As Branna drove east bound on Highway 90 and approached the turn-off for the college, the roar of a small jet buzzed in her ears like the whir of a blender. She made a right on red as the plane’s continued drone hit her last nerve. The noise grew louder and louder. Whenever she traveled the road to and from the college, planes racing down the runway—taking off or landing—made her flinch. The short distance between the end of the runway and the road was too short for comfort.
Barely able to think over the noise, she glanced to the right just in time to see a small plane bump off the runway.
It headed straight for the road.
Her car.
She slammed on the brakes. Braced her grip on the steering wheel. Where to go? Not to the right—into the plane. Trees loomed on the left. Stomping her foot harder on the brakes, she covered her face with her hands.
Whamp
!
A tree stopped the car. The impact jerked her forward hard. She struggled for breath as force flung her backward in her seat. Her neck burned against the seatbelt. The windshield cracked, splintering into a spider’s web that looked like a mosaic. The tip of the plane’s wing protruded inside her car on the passenger’s side.
She gasped for a full breath and panted. Her chest hurt. Head throbbed. Stunned, she couldn’t move.
A buzzing grew louder. The plane’s engine still rattled, along with sirens and clanging bells. An acid taste clotted at the back of her throat. Her hand trembled as she tried to unbuckle the seatbelt. A blur of black popped down on the hood of her car, jumped to the ground, and raced away into the woods. She blinked. Her eyes refocused, but the throb in head made her squint.
“Over here!” a voice shouted next to her car.
She looked in the direction of the shout. A man yanked on her door. Two more men appeared.
“Unlock the door! Unlock the door!”
Hot tears slid down her cheeks. Twisting slowly, she tried to open the door. Before managing the orders, a crash exploded behind her. She jerked against her seatbelt. Wrapping her hands around the back of her head, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel as a man bashed out the window of her Volvo.
Beside her, the door opened. Someone fumbled with the seatbelt. Two men reached for her. Gingerly they helped her out of the car and to her feet. When she turned to look at her Volvo, she crumbled. Strong arms on either side of her carried her away from the crash and set her down on the ground.
“Branna!”
She couldn’t see him, but heard James’ voice.
“Where is she?” he shouted.
“Over there,” someone shouted back. “Ambulance is on the way.”
Detached, she observed the activity before her as though watching a play. More men appeared on the scene. Men in black jackets, a few with guns drawn. They headed into the woods. Overhead, a helicopter
thwarped
through the air, hovering above treetops.
Had someone forgotten to tell her about filming of a new
Bond
movie? She laid back and covered her eyes with her hands to block out the sunlight. Her body ached. Her head hurt. Her neck burned.
She would definitely be late for class.
Chapter 24
“Branna, can you hear me?” James called. Screams from the ambulance’s siren split the air as the large vehicle turned off Highway 90. Kneeling beside her, he checked the left side of her neck for a pulse. The seatbelt had rubbed a burn the other side. Her stillness frightened him. When he put his other hand on her chest, trying to determine whether she was breathing, she swatted his hand away. Relief hit him squarely in the gut, but then he saw blood in her hair.
“Hang on, Baby. Help’s coming.
He leaped to his feet when the ambulance stopped behind her car.
“Over here!” He waved both hands to attract the emergency crews’ attention over the fire truck’s blaring sirens and flashing lights. When the driver waved back, he knelt again beside her.
“Miss Lind, I know you’re
not
the type to give up. The EMS guys are here to help you.”
He rose and stepped back as men with equipment packs rushed toward Branna. He went to her Volvo and gathered her purse and other personal items. Her vehicle was DOI—dead on impact. Given her professed fondness for the car—the sight of it would be a big blow. The insurance company would surely total it—shattered windshield, crunched front end, and engine fluids making a puddle on the ground. Luck had protected her. She barely missed being DOI, too.
His heart pounded triple time, so hard it hurt. What would he do if he’d lost her? She wasn’t what he expected, and everything about her drew him to her. He’d dreamed of feeling her nakedness again, but had put up his usual barriers, not only because she was a colleague, but because she was attractive, and he’d corralled his heart against beauty since Caroline. Branna Lind challenged him in every way possible when it came to a male/female relationship. He’d stubbornly married old notions and hadn’t realized it. Until now.
There was more between him and Branna than he’d been willing to admit.
He wouldn’t lose her.
Standing discreetly out of the way to allow the emergency crew to do their thing, he moved close enough to reach for Branna’s hand. He squeezed it gently. Her eyes remained closed, yet she squeezed back. He was certain she knew it was him.
“Branna, I have your purse and things out of your car,” he told her.
“My poor car,” she said, though her eyes never opened. “It didn’t deserve this.”
“Miss, we’re going to move you now.” The EMS guys carried the gurney until they reached the road, then dropped the legs on the table and rolled Branna to the ambulance.
“Miss?” A uniformed police officer stood next to the gurney.
“Her name is Branna Lind,” James told him, but what he wanted to say, “I’m here because we’re close. We’re lovers.”
“I’ll follow you to the hospital. I need to ask you some questions,” the officer said.
Branna nodded slightly, but James wondered if she really understood.
“Branna, I’ll follow you there, too,” he told her before the ambulance doors closed.
He ran to his car. Trying to maintain the speed limit as the ambulance raced ahead, he considered the enigmatic Miss Lind. While bright—truly book smart—and dedicated to her new job with zealous enthusiasm, she possessed an air of innocence, too. She’d lived a sheltered life, it seemed to him, to remain a role model for others. Family name and reputation signified a way of life to her. She couldn’t separate one from the other.
