his collarbone. “That's what we like to see in accidents like hers.”
“What do I do?”
“Right now our biggest concern is a concussion, so a couple of the guys will hang by for a few hours to make sure she’s okay.”
“I can do it,” I say, but even as the words come out, I worry that I won’t be what she needs.
“If you can keep her awake and talking for a little while, then we can ask some questions to clear her of a concussion. But if she needs to go to Regional, it’s going to take an airlift a couple of hours. I think right now we wait and see, and if she needs to go in, we’ll get her there.”
“Okay,” is all I can manage because I’m not sure what other options I have.
“It’s going to be all right, Clay. She’s lucky you found her.”
I walk toward the stairs and think about what he said. I could feel something was wrong even before I got in the truck to go look for her. How did I know that? How did I know to stop at that exact spot in the road, because when I went back, I saw nothing. Why does it feel like I’m being pulled to her even now as I take the stairs two at a time?
Something about Dotty has awakened a part of me that I didn’t know was there. Maybe it never would have been there if she’d never come along. But the closer I get to her, the more my chest relaxes, and somehow I think beside her is exactly where I’m meant to be.
Chapter Seven
Dotty
“Where’s Clay?” I ask, trying to look past all the men surrounding the bed.
“He’s coming, darlin’,” one says in a long drawl. “I’m going to give you something so you can relax. Being tensed up all night will only leave you hurting more come tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I agree, trying to look toward the bedroom door as I feel the prick of the needle in my arm.
“There you go.”
“Thanks.”
“You need to try and stay awake. If you can’t fight the sleep, you can take a thirty-minute nap, but you need to get up for a few minutes between them.” I nod in understanding. My anxiety starts to grow with each second Clay isn't here.
“Are all cowboys this big?” I ask. They are filling the room and blocking my view of the door. “And handsome?” Is it some requirement to work for Clay?
“Out,” a deep voice barks, and although I can’t see him, I know who it is.
I feel myself relax, and I reach my hand up, trying to smooth my hair down. I stop when I pull a leaf out, thinking I must really look bad.
All the men start to shuffle out of the room, telling me to be careful and they’ll be back to check on me. It’s sweet that they all care so much. I don’t know why, but it makes me want to cry. I blink away the tears because the last thing I need to be right now is a blubbering mess.
Everyone leaves, and it’s only Clay and me now. He stands in the doorway, his eyes locked on me. I can’t read his expression, but I don’t want him to be mad at me right now. He can yell at me tomorrow.