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Authors: Carrie Daws

Tags: #Christian Fiction

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BOOK: Ryan's Crossing
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“Umm, yeah,” said Brittney, shaking off her worries. “Sure.”

“You seem distracted tonight,” said Ryan. He shifted in the bench seat of their table at the restaurant, quiet music playing in the background.

“Huh?” said Brittney, lost in her private concerns. “Oh, sorry. I am.”

“What’s going on?”

Brittney fiddled with her napkin and sat up straighter, glancing quickly around for the waitress. “I just—I don’t know. A couple things, I guess,” she said, her gaze returning to the napkin in her hands. “Do you think it’s going to be much longer for our food?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not. I’m just hungry.”

“Uh-huh. Are you going to actually tell me anything, or are you going to keep talking to your napkin?”

Her eyes flew to his face, and she dropped the napkin on the table. “Well, I’m not sure how to…I’m not sure what…I don’t think…”

Ryan reached out and covered Brittney’s hands with his own. “Stop. Breathe.”

A tingle raced up her arms. Ryan touching her hands was not helping her to think more clearly. She took a slow, deep breath.

“Now quit avoiding whatever it is you don’t want to bring up, and let’s get it out between us,” said Ryan. “You aren’t even looking at me tonight. Did I do something to irritate you?”

She looked at him for a moment and saw concern in his eyes. “No, you haven’t done anything wrong. An idea was presented to me earlier today that I hadn’t thought about before. But it also brought up other questions.”

“Okay…” said Ryan.

Brittney slouched back in her seat, removing her hands from Ryan’s. “You’ve been talking about your job choices. Have you made a decision yet?”

Ryan twisted slightly in the seat and put his arm along the top of the bench. “I did talk to an advisor at the university. She said that I basically just need a couple more sciences, statistics, and one more humanities class to get my bachelor’s and be able to apply to the medical school.”

Brittney frowned. “That would be a pretty heavy load for one semester.”

“Especially while working. I think I could knock one class out this summer, then a couple this fall and one in the spring to finish it up.”

Brittney took a deep breath and then asked the question that had weighed so heavily on her mind. “So are you going to take the promotion in McWilliam?”

Suddenly, their waitress was at the table. “Here’s your pepperoni pizza. Please be careful. The pan is very hot.” She set the pizza down between them. “Can I get you anything else?”

“I think we’re fine,” said Ryan with a smile.

Brittney waited, tension building in her neck and shoulders.

Ryan served a slice onto her plate. “Want to pray so we can eat while we keep talking?”

Brittney shrugged her shoulders, willing the tension to leave them. “Whatever.”

Ryan paused in the middle of grabbing a slice for his own plate. “Whatever?”

Ashamed of the way she was acting, Brittney took a deep breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I just worked four days in a row, and I’m exhausted and not good company. Maybe it would be better if I just went home.”

Ryan looked critically at her. “I don’t buy it.”

“What?”

“You, my dear, are a lying chicken.”

Brittney started to open her mouth but then closed it abruptly. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. He’s right. I am lying, and tonight I am definitely a chicken.

“So, do my career plans have something to do with your distracted mind?”

Brittney wasn’t sure how to answer that question safely. Everything she thought to say led back to her wondering if she and Ryan were just friends, or if they were working on more than that.

“How about this,” said Ryan as steam from the fresh pizza rose between them. “Since we’re all expected in Crossing tomorrow for Rachel-Amber’s birthday party, I’ll pick up Pops in the morning. Then we’ll swing by your place to get you. I don’t see any reason why we should both drive.”

“Okay.” She opened her eyes and looked across the table at him, grateful for the change in conversation. “Truce.”

He looked at her and nodded. He picked up a piece of pizza—the melted cheese stretching before breaking free from the pie—and laid it on his plate.

“I told Pops I would pick him up around nine in the morning. But riding in my car would be easier for Pops than your Mustang.”

“So we switch tonight.” He shrugged as he took a bite.

“We switch what?”

“Vehicles.”

Brittney’s eyes were huge. His prized ‘68 Mustang? He’s going to just hand me the keys? “You’re going to drive my Equinox home and let me take your Mustang?”

“Why not? You can drive a stick shift, can’t you?”

“It’s been a while, but yeah. I just didn’t think you’d ever let anyone else drive that car.”

“Mom and Dad can’t drive a stick, and Keith’s not going near it for several more years.” He took a drink. “Kinda got the impression Pete would like to, but he hasn’t asked.”

Brittney picked up her pizza, feeling a little better. “Okay, deal. We switch vehicles tonight, and I’ll be ready to go by nine-fifteen.”

Chapter 19

RYAN KNOCKED ON POPS’ FRONT
door at 8:55 the next morning.

“Morning, sir.”

Pops looked him over and glanced at a clock hanging in the hall. “Early, huh. Like that.”

Pops stepped back to a small table to grab his keys and then picked up his coat from a nearby chair. Ryan saw an overnight bag sitting near the door. “Can I carry your bag to the car?”

“Yep. That’d be fine.”

As they walked out to Brittney’s car, Pops said, “Just what are your intentions, young man?”

Intentions? “Well, sir. Today my intentions are to get you and your granddaughter safely to Crossing for my sister’s birthday party.” Ryan put the bag in the back of the car and looked at Pops.

“Yeah. And tomorrow?”

“I would have to say my intentions tomorrow are to return you both safely home again.”

“Blast it, boy. Are you always this irritating?”