At first, it was hard to believe that she’d never been to a roadside bar before, but from her reactions, it had to be true. At the time he hadn’t believed her, but after careful consideration, he’d decided she’d never been drunk before either. She trusted him. Otherwise, though she wanted “carefree” and “adventure,” her ingrained manners and values wouldn’t have allowed her to untether from the rules she lived by.
He ran through a yellow light to keep the ambulance in sight. “Let her be all right,” he prayed.
She’d made love to him openly and freely. That had to be a sign of her faith in him. A belief that he wouldn’t take advantage. Could it be a sign of more? Hope rose in his chest.
Miss Branna Lind had gotten under his skin. The first time they met, she’d snubbed him, a dirty redneck farmer. However, the second time...during the storm, they connected in a weird intimate way. Any sane person would think him crazy. Later, when she’d danced with him at the faculty party—without knowing whom or what he was—she’d delighted him. Her unabashed laughter made him feel lighter—happy even. An emotion he never considered owning. The tinkling sound of her giggles—purely feminine.
When she gazed at him with a sparkling glint in her eyes, he wanted to be worthy of her esteem. She made him feel strong and bold. She made him laugh. And, her willingness to work at dance steps she didn’t know rather than shying away made her adventurous and appealing.
Ahead, he watched the ambulance turn right. He followed the flashing lights when he reached the intersection.
So what did it matter that she kept a car from another man?
Who was he kidding? It mattered.
The car represented a tie. A link. Maybe even a commitment. But she denied it. Why? And it mattered that she could be swayed by material things.
Would she, too, manipulate him like Caroline had?
Maybe.
“She’s not Caroline!”
He’d risk it for a chance with Branna.
She had to heal, make a full recovery.
He couldn’t lose the first woman he’d loved in years.
Chapter 25
“Looks like I need a ride after all, Dr. Newbern.” Branna offered James a sheepish grin when the nurse finally allowed him to enter the hospital’s examining room. She touched the small butterfly bandage at her hairline on the left side of her head. “They’re letting me out of this place with a mild concussion.”
“My car’s out front. Wouldn’t want you to take a taxi.”
“I’m not the taxi-type,” she chuckled.
James frowned.
“Don’t you think that’s funny? If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.” Her head pounded, but if she didn’t stay on the light side of things, she’d break down in front of him. She had enough pain to produce enough tears to fill a wash bucket. Not a pretty sight under the best of circumstances, and these were anything but.
She laced her fingers together in a tight clench. She itched to call Momma, who would fuss over her and take care of her every need. Maybe even call her brother and order him to fly her home to Fleur de Lis. Never before had she understood the privileges bestowed upon her because she was the next Keeper. Selfishly, she had viewed it as a sacrifice, a mantle yoked around her neck. Why had she never understood that she could pick up the phone and call
anyone
in her family, and they would move heaven and earth to make sure she was safe and cared for.
Thankfully, James had her cell phone. That prevented her from allowing her resolve to melt like ice on hot asphalt. She could stand on her own.
“I guess making jokes is a good thing. A smile is nice. I’ll try to think of a few knock-knock jokes while I drive you home.” The scowl he wore suggested her humor should wait for a more appropriate time.
On the short drive from the hospital to her house, she clutched the door handle in James’ car with one hand and held the seatbelt away from her neck with her other. Though the bandaged burn on her neck was on the left side, the idea of a seatbelt against her skin made her faint.
Lightheaded, she blinked to bring the world into clearer focus. Tears pooled, her vision blurred, but she refused to give into weakness and vulnerability. Much had happened in a short time, processing reality required focus she could barely muster. However, one thought made a continuous loop through her mind.
She could have died today.
The fact that she survived made her grateful for each breath she took. Her heart ached because of all the worry she’d caused her family. And, beyond all else, she had to make things right with her sister. She had the power to change the relationship with Camilla, maybe even convince her to come home.
Tucking the seatbelt under her arm, she wiped her eyes, then quickly grabbed the strap again. The feel of it against her body produced a newfound panic.
“Is there someone I can call for you?” James asked in a calm low voice. The tone of voice a man might use when he was scared a woman might fall apart. “Your parents? Sister? Someone?”
“No...no one. The closest family in distance to me is my brother. He’s in college down in Gainesville. I can manage this on my own. I expect to be good as new in a few days.”
“Guess brothers aren’t much help, are they?”
“For some things, but not this.”
“I’ll be happy to call your parents. I think someone needs to stay with you.”
“No. No, thank you. Really, I can manage.” How could she explain that she had to do this on her own? Since she wasn’t dying, this was a chance to prove she was capable and strong. She fell apart when Steven betrayed her—she wouldn’t do that today. Though, her inner child was wailing for her momma.
James’ car approached her house. She couldn’t wait to get inside to rest. Squinting, she shielded her eyes from the evening sun’s rays that lit the sky. Above the treetops, pink, silver, lavender, and gold reflected off the clouds. A beautiful, yet ordinary day. Her day had been anything but. Obviously, she had not one drop of clairvoyance in her body. If she’d had any inkling about the twists and turns that faced her, would she have bothered to get out bed that morning? Everyone gets to be an ostrich and hide their head in the sand sometimes, right?
The painter’s truck parked at the curb had the windows rolled down and the radio cranked with the base booming, rattling glass. The vibration beat in her head as though the pounding originated there. She winced. Nausea hit hard. Bill ran up when James opened the car door for her.
“Miss Lind! Are you okay?”
“Yes, but, would you turn your radio down?”
“Oh, sure!” Bill said, and then disappeared.
“Take it slow,” James cautioned as she stepped back to close the car door. “Where are your keys? I’ll get the front door unlocked.”
Bill returned and danced around her like a nervous puppy. “Did you hear? It’s on the news! The accident. You’re a hero—well, not a guy hero, but a girl hero.”
“What?” She leaned on James for support as she dug in her purse and pulled out her keys.