Behind him, the truck door opened. He knew Shay—she’d want to help the woman. At this point, for all Caleb knew, the woman had brought her husband out here and killed him, and was still armed with the weapon. Crazier things had happened. He wasn’t letting Shay near her.
He held out his hand to Shay. “Not yet, Shay,” he ordered.
“Caleb—” she started to object.
“Not until I know exactly what’s going on,” he said, without taking his eyes off the woman. He knelt beside her. “What happened to your husband?”
She sobbed. “He…”
Caleb touched her arm. “What happened?”
She inhaled and let it out. “He was changing the tire, and he just fell over.” Her face crumbled. “He died.” The last word was a shriek.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Caleb was on his feet, tossing his keys to the dirt in front of Shay, so they wouldn’t accidentally hit her. “Drive ahead to the office and call 911 on the landline,” he yelled. “There should be someone there, but if not, the red key is the one you’ll need to get in.”
She grabbed them up and started running to the driver’s side of the truck. He faced the crying woman. “Keep trying 911,” he ordered. She kept crying. More forcefully he yelled, “Dial the phone if you want to save your husband.”
He didn’t wait to see if she would reply. Seconds counted with a heart-attack victim, which was what he was betting this was. Caleb took off running toward the couple’s car, dialing his phone at the same time, hoping his service would come through. It didn’t. Damn. He rounded the car and just as the woman had said, her husband—as he assumed the man to be—lay on his back, by the tire he had been trying to change.
As a trained medic, Caleb’s instincts kicked in and he went to work on the man. The man’s wife appeared above him, whimpering and screaming erratically, but he tuned her out and focused on the life he was trying to save. Finally, finally, he found a light pulse and leaned back, hands on his pants.
Damn it, he needed an ambulance. He could only do so much, and he worried about brain damage. The guy had been without a pulse too long. He was contemplating driving the man to the hospital when sirens sounded in the distance.
“Good girl, Shay,” he whispered, not at all surprised she’d come through.
Caleb pushed to his feet and ran toward the sound, to flag the ambulance and update the crew, when his cell phone rang on his belt. Of course. Now the tower worked. He snatched it up without looking at caller ID. “Stay where you are, Shay,” he said. “I’ll come to you.”
“Shay?” Kent said. “What the heck is Shay doing with you at the crack of dawn?”
Caleb opened his mouth to say “Jumping out of a plane at sunrise,” but it was too little, too late—the line was dead.
“Damn!” he said, punching the air. What was Kent doing calling him at this time of the morning? The ambulance screeched to a halt, and Caleb rushed to meet it. He had a life-or-death emergency to deal with before he took a beating from either Kent or Shay—or maybe both.
***
BY 9:00 A.M., SHAY HAD MET members of the San Marcus police, the fire department and the EMS crew, as well as both of Caleb’s partners, Bobby and Ryan, and Ryan’s new wife, Sabrina. To say her morning had been crazy was an understatement, and thanks to Sabrina, she now sat in the break area of the Hotzone, with the blissful high of freshly brewed coffee and a glazed donut.
“I can’t believe Caleb took divers out to jump after everything that happened,” Shay said, sipping her coffee.
Sabrina reached for a donut. Her third. Shay felt a hint of fan-girl admiration for the other woman, who could not only chow down on sweets and look slim and trim, but also wrote a syndicated political column that Shay admired.
“The Aces don’t rattle easily,” Sabrina said. “They were in a war zone most of the last decade. And though they can’t talk about most of their missions, I know they were in dangerous territory, pretty much daily. What seems traumatic to us—” she raised her cup “—it’s just spilled coffee to them.”
Shay considered that statement. Caleb still felt like Caleb, but how could he be unchanged after living ten years under such intense pressure?
Sabrina continued, “They’re cool under pressure, and it makes the customers feel comfortable. Heck, I was terrified to jump at first, but I jump now.”
“Really?” Shay asked. “I’m not so keen on the idea.”
“I’m still not a big fan of jumping, unlike Jennifer, who’s an addict. But Ryan sweet-talks me past my nerves every now and then. So you’ve never jumped?”
“No,” Shay said quickly. “And I don’t plan on it, either. I’m taking flying lessons, though, and I’m enjoying it. I can deal with being in the driver’s seat where I’m in control. The idea of jumping out of a plane and not being sure the chute will open…no, thank you.”
Sabrina’s eyes lit. “That’s exactly how I feel.” She sipped her coffee. “Flying lessons, huh? That sounds intriguing. Where do you do something like that?”
“A small airfield in Round Rock,” she replied, and then without hesitation—Sabrina felt like one of those rare instant friends—she added, “You should come out and give it a whirl.” There was a pad and paper on the table, and Shay wrote down her number. “Call me and we’ll set it up.”
“I might just do that,” she said. “In fact, I probably will.” She looked thoughtful. “I wish Jennifer was here to meet you. She’s a vet and has a Sunday clinic. Although, you may be happy she’s not here. She’s always trying to fix Caleb up, afraid he feels out of place as the only single guy in the mix. I keep telling her she can’t just marry him off. Oh, man. You better beware. She’ll be planning your wedding before you know it. This may be worse than her attempts at blind dates on his behalf.”
Wedding. Shay gulped. Her and Caleb? “Oh, no,” Shay said, sitting up straighter. “We’re not… I mean…” Her shoulders slumped. “It’s complicated.”
Sabrina set her elbows on the table. “Isn’t it always?”
“My family raised him after his parents died,” she said. “I’m sort of like, well, his sister.”
“Oh,” Sabrina said, her cheeks flushing. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were…seeing each other. I mean when I saw you together, there was a connection. I guess I misread it.”
“You didn’t,” Shay said, hands wrapping around the coffee cup, her lashes lowering before lifting. “We’ve always battled an attraction. Now that he’s home…we’re trying to figure it out. But he and Kent, my brother, are close and—”
“Kent’s your brother?”
Shay frowned. “Yes. You know him?”
“No,” she said. “But he called three times this morning while I was answering the phone, trying to reach Caleb.”