Crashing Into Tess (2 page)

2
“Rescue Me”

Motionless in the neck cuff and head stabilizer, Tess
watched the lights on the ceiling blink as the ambulance
bumped along the highway.
Mom and Dad are really going
to freak if they find out about this one.

After the CAT scan, she waited on a stretcher in a busy
emergency room, an ice pack under her neck, another
against her head. The nurse bustled over. “Good news,
Tess. Your scans check out fine, nothing broken, no internal
bleeding. Doc wants to put sutures in your head, so I’ll just
shave a little around the cut, okay? Don’t worry about how
it will look, Hon. You’ll be able to flip your hair over, to
cover the scar.”

“Uh-huh, I’ve got plenty of hair,” Tess volunteered
weakly.
“That’s the spirit.”
As the electric razor buzzed, she closed her eyes,
taking deep breaths, waiting for the pain medication to take
effect. The nurse patted her arm. “Doc will be here any
minute.”
“Okay.”
She floated in and out of a haze, drowsy with pain and
fatigue. Then she looked up, and a doctor was peering
down at her. Tall and bald, he had kind eyes and a silver
mustache. “I’m Doc Verwey. Tests are clear. How’s your
pain, Tess?”
“Still pretty intense.”
“Headache?”
“Sharp and throbbing. My neck hurts, too.”
“It’s going to be tender and bruised for awhile yet,” he
said, probing gently. “I’ve diagnosed you with neck strain
and head injury, whiplash in common terms. You have a
concussion. You’re going to be sore for a few days at least.
Once I’ve sutured your head, we can let you go, but you’d
better take it extra easy for awhile.”
“I start a new job on Monday.”
“Oh really? Well, you should plan to rest all next week,
and follow up with a family doc. Your employer will have
to be sympathetic. This is going to sting, now.” He injected
lidocaine near the cut. “What are you doing for work?”
“I’m a vet. I finished school in June, and came out west
to join Doc Harnes’ practice in Green Junction. This is my
first real job.”
“A rural vet, serving ranchers? That’s hard work, young
lady. Very physically demanding.” Tess felt pressure as he
tugged the sides of her cut together with sutures. “What led
you down this path?”
“I’ve spent my whole life fascinated by anything with
four legs.”
“Where did you study?”
“University of Pennsylvania. I worked with the large
animal surgical team at New Bolton as a resident this past
summer, and left Philadelphia on Tuesday morning.”
“That must have been an adventure, driving crosscountry and all.”
“It ended with a real bang.”
The doctor chuckled. “Well, you haven’t lost your sense
of humor, anyway. You’ll need that the next few days.
Here’s a prescription for pain reliever. Good Luck, Tess.”
A busty young orderly helped her into a wheelchair,
pushing her out into the dingy waiting room. Increasingly
ill at ease, Tess glanced over the orange plastic chairs, the
torn linoleum.
What if Jake’s not here?
A stringy-haired, skinny woman in a fuzzy bathrobe
and slippers sat next to a huge man in a Harley jacket. She
glanced at Tess, and looked away.
In the far corner, a lone figure stretched out in a chair in
front of a dark window, cowboy hat tipped over his face.
Muscular arms, cloaked in a faded cotton duck jacket,
crossed his broad, flannel-shirted chest.
Nervously, she glanced over the man’s long, denim clad
thighs, the expensive-looking brown boots on his feet.
“S’that him?” the orderly asked, snapping her gum.
“I’m not sure.” Tess stood up. She felt dizzy, her hip
pinched with pain. She bit her lower lip and sat back down.
This is super awkward. Crying now would be lame, so just
keep it together.
The man shifted in his seat, pushed his hat back, and
looked at her sideways. He had high cheekbones and a
narrow jaw, rough with almost-beard.“Tess?”
“Hi, Jake,” she answered, relieved.
Red-faced under his tan, he came towards the
wheelchair, appraising her with an anxious smile. “You
okay? You look better.”
“The CAT scan is clear. I have a concussion and
whiplash,” she told him.
Jake looked younger than she remembered, less sure of
himself. He held his hat in his hand, his contrite eyes liquid
brown. “I feel real bad about the accident. Sorry I wasn’t
able to avoid you.”
She shrugged. “I lost control of the car. The tires are
probably junk.”
His eyes flashed regret. “It’s a hell of a welcome to
town for you, though.”
“I came for an adventure, but this wasn’t quite what I
bargained for.”
“I guess not,” he winced.
“Look, you made me come to the hospital. And you’re
here now, Jake. I appreciate that.”
A slow, friendly smile spread across his face. Tapping
her knee, he said, “I’ll bring the truck around.”
Tess checked Jake out as he strode out the door.
If I
had to drop into a tailspin and land in Oz, at least the Lone
Ranger came to rescue me. A Lone Ranger with a really,
really cute butt
.
A big green truck with a single headlight appeared at
