The Texan's Secret

“Okay. I just heard from High Cotton’s fire chief. They’re having trouble with the truck.”

“Damn.” They were always having problems with that old fire engine. They’d been having fundraisers for a new one and had applied for a grant from the state of Texas to help with the cost. But this lady needed help now.

“Just stay on the line.”

“I’m not going anywhere, but this car is filling up fast.”

“Okay. Do you have anything to break a window?”

“I have a crowbar in my truck.”

“Get it, and wait for instructions.”

Gulping a breath, he ran back to his truck for the implement, then sloshed back into the creek to the stranded vehicle. “Now what?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Break the driver’s side window, but be careful.”

Switching to speakerphone, he placed his cell on the roof of the car, then looked inside again. The driver was still out cold, leaning toward the right, that was good. She was farther away from the door.

With one swing, he shattered the window. Luckily, it broke into a sheet of tiny cubes and he was able to break it away from the frame. Pieces of glass fell into the water and others dropped into the car. As he worked, sweat rolled down his face despite the relentless wind.

“It’s done,” he said.

“Check and see if she has a pulse.”

He brushed her long hair aside and felt the smooth skin of her neck. A faint rhythm beat against his fingers and he let out a long breath. “Yes, she’s alive.”

“No help yet?”

“No, and the wind is not helping. The car is not stable.”

“Can you get her out?”

Chance took another deep breath. “I’ll try.”

“Just be sure to brace her neck.”

After making sure there were no jagged glass edges left in the window frame, he reached in, stuck his hand in the water and felt for her seat belt. It made a swishing sound as it slid back into its holder. With a grunt, he grasped her under her armpits and tugged, maneuvering carefully to pull her through the window. The buoyancy of the water helped. At one point the car swayed, and he held his breath.

Finally clear, Chance braced her head on his chest and dragged her away, leaving a wet trail in the mud.

He gently laid her on the grass. While supporting her neck, he managed to struggle out of his wet shirt and stuff it under her head. Then he hurried back for his phone.

“What’s happening? Can you hear me?” he heard the dispatcher calling.

“I have her out on the creek bank.” He knelt beside the unconscious woman. “She has a slight gash on her forehead.”

“Is she bleeding?”

“Not much.” He glanced toward the sky and saw the dark thunderclouds gaining force. “Where in the hell is that ambulance? It’s fixing to rain.”

“Stay calm.”

“Listen, this woman needs to get out of the weather.”

“Check her arms and legs to see if anything is broken.”

He ran his hands over her limbs. “Doesn’t seem to be and I can’t see any more blood.” He made a quick decision. “I’ll take her to the Southern Cross ranch a mile down the road. Route the ambulance there.”

“They’re about ten minutes away.”

Raindrops fell on his hand. “We don’t have ten minutes.”

“Okay. Just be careful with her neck.”

“I will.” Losing no time, Chance shoved his phone into his back pocket again and gingerly scooped her into his arms, making sure her head was braced against his shoulder. As he started toward his truck, he heard a swooshing sound and turned to see the car submerged in the water, with only the roof showing.

Staggering in his wet boots and jeans, he climbed onto the road and hurried to the vehicle. After depositing her on the passenger side, he repositioned his shirt beneath her head, then tilted the seat back. Blood covered her forehead, but the gash had stopped bleeding. Her skin was pasty white and her hair seemed to be everywhere.

He fished his phone out of his pocket. “Thanks for your help. We’re on the way to Southern Cross.”

“The woman was lucky to have you around. Good luck. The ambulance should be there shortly.”

As soon as he clicked off, the cell buzzed again. It was Walker, the constable. Finally.

“Hey, Chance. I’ve been at the courthouse in Giddings and I just got the news about the wreck. How’s the driver?”

Chance glanced at her. “She’s still out and I’m taking her to Southern Cross. The volunteer fire department sure didn’t help.”

“Henry couldn’t get the truck started. It’s time the community did something about that or we’re going to have a major fire and the whole town is going to suffer.”

“Yeah.” Chance snapped the woman’s seat belt into place and ran around the truck, his boots sloshing. He crawled into the driver’s seat, still talking to Walker. “Maybe this will encourage everyone in High Cotton to get behind the project.”

“We can only hope. I’m on my way.”

Within minutes Chance rolled into the driveway of the ranch. He called Renee, Judd’s mother, to announce his arrival with a casualty.

Renee opened the door at once. “Oh, good heavens, come in,” she said as he carried the patient up the steps. Thunder rumbled in warning and heavy rain began to fall. He’d made it just in time.

“My boots and jeans are wet and muddy, Renee,” Chance said apologetically.

“Not a problem! I can clean up a little mud,” she said.

Chance wiped his boots on the mat as best he could, then carried his load inside. Renee spread sheets on the sofa in the den and he gingerly laid the unconscious woman on them.

“What happened?” Renee asked, glancing from one bedraggled figure to the other.

“She ran off the road into Crooked Creek and I had to pull her out. I’ve already called 911 and Walker.”