Turning on my signal, I pull off on the side of the road, parking behind her. She’s wearing what looks like a nursing uniform and her hair is soaked. Reaching in the glove box, I grab two ponchos I keep on hand; you never know when Mother Nature is going to decide to open the floodgates. Working in construction, my supply has come in handy more times than I can count.
Tearing open one package, I slip the poncho over my head. Gripping the one I grabbed for her, I climb out of the truck. She’s watching me, her arms crossed over her chest. I see her car keys sticking out between her fingers as if she’s prepared to use them against me. Smart girl.
“Hi,” I yell over the rain. “Looks like you could use some help.” I hand her the poncho.
She hesitates, but the rain picks up and she relents, slowly reaching out to take the offering. I watch as she quickly unfolds the poncho and slips it over her head.
“I’m Ridge.” I point back to my truck marked with the Beckett Construction logo. “Just left the job site and saw you looked like you could use some help. Do you have a spare?” I ask.
She still looks hesitant; again, I think she’s being smart.
“I’m going to reach into my pocket and grab my wallet,” I warn her. Slowly, I reach around to my back pocket and pull it out. Opening it, I pull out a business card that has my full name and contact information and hand it to her.
The rain continues to beat down, and I will her to decide if she’s going to trust me so we can get this show on the road. I’m already late and can hear Stephanie whining already.
She studies the card, and then ever so slowly lifts her head and smiles warmly. Holding her hand out, she introduces herself. “Dawn Miller. Thank you for stopping. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I got this.” I wink at her. Even drenched, she’s beautiful, with big blue eyes and long blonde hair. “Pop the trunk and get inside the car. There’s no need for both of us standing out here getting wet.”
She waves off my concern. “I’m not going to melt. I couldn’t sit in the car while you were out here, I’d feel guilty. I really do appreciate this, more than you know.”
She pops the trunk and I make quick work of releasing the spare tire and jack. Just as I get the jack set, the rain lets up. I busy myself with taking off the flat tire and quickly replacing it with the donut version. “You’re going to have to get this taken care of. I hope you don’t have far to go. It’s not safe on these wet roads to be driving on this thing.” I point to the smaller tire.
“Not far. I’ll get it taken care of tomorrow,” she promises.
After making sure the lug nuts are tight, I place the flat and tools back in the trunk. “You’re all set,” I tell her, closing the trunk lid.
“Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing, just drive safe. It was nice to meet you, Dawn.” I offer her my hand.
She slides hers against mine and we shake. “It was nice meeting you too, Ridge. Thank you again, so very much.”
With a nod, I release her hand and jog back to my truck. I watch as she settles back behind the wheel and drives off. Grabbing my phone, I send a quick text to Steph.
Me: Running late, been one hell of a day.
Stephanie: Seriously, Ridge? You promised.
Me: Couldn’t be helped. I’ll be there soon.
I toss my phone in the cup holder and pull back out on the road. Mother Nature decides she’s not through torturing me today, as the rain once again unleashes. Huge, heavy drops hit the windshield and I have to slow to a creep, the visibility pretty much non-existent. I hope Dawn makes it to where she’s going.
A gust of wind hits the truck and I have to fight to keep it on the road. This storm just popped up out of nowhere. Readjusting my position, I grip the wheel and lean forward, keeping my eyes glued to the road. My phone alerts me to a new message, but it’s just going to have to wait. My gut tells me it’s Stephanie wanting to give me a hard time about being late. If that were Stephanie or my sister Reagan on the side of the road, I would want a decent guy like myself to stop and help them. There are a hell of a lot of creepers out there, and it’s just not safe. She’ll get over it, and if not . . . Oh well.
Eyes glued to the road, I stare hard, making sure I don’t hit stray tree branches—hell, even another car, for that matter. There’s debris all over the road, so I slow down, knowing the Jacksons’ curves are just up ahead. Old Man Jackson lives right in the middle of a hellish set of curves, and I’ve seen more accidents on this stretch of road than I care to count.
Just as I creep around the first set, I see lights. Lights that are coming from the other side of the small embankment. Fuck! That’s not a good sign. Today is just not going my way.
I pull my truck over to the side of the road. Reaching into the glove compartment, I pull out a flashlight. I’m still wearing my poncho, not taking the time to remove it knowing Stephanie was already going to be pissed. Not knowing what I’m going to find on the other side of the embankment, I grab my phone and shove it into my pocket.
As soon as I open the door, the wind blasts me and almost knocks me over. I fight against the gusts to slam the door shut, then turn on the flashlight and check both ways before sprinting across the road. It’s dangerous as hell, but my gut tells me that time is of the essence in this situation. I send up a silent prayer that I’m wrong.
What I find has me sprinting into action. A small SUV is turned on its side. Starting down the muddy embankment, I lose my footing. Slipping and sliding, I struggle to find my balance. I finally reach the front of the vehicle, but the headlights are blinding, making it impossible to see if anyone’s still inside. I’m mindful not to lean on the car, not willing to take the chance of causing it to tip and roll further down the hill. It’s too dark to assess the situation and the rain is still coming down in sheets. Better safe than sorry.
Very carefully, I make it to the driver’s-side door. I shine the light through the window and can see a woman lying on her side. Her eyes are closed. Shit! I know enough that I shouldn’t try to move her. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone and dial for help. It takes me three tries, as my hands are trembling and wet from the rain.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“There’s been an accident,” I scream over the pounding rain. “I’m just off Anderson Drive, in Jackson’s curves.”
“Sir, are you hurt?”
“No, not me. I saw headlights, so I stopped. There’s a woman trapped.” I know I’m probably not making any sense, but my head is too jumbled. I need to help her.
“Stay with her, help is on the way. I have a team en route, less than five minutes out.”
“What can I do?” I plead with her.
I’m crushing the phone to my ear so I can hear her. The rain makes it an almost impossible feat. “Just hold tight, help is on the way. Do not try to move her unless you feel she’s in grave danger,” she yells over the line, cool as a fucking cucumber. I guess that’s why she’s in that position.
After what I’m sure is the longest five minutes of my entire life, I hear the sirens. “They’re here,” I tell the operator.