Page 69 of What it Takes
May was watering the petunias that draped out of boxes lining the windowsills on the front of the house. She was using an old-fashioned metal watering can, which made Laney smile since she knew there was a hose coiled up and hanging on a bracket on the side of the garage.
“Hi, Laney,” she called when Laney got out of her car. “How are you today?”
“I’m good, thanks. Your flowers look beautiful. The colors are so cheerful.” The bright pinks and purples would match her chairs, she thought.
“Thank you. I don’t have the patience for big flower beds, but I do like a little pop of color around the house.” She set the watering can down and pinched a dying blossom off the plant. “I haven’t seen Ben yet.”
“I don’t know if he’s just running late or if he’s out on a call and hasn’t had a chance to text yet.”
“Since he’s not here yet, would you mind helping me in the backyard for a few minutes? I’m trying to convince Alan we need to enlarge the patio and put in a hot tub, but he says we don’t have room. I found a hundred-foot tape measure in the garage and some dimensions on the internet, and now I need help proving him wrong.”
Laney laughed. “That sounds like fun. I’d be happy to help.”
* * *
Ben had about had his fill of four-wheelers, idiots and his cell phone ringing. The first call of the day had been a couple of local kids playing in a sand pit they knew was off-limits. Rolling his ATV over on himself had scared the crap out of one of the teenagers, but he was lucky enough to escape with a broken leg.
The second call had been a couple of guys from Connecticut up for the week who’d gotten lost. They didn’t have any food or water with them, and they didn’t want to spend all day waiting, so they’d faked a suspected head injury to get a faster response. They’d gotten a faster response. They were also going to get a hefty bill if Matt Barnett had his way, since Maine allowed billing for rescues if the rescue was caused by the victims being idiots.
So Ben wasn’t thrilled to get a third call. He hadn’t yet had a day he regretted taking the job, but riding through the woods for no good reason got old fast. Especially on a Tuesday, when it was supposed to be slow and he’d get to see Laney. He’d put together a homemade pizza earlier so they could just pop it in the oven and have some extra time on the couch. As much as he enjoyed cooking with her, he enjoyed her being in his arms a lot more.
If he lost out on that extra time because some dumbass did something stupid, he’d be pissed.
But until he knew exactly what he was dealing with, every minute could mean the difference between life and death, so he tore through the woods until he spotted a rider standing in the middle of the trail, waving his arms.
It wasn’t a nuisance. The rider and his wife had been riding double on a two-up machine, with no helmets, and he’d hit a water bar badly. Sometimes shallow trenches were dug across trails for drainage, since the alternative was water washing out the trail itself. This particular water bar was marked, but the rider either hadn’t seen the sign or hadn’t taken it seriously. The front end of the machine had hit the ditch, the ass end had come up, and his wife had been thrown off the back, straight into a tree.
She was unconscious with an obvious head injury and probably trauma to her neck and spine. Ben immobilized her the best he could and had his hands full just keeping her breathing until the rest of the guys showed up.
Thanks to the shortcuts he and Josh had managed to finagle, they only had to get her three miles to a nearby house, where an ambulance would take her to the closest hospital. The medical helicopter was already en route to pick her up there and take her either to Maine Med or to Boston because she needed a top-notch trauma team.
He rode beside the rescue sled secured in the side-by-side, monitoring her vitals and ready with the defibrillator, while Dave kneeled backwards, leaning over the front seat to squeeze the bag and keep her breathing as regular as possible.
Due to the seriousness of her condition, he chose to ride in the ambulance with the EMT, leaving the fire department guys to deal with her husband. There was no sense in Drew or one of the game wardens driving him to the local hospital, so they’d get him back to town and calm him down while they waited for the chopper’s final destination.
And even though it was the nature of his job and something he’d been doing for many years, Ben had a hard time letting this patient go when the medical flight’s paramedic took over. They knew each other from the job, but other than a brief hello, it was just a recitation of facts and stats on Ben’s part and a confirmation on the other guy’s. Then they were gone and Ben was left standing in a hallway, the adrenaline fading.
And no way back to Whitford.
Dammit.He took out his phone and wasn’t surprised there were no text messages from Laney. She’d told him once she assumed he was dealing with an emergency and didn’t want to distract him, trusting him to reach out to her when he had a chance. While he appreciated that, since he’d dated women in the past who weren’t so patient, he could have used the boost.
There was a bad one,he typed into a message for her.I’m at the hospital and have to get a ride back. Don’t know how long I’ll be. Sorry.
It’s okay. Do you want me to come get you?
As exhausted as he was, that made him smile. I’ll see who’s around, but probably not. If I do, I’ll let you know.
If you get a ride, let me know when you’ll be home. I found the pizza in the fridge and I’ll put it in the oven so it’ll be ready when you get here.
She was at his place. She was waiting for him, and ready to put dinner in the oven so he’d have a hot meal when he got there. Ben closed his eyes for a moment, soaking in the feeling of having the thing he’d come to want more than anything—not only a woman at home who cared, but Laney.
Until the afterglow wore off and she got dressed and went back to her place.
But he’d take what she was willing to give him, just as he’d told her he would.Thanks. I’ll let you know.
Before he could start making calls, looking for a state trooper or a game warden out patrolling the region who could extend that patrol to Whitford with him riding shotgun, his phone rang and Drew’s number came up.
“Hey,” Drew said. “I heard on the radio the patient’s on her way to Boston. Just wanted to give you a heads-up that Butch is on his way in the tow truck. He was listening to his scanner and left shortly after the ambulance to give you a ride back. He’s probably about twenty minutes behind you.”
