In the middle of one of the worst Nor'Easters to hit New England in a decade, Emily Bruhn's life takes a turn, and nearly doesn't survive.
A car accident kills her husband Glenn and leaves her in a coma, her body broken. When she finally wakes, and once her body heals, Emily works to rebuild her life. Three years after the accident, she comes face to face with the State Trooper who saved her.
Emily is wary, guarding her heart. But through Wil's gentle, firm persistence she slowly is able to open her heart up to the chance of letting someone in again.
EXCERPT:
“This is Officer Wil Dansing, I am 10-10 with an 11-80 on 93 North, three-quarters of a mile past exit 42. Two vehicles. Requesting immediate response 11-41.”
“10-4, Officer Dansing. Ambulance and personnel en route, Code 3.”
Wil tossed his radio back through the open door of his car and jogged back towards the mangled mess that had once been a minivan and a car. His cowboy boots slipped in the accumulating snow as he reached the tail end of the wreckage, and he slammed his hand against the cold metal to steady himself. The smell of oil and gasoline sat heavy in the cold, midnight air. It stung his nostrils.
With flashlight in hand, he moved along the side of the van, reaching the passenger side entry door. He gripped the door handle and jerked, hoping the mechanism would give. The metal only parted a matter of inches, enough for him to stick his head inside.
The dark interior of the van stank of beer and blood, and Wil swallowed against the momentary queasiness that twisted his stomach. A metallic tang hit the back of his throat. He flashed his light to the driver’s seat. The middle-aged man behind the wheel appeared spineless as his heavy body slumped to the side. A woman was on the front passenger side, her upper body sandwiched between the dash and the spider-web shattered windshield. Blood dripped from her fingers.
Wil shook his head and turned his focus to the passenger area of the vehicle. He quickly searched the seats and floor, seeing no other passengers, and hoped the people in the car fared better than the van.
His fingers were numb with the cold, and he tucked his chin deeper into the collar of his leather jacket. For about two seconds he thought of going back to his car and digging around for gloves, but a need to check on the other car drove him forward.
The warning rang through his mind like a voice on the wind. Hurry! Hurry!
Wil jogged up the right side of the Escort. The small vehicle looked like an accordion, as if someone had tried to shove the trunk into the engine block. The inside of the car was dark, illuminated only by the fading green glow of the dash lights. Ice-crusted snow covered the windshield, and the side windows were blown out by the impact. Tiny bits of broken glass covered everything.
A man sat on the passenger’s side. His face and clothes were covered in blood, his blonde hair matted with gore, and his head hung sideways at a strange angle. Wil knew what he would find, but he laid two fingers on the man’s neck. There was no pulse. The flesh was cold and unyielding.
He flashed his light across the space to the woman who sat behind the steering wheel. Blood ran down her face from the bridge of her nose, and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses hung precariously off one ear. The steering wheel bent at an odd angle, but one he had seen before. The impact from behind probably forced her body into the steering column, bending it beneath the force. If it was strong enough to bend metal, what had it done to her body?
Something caught in the beam of his flashlight. Training his gaze on the space in front of the woman’s face, Wil waited. A puff of white breath hit the cold air and curled in the light.
Heat prickled over Wil’s skin, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.
He rushed around the front of the vehicle, pressing his hand into the snow that covered the hood to keep himself from slipping. Once on her side, he crouched down and quickly huffed three warming breaths on his hand before reaching through the broken window to touch her.
Her skin was warm, though barely in the frigid winter wind, and the soft beat of a pulse whispered against his fingertips. Frustration curled inside him and he looked down the highway, through the near-blinding swirl of falling snow, for some sign that help would be here soon. This woman’s life hung by a thread. She needed help. Now.
He carefully slipped the glasses from her face. Her body jerked, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes snapping open.
“Shush,” he said softly, pressing his palm against her cheek. “You need to stay still. Help is on the way.”
Dark brown eyes stared at him, wide and frightened. Then her gaze darted around her. “Glenn,” she said softly, then again with panic in her voice. “Glenn?”
She started to turn her head towards the man dead beside her, but Wil cupped her cheek and brought her back to look at him. “Look at me. I need you to look at me.”
She did, her eyes large and shining. Her skin was pale, but whether it was from the shock of the accident or her natural coloring, he couldn’t be sure. Strands of dark hair, he couldn’t tell the exact color in the darkness, fell around her forehead and cheeks.
“C-cold.” Her lower jaw trembled with the words.
Wil balanced his flashlight on what was left of the side mirror and shrugged off his jacket. The cold bit at his skin through the weave of his sweater, and snow landed like tiny shards of ice on the back of his neck. He pushed the leather coat through the window, not daring to open the door and possibly jostle her, and draped it over her.
Her eyes closed and her head rolled slightly to the side.
“Hey, don’t go to sleep on me.” Wil touched her cheek again, laying his palm against her skin. “Come on now. Open your eyes.” He tried to keep his voice calm, but his insides twisted and knotted.
She moaned, her lips parting, as her eyes opened again. She blinked, staring at him as if she hadn’t seen him just moments before.
“Hurts . . .”
“I know. But help will be here soon.”
He looked back down the highway and saw flashing red and blue lights in the distance. They were coming, but with the snow, it would still be another couple of minutes before the rescue vehicles could navigate the road to reach them. Wil didn’t know much about emergency medicine, only the basic First Responder training from the Academy, but he knew enough to know he needed to keep this woman aware. Awake. Fighting.
“What’s your name?”
She stared at him, her forehead creasing.
“Tell me. What’s your name?”
“E-Emily.”
“Emily, I’m Wil. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
She nodded, the movement barely noticeable against his hand. “Take care of me. . .” she mumbled.
“Yes. Emily, open your eyes and look at me.”
Her heavy lids slid back and her gaze shifted up to him again. She turned into his hand.
Wil looked up again as two ambulances and three cruisers slid to a stop. As soon as the paramedics were free of their vehicles, he used his free hand to wave.
“Over here! This woman needs help. Now!”
Emily’s icy hand curled around his wrist. It was like being grabbed by the dead. Wil took her hand between his and blew warm breath over them.
“The paramedics are here. You’ll be okay, Emily.”
