A Forever Christmas

Chapter Two

Gabriel was torn between leaving the woman where she was until help arrived and trying to get her out of her totaled vehicle.

Weighing pros and cons, he was leaning toward the former since the ground was wet and he had no idea what sort of internal injuries she’d sustained. Since he had no medical training, he was afraid that moving her, if he unintentionally did it the wrong way, might make things worse for the blonde.

But the silent debate ended abruptly when he became aware of the very strong smell of gasoline. It was coming from her car, never a good thing considering the kind of damages the vehicle had sustained.

Staying in the wrecked vehicle was definitely not a safe choice for either one of them. Gabriel shifted, trying first one door, then the other, hoping that at least one of them was more pliable from the inside of the sedan than from the outside.

But they weren’t. Neither door gave an inch, nor gave any indications that they could be moved if enough pressure was applied.

They remained sealed even when he attempted to kick his way out.

The force he’d exerted reverberated all the way up his leg to his thigh. The door still didn’t budge.

Since the doors appeared to be permanently sealed, he thought his next best bet was the front windshield. He’d already crawled in through the windshield to reach the unconscious woman, but that had been at a price. He’d gotten half a dozen or more cuts along his arms and torso for his trouble. Using this route to get out meant he had to do some more cleaning up. The woman was already bleeding from her scalp. He didn’t want to add to her injuries if he could help it.

Bracing himself on the seat, Gabriel raised both of his legs up as high as he could, then kicked against the windshield as hard as he was able.

It wasn’t enough.

He did it again.

And again.

With each kick, a little more of the windshield shattered and drops of glass rained down on either the hood or directly into the car. Before he’d gotten started, he’d covered up the blonde with his jacket as best he could, trying to protect her from the falling glass.

Taking his jacket back now, he wrapped it around his arm, and then swung his arm in a giant sweeping motion, clearing away as much of the broken glass fragments as he could. He wanted to be able to get her out, onto the hood, with as little of the jagged edges grabbing on to her as possible.

Gabe was well aware that the maneuver would have been a great deal easier if there was someone outside the vehicle to hand her off to. But he was fighting against the clock. Who knew how much more of a safety zone he had left to work with? He had the uneasy feeling that the car could blow up at any moment and he needed to get them both out of there and in the clear before that happened.

Besides, taking a closer look, he saw that she was still bleeding from her temple. He needed to get the blonde into town and to the doctor.

It occurred to Gabe, as he struggled to get the unconscious woman through the opening he’d created, that a year ago there would have been no doctor to take her to. At least, none in Forever and none around for a fifty-mile radius. Any medical emergency had to be handled in Pine Ridge, which boasted of a hospital within the town limits. Before Dan Davenport had arrived, Forever had been without a doctor for the past thirty years.

And now they had one.

Forever wasn’t exactly a shining beacon of progress, but they were getting there, little by little, Gabe thought. He supposed that baby steps were better than no steps at all.

Despite the fact that it was cold and the woman he was struggling to get out of the car was little more than just a slip of a thing, Gabe found himself working up a sweat. There just wasn’t all that much space to successfully maneuver in.

Pausing to catch his breath, he rubbed the perspiration from his forehead with the side of his forearm before it fell into his eyes.

“Okay now,” he muttered, positioning his hands where he knew she would have protested had she only been conscious, he squared his shoulders and shoved, “one last big push.”

Exhaling the breath he’d been holding, he experienced a surge of triumph. She was out! Time for him to be the same.

Gabriel scrambled out of the mangled death trap himself.

A small spark seemed to materialize out of nowhere. The sudden gleam reflected in the side mirror caught his eye. Gabriel instantly reacted even before the actual image even registered in his mind.

His feet hitting the ground, he grabbed the blonde up in his arms and raced to his truck. Pushing her into the passenger seat, he had just enough time to jump in behind the wheel and throw the vehicle into Reverse. His foot urgently pressing the accelerator all the way down to the floor, he put as much distance as humanly possible between his truck and the totaled sedan.

He did it just in time. The spark had multiplied, giving birth to flames that grew instantly larger and larger, as well as more insistent. By the time he’d gotten three hundred feet between his truck and the sedan, the latter blew up.

He sat in the cab of his truck, staring in disbelief at what very easily could have been his funeral pyre—or at the very least, hers.

Tension riddled his six-foot-two frame, even as he closed his eyes and exhaled.

“Guess we both just used up our share of luck for the next fifty years,” he speculated quietly, addressing his words to the unconscious blonde in the seat beside him.

His nerves badly rattled, Gabriel took a few deep breaths to try to steady his nerves. It would take more than that, but he kept at it, knowing he needed to get a grip on his emotions. People would be asking questions and he was vaguely aware that he had to put this all down in a report.

It started to rain again.