the curb, its engine humming loudly. The sky was still dark,
but she could see Rhiannon leaping around the cab,
wagging her whole body.
Snapping her gum, the orderly jerked the wheelchair
through the door. Holding her ice packs in place, Tess stood
up, catching her breath at the pain in her head and hip.
Jake was just coming around the hood of the truck.
“Hey, I was on my way in for you,” he said, grabbing
the slipping ice packs, opening the truck’s passenger door.
He held her elbow as she climbed into the high bucket seat.
Excited, the retriever licked her face. Tess swiped dog spit
from her cheek. “Ugh, hi, Rhiannon.”
Jake laid an ice pack at her neck, then helped with her
seatbelt, his sturdy hand over hers. “All set?” he asked,
searching her eyes. In the dark, the bulk of his square
shoulders was distracting.
“I’m okay,” she smiled. Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon”
played softly from the CD player. His truck was new, the
heated bucket seat cozy and warm. It smelled of leather and
tobacco. She settled back as Jake slid into the driver’s seat,
slamming his door. As he pulled onto the highway, she
said, “Thanks again for coming for me.”
“I just wish an air bag had gone off. I feel real bad
about the accident. Where am I taking you?”
“349 East Chambers Street, in Green Junction. Do you
know where that is?” she asked anxiously, sliding her
fingertips to her hip pocket, feeling for the key.
“Sure, the old Sherman place.”
“
What’s it like?”
“The house? It’s a big white Victorian, built before the
turn of the century by a man named Carson Sherman.
Green Junction is a rail transfer hub for wheat and cattle,
and the Sherman family operated the rail yard.”
She liked the friendly twang in his voice.
He sounds
like a cowboy
. He continued, “The last surviving Sherman
sold the old house to Elmer Freethy about ten years ago,
and he cut it up into rental apartments. There’s a yard in
front, lots of windows. Plenty of room, but it’ll be drafty
come winter. The neighborhood is quiet and safe. My
daughter and her mom live right around the block.”
Tess ran her hand down her dog’s back. “I hope the
landlord won’t have a problem with Rhiannon. I picked her
up on the highway, in eastern Missouri. She’s come this
whole way with me.”
“Rhiannon put up a fuss when the ambulance pulled
away, didn’t you girl?” he asked, scratching between the
dog’s ears. “She’s real attached to you already. Elmer
probably won’t mind Rhiannon, if nobody complains. Run
it by the other tenants in the building first. Where are you
working?”
“At the vet clinic. With Doc Harnes.”
Jake’s brow wrinkled. “Last I heard Doc was going to
sell the practice, and retire to Florida.”
Her chest pinched. “Nobody said anything about that.
I’ve been counting on this job, at least until spring. Doc’s
wife Bea found my apartment and Alice, the woman who
works there, helped me with everything else over the
phone.”
“Alice is a friend of mine. She works days at the clinic,
and helps her husband Lotts out with their bar downtown.
Maybe I heard wrong. If Doc brought you on board, he’ll
likely be around for awhile yet. He’s a good man, and a
great vet. Where’d you come from?”
“Pennsylvania.”
He glanced over at her skeptically. “Girl, you’ve come
a long way for a job in a vet’s office.”
.
He doesn’t know I’m a vet, yet. But if things work out,
I’ll see him on ranch calls.
Stroking Rhiannon’s pale silky
coat, she let Neil Young and the hum of the diesel engine
distract her from a throbbing headache and worries about
her new job.
The barest glimmer of eastern light was just visible
above the jagged mountaintops when Jake took the Green
Junction highway exit, carefully navigating the tight curve.
Ugh.
She saw a ribbon of black rubber tread marks as
they approached the stop sign, criss crossing the road. “It’s
where we met,” she blurted.
Clearing his throat, Jake tapped his fingers on the
steering wheel. “Are you always this funny, or does it have
to do with the head injury you sustained last night?”
Quirking her lips in a half-smile, she raised an
eyebrow. “What head injury?” Jake grinned back, flashing
teeth that were even, and very white.
Rosy morning light shone on a fresh row of well-kept
brick Victorians, with fancy gingerbread porches as the
truck crossed the intersection, starting down a residential
street. At the next intersection, he paused. “Tess, the body
shop doesn’t open until seven. I know you need your stuff,
but the tow lot’s still locked. It’ll be another hour at least.”
As his voice trailed off, she heard the nervous staccato
of his fingers on the steering wheel. He turned to her. “You
want breakfast? The diner’s open.”

*****

Two blocks from the diner, Ron Karachek heard tires
crunching gravel outside the Green Junction Police Station.
Hastily, he tucked the auto accident report into a folder,
stuck it in the filing cabinet and poured a cup of fresh
coffee.

The back door swung open, and Sergeant Fuller came
in, fifteen minutes early for the morning shift. When Ron
set the mug on his boss’s cheap brown Formica desk, the
Sergeant said, “So Jake McGreer hit a girl out near the
interstate last night, huh?”

“Yup,” Ron said, trying to hide his smile. “On his way
home from the pool tournament, just after midnight. Musta
been tipsy.”

Fuller’s brow furrowed as he shuffled papers on his
desk. “Tipsy, you say? That’s not like Jake, especially with
all the nonsense over his daughter. He’s a careful guy, with
a lot to lose. You’re sure about this?”

“I’ve got the printout from the breath-lyzer right in the
file, next to the report. Says .038, darn close to the legal
limit. He shouldn’ta been at the wheel of his truck,” Ron
gloated. Sergeant Fuller eyes met Ron’s dead on. “It’s all in
the report,” Ron insisted.

Fuller set his jaw. “I better double check the calibration
on the darn thing. How’s the girl?”

“She blacked out, guess you heard that on the scanner
last night. Has a Pennsylvania driver’s license, but she was
in a rental car. Ethel and the crew got her to Salida for a
CAT scan. Seemed like Jake was going to bring her back,
when they finished with her at the hospital. Don’t think she
has any family ‘round here.”

Looking over his ledger, Fuller picked up his phone.
“I’ll do some digging, find out how she made out.”
Ron shuffled into the hallway to clock out.
Sergeant Fuller raised his voice, to make sure Ron
heard him. “And I’ll ask Alice what Jake was drinking, last
night.”
“You do that,” Ron called, nodding to his boss as he
headed to the locker room to change for his day job.

******

Tess sopped a last bit of egg
with her whole wheat
toast, flashing Jake a flirty little smile. He blushed and slid
his hat on his head, looking away.
Judging by the way
people here are checking us out, he hasn’t been seen
around town since his divorce.

All through breakfast, he’d glanced her over worriedly,
asking if she was okay, assuring he’d help her get settled.
She hadn’t mentioned her parents were attorneys. The
waitress took their plates, refilled Jake’s coffee and laid a
check on the table. Tess snapped it up. “I got it,” Jake
insisted, grabbing for his wallet. “C’mon, Tess, you’re hurt.
Let me get breakfast.”

“No way!” She dug out her credit card out and slapped
it on the bill. “You spent all night taking care of me, and
now I’ve guilt-tripped you into helping me with my
errands. The least I can do is buy your bacon and eggs.”

Jake raised an eyebrow in disapproval as the waitress
scooped the check up. His tanned face crinkled around his
eyes. “Well, then, Nancy gets a real good tip.” He laid a ten
on the table.“You want to order something for later, since
you won’t have anything to cook with?”

“Very thoughtful of you,” she smiled. “After we check
out my apartment, I plan to hit the Goodwill. I hope to have
pots and pans and dishes by lunchtime.”

Amused, Jake slurped his coffee. “There’s no Goodwill
in town, but we do have a thrift store on Third Street, pulls
from all five churches. It’s too far to walk, in your
condition, and with any luck, you’ll have a load to haul
back to your place. I’ll take you there after groceries.”

“Thanks!”

Standing, she grabbed her blood stained hoodie from
the hook at the top of the booth. He stood up to help with
her sleeves, the rough stubble of his cheeks close. She
smelled leather and soap. Her brow crinkled. “I really
shouldn’t tie up your whole morning. Should I call a cab, or
something?”

His face burst into a grin. “A cab, in this town? Fat
chance, Tess, there’s not a taxi service outside of Denver.”
His grin widened as he pushed the diner door open for her.
“We’re surrounded by ghost towns out here. Where did you
say you’re from?”

“Pennsylvania,” she hedged.

“Where, in Pennsylvania?” he asked pointedly, as they
crossed the parking lot.
She winced as he opened her door. “Philadelphia?”
His grin widened. “Hah, I thought so. You’re a city girl.
Not for nothing, but what made you pick Green Junction?”
“I wanted something different,” she said, lifting her
chin. It was hard to admit to a real cowboy she’d wanted to
escape the suburban bubble she’d always felt swaddled in.
“A challenge?” He didn’t even try to hide his
amusement.
“The work Doc has for me seems interesting,” she said
defensively, climbing up into the truck with as much
dignity as she could muster.
“Oh, it’ll be a challenge, girl,” he agreed, moving
around to open his door. He turned the key in the ignition.
“Winter’s are cold here, and this town can feel really
isolated once the snows come. I hope you’re not
disappointed,” he said, glancing her way.
“I won’t be. And even if I am, I’ll stick it out. I’m only
committed until spring.”