Nature was putting out the fire, he thought absently, unable to look away.

He was so completely focused on what had just happened that he remained almost totally oblivious to his surroundings for at least a couple of minutes. By the time he saw the other two vehicles, they were all but on top of him.

The weather-battered tow truck led the way. Mick had come, just as he’d promised.

The second vehicle was a Jeep. The official markings on its sides proclaimed it to belong to the sheriff’s department. As they approached, the Jeep suddenly picked up speed and wound up reaching him first.

Barely coming to a complete stop, the deputy inside the vehicle jumped out. Alma hit the ground running at her top speed.

Reaching the truck, she cried out breathlessly, “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Gabriel told her, dismissing himself. “But she’s not.” And then his mind suddenly backtracked, remembering. His only call had been to Mick. He’d stated the problem. He had not asked for reinforcement. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Having a heart attack,” Alma retorted. She nodded toward the scruffy mechanic in the worn sheepskin jacket and faded overalls.

“Mick called the sheriff’s office as soon as he hung up with you. I picked up the call,” she added needlessly. Satisfied that her brother had no mortal wounds, she seemed to relax a little. For the first time, she took note of the woman slumped beside him on the passenger seat. “What happened to her?”

Gabe shrugged, his wide shoulders reinforcing his answer. “Damned if I know. I was driving into town when I spotted her car.” He nodded in the general direction of the ravine. “It was tottering on the edge, two wheels in the air and set to drop like a stone at the slightest shift in weight.”

“And she didn’t say how that happened?”

Gabe shook his head. “She was unconscious when I got there.” His eyes shifted toward Mick. The mechanic was now standing behind Alma. With the sedan burned, there was nothing for the man to tow or fix. “Sorry I got you out here for no reason, Mick,” he apologized.

Mick rubbed the ever-present graying stubble along his chin as he looked back at what was left of the sedan. “Oh, I dunno. Might take it back to the shop, anyway, and do me a little detective work on the remains. Figure out why it burned,” he explained, adding, “Things are a might slow right now. Could use the diversion.” He paused and peered closer into the cab of Gabe’s truck. “You don’t need a tow in or nuthin’, do you?”

With a pleased smile, Gabe sat up and affectionately patted the dashboard. “She handled herself just like the trouper she is, Mick.”

Mick beamed with satisfaction, like a parent whose child had remembered all his lines in the school play. “That’s ’cause she had a good mechanic,” Mick pointed out matter-of-factly. Then he nodded at the woman whose car was now a charred heap and asked, “What are you gonna do about her?”

Alma already had her cell out. “I’ll call ahead to the doc, tell him we’ve got an emergency coming in.” She looked at her brother. “Two emergencies,” she corrected. When Gabe raised one quizzical eyebrow, she said, “Have him check out both of you.”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel told her firmly. He absolutely hated being fussed over, especially when the person doing the fussing was a doctor.

With a sigh, Alma shifted the cell phone to her other hand. Leaning in, she ran the tips of two of her fingers along his bare arm. Holding up “Exhibit A” for Gabe’s perusal, she said, “Not from where I’m standing. You’ve got cuts on both your arms, big brother. You’re seeing the doctor.” There was no room for argument in her tone.

Gabe tried, anyway. “But—”

Alma leveled a pointed, silencing look at him. “You’re seeing the doctor, Gabe,” she repeated with deadly conviction, “even if I have to beat you senseless to do it.”

He laughed shortly. That was Alma. If sweet talk didn’t work, she instantly turned to verbal threats, which in turn bore fruit if necessary.

“Comforting,” he cracked.

“I wasn’t trying to be comforting,” Alma informed him crisply. “I was just trying to keep you from bleeding to death. Don’t want or need you preying on my conscience, Gabriel.”

Gabe gave up arguing the point directly and resorted to shifting the focus of the conversation.

“I’m more concerned about her,” Gabe said. He took out a handkerchief and wiped away some of the blood on the blonde’s forehead.

The handkerchief fell from his fingers when he heard the woman moan.

It was the first actual sign of life he’d gotten from her. “You’re okay,” he said to the blonde with feeling. “You’re with friends.”

“Friends she ain’t met yet,” Mick, who’d been silent for the most part, now quipped before walking away to take a closer look at what remained of the car.

It was still raining. Not nearly as badly as it had been earlier, but sufficiently enough to put out what there still was of the fire. Plumes of smoke twisted and turned in the air before fading off to become part of the atmosphere.

Alma looked at Gabe uncertainly. She knew the way he thought, knew the way all her brothers thought. Each and every one of them believed he was indestructible. It was a common family failing.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” she pressed. “Because I could—”

Gabe knew where this was going and quickly cut his sister off.

“I’m okay,” he assured her, then after a beat, added in a quieter voice, “Thanks for asking.”

For a second, Alma was speechless, then flashed her brother a tight smile. Stepping back from the truck, she told him, “I’ll drive behind you to make sure you don’t suddenly need something.”

Gabe didn’t see himself needing anything, suddenly or otherwise, but he knew there was no point in arguing. All he could do was just restate his position. “I’m okay, but suit yourself.”

“Thanks for your permission,” Alma said dryly, though he could tell she was doing her best to cover up her fear of losing him.

Gabe grinned for the first time since Alma had come on the scene. “Don’t mention it.”

Alma waved a dismissive hand at him as she walked away.

Mick was busy hooking up his tow truck to what was left of the woman’s charred sedan and Alma was getting back into her Jeep while making the call to Dan’s office to let the doctor know that he had an emergency patient coming in. Neither one of them saw the woman in Gabe’s truck suddenly sit up as he started the vehicle again.

“No!”

The single word tore from her lips. There was terror in her eyes and she gave every indication that she was going to jump out of the truck’s cab—or at least try to. Surprised, Gabe quickly grabbed her by the arm with his free hand, pulling her back inside the vehicle and into her seat.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” he told her.

The fear in her eyes remained. If anything, it grew even larger.

“Who are you?” the blonde cried breathlessly. She appeared completely disoriented.

“Gabriel Rodriguez.” Since he knew the name would mean nothing to her, he added, “I’m the guy who pulled you out of your car and kept you from becoming a piece of charcoal.”

Her expression didn’t change. It was as if his words weren’t even registering. Nonetheless, Gabe paused, giving her a minute as he waited for her response.

But the woman said nothing.

“Okay,” he coaxed as he continued driving toward Forever, “your turn.”

The world, both inside the moving vehicle and outside of it, was spinning faster and faster, making it impossible for her to focus. Moreover, she couldn’t seem to manage to pull her thoughts together. Couldn’t get passed the heavy hand of fear that was all but smothering her, pushing her deep into the seat she was sitting on.

“My turn?” she echoed. What did that mean, her turn? Her turn to do what, go where?

“Yes, your turn,” he repeated. Then, because she looked no clearer on the concept than she had a second ago, he elaborated. “I told you my name. Now you tell me yours.”

Her name.

The two words echoed in her brain, encountering only emptiness.

The silence stretched until it was a long, thin thread, leading nowhere. Finally, just before he repeated his question again, she said in a small voice, hardly above a whisper, “I can’t.”

She was afraid, he thought. She didn’t trust him. He could accept that. Considering what she had just gone through, there was little wonder at her reaction.

He did his best to reassure her.

“Look, I’m a deputy sheriff,” he told her, adding, “I can protect you. You can tell me your name.”

Suddenly very weary, she strained very, very hard, searching, waiting for something to come to her.

Anything. A scrap.

But nothing did.

Not so much as a fragment, not the smallest of pieces occurred to her.

Nothing but darkness and formless shadows.

The terror in her sky-blue eyes grew as she turned them on him. She wet her lips before speaking. It didn’t help. The dryness went down several layers, into her very soul.

“No, I can’t,” she repeated hoarsely.

This job would take more patience than he’d initially thought. Patience and skill. It certainly was different from what he’d imagined.

He owed Alma an apology, Gabe decided, for saying that being a deputy in this county was a very slow-paced, boring job.

So much for that, he thought sarcastically.

“We’ll protect you,” he told the woman again, but he could see that no matter how he said it, it made no difference to her. Her expression—confused, frightened—didn’t change. Obviously his assurance had no effect on her. He peeled back another layer, approaching the problem from another direction. “And why can’t you tell me your name?”

“Because,” she began, then stopped herself. She could feel bars going up, safeguards rising out of nowhere, intended to keep this man out.

Why?

Was she like that with everyone, or was it just him? And was he really a good Samaritan who’d been passing by, at the right time, in the right place, just in time to “rescue” her, or was that a story he’d made up to lull her into a false sense of security?

And why would he do that?

Exactly who was he to her?

More importantly, who was she to her?

She felt suddenly hollow and incredibly empty with no clue how to remedy either.

“Because—” Her voice broke. Taking a deep breath, she pushed on again and this time finished her sentence. “Because I don’t know who I am.” Anger and frustration echoing in her voice.

She was kidding, right? Gabe thought. When she said nothing more, he pressed, “You’re serious? This isn’t some kind of a joke you’re playing?”

When she made no answer, he spared her a glance, thinking to coax the answer from her, or at least search her face for a clue as to whether or not she was actually telling the truth—although, when it came to reading people, Joe Lone Wolf, the sheriff’s other deputy and coincidentally also his brother-in-law, was a lot better at that than he was.

One glance at the blonde told Gabriel he wasn’t about to coax anything out of her, or discern anything from her expression, either.

She was unconscious again.