“Probably, sir,” said Ryan with a grin, leaning on the side of the car. “At least when the intent of the questioner is unclear.”

Pops took a step closer and pointed in Ryan’s face. “What are your intentions with my granddaughter?”

The grin left Ryan’s face. He knew this man could help or hinder his hopes with Brittney. He wanted the old man on his side. He’d hoped to have part of this conversation with Brittney last night, but whatever had been on her mind hadn’t given him the impression that it would have gone well.

“Honestly, sir, my intent is to take a job at the Crossing clinic and convince your granddaughter to transfer to the nursing job so she can work alongside me—as my wife.” Did I just say that out loud?

Pops looked at him intently, and Ryan didn’t relax during the scrutiny. Pops finally nodded. “Good.” He turned and opened his door. “Saves me the trouble of pushing you two together all weekend.”

Shocked, Ryan watched him climb into the car and shut his door. He grinned as he walked around to his own door. One man of the family down, three to go.

The short trip to Brittney’s was uneventful, and they quickly picked up the two-lane highway south. A few miles outside of town, they came across a line of stopped traffic.

“Wonder what’s up?” said Brittney, glancing around.

Ryan tried to look ahead but couldn’t see anything except the line of vehicles.

“Probably an accident,” said Pops. “Always stupid people driving this road like it’s the autobahn. Particularly dangerous in late February!”

“Brittney,” said Ryan. “Why don’t you move up here? I’m going to walk down and see if anyone needs help.” Ryan got out of the car and held the door for her to switch from the back seat to the front. “Keep your cell phone close.”

Ryan zipped up his coat and jogged down the line of cars until he saw the accident scene and other people standing around. “Has anyone called 9-1-1?”

“I did,” said a woman standing nearby.

He quickly assessed the situation. One car upside down in the ditch, probably totaled, with at least one passenger inside. One lady hysterical on the outside of the car trying to get in. Another car fairly crunched in the middle of the road with at least one person inside.

He looked around and pointed to a man nearby. “Sir, I need you to start working with the drivers of these cars to clear a working area for the emergency vehicles coming from Portland.”

Then he looked back to the woman who said she called 9-1-1. “Ma’am, I need you to tell the drivers on the other side that they might want to turn around and find another road.”

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called Brittney. “I need you to pull the car as far off the road as you safely can and call 9-1-1 to give them an update on the accident on Highway 26. A lady says she’s already called, but tell them it’s a two-car accident with multiple injuries. We’ll need fire and rescue, maybe jaws of life. Also tell them a paramedic and nurse are on the scene, and then I need you to hurry down here to help me.”

He shut the phone and went to the car in the middle of the road first. “Sir, can you hear me?” The man looked at Ryan, very dazed. “Can you hear me?”

He slowly nodded.

“Does anything hurt?” The man stared at him at him for a moment and then looked back out the windshield.

Ryan did a quick check. Conscious, but probably in deep shock. Breathing, seatbelt on, no obvious signs of bleeding. Ryan touched the man’s hands that still held the steering wheel, noting both felt warm to the touch. He looked around again and caught the attention of another onlooker. “Sir, I need your help.”

The man strode forward, eager to help. “This man seems to be okay, just in shock. I need you to stay here with him and try to get him to talk to you. Look in the glove box and see if you can find a name or address or something to see if that helps him refocus. Just don’t leave him until the paramedics get here. Let me know if he loses consciousness or you start seeing any blood.”

Ryan jogged over to the hysterical woman, the sound of a crying baby getting closer. “Ma’am.”

“My baby!” She grabbed Ryan’s sleeve and pulled him toward the car.

“Ma’am!” He grabbed both her arms. “I’ll get your baby, but I need you to calm down.” Ryan glanced her over and only saw minor cuts and a goose egg forming on her right temple.

“Please get my baby. Please…”

“How old?”

The woman tried pulling Ryan toward the car again. “Please, my baby!”

“Ma’am. How old is your baby?”

“She’s five months. Please!”

“Okay. I’ll get her. You stay up here for me.”

Brittney came running up past all the stopped vehicles. “What do you need?”

“Stay with her. She seems coherent but has head trauma. I’m going to look closer at the car and see if I can get to the baby.” Ryan carefully made his way down into the ditch and looked at the driver through a cracked front window.
Suspended in his seat belt,
unconscious, bleeding, seems to be breathing, but tough to tell with jacket on. He looked into the back seat, but the car was at a bad angle. He couldn’t see the child, but from the sounds of the cries, he knew she was conscious and breathing without a problem. At least the car seat was still firmly attached to the back seat. He tried pushing on the car, stepping back as it moved.

He crawled back up out of the ditch and looked at Brittney. “The car’s too unstable. I can’t get in without putting the driver and child at further risk.”

He looked at the cars closest to the accident. Many of the drivers were standing around, watching the drama unfold before them. He called out, “Does anyone have a jack in their car I can use? I need two or three.”

Four drivers went to their trunks and pulled out what they had. One man climbed down in the ditch with Ryan and helped place the jacks in various positions, stabilizing the car enough for Ryan to get in the back seat through a broken window.

As he crawled into position, a small, red face looked down at him. “Hey, there, sweet girl.” Ryan could finally hear the sound of sirens in the distance. He reached for the baby, and she started to whimper. He moved slightly to be able to catch her more easily once he released the straps holding her into the seat. “It’s a good thing your momma made sure these straps were nice and tight around you, little one.”

As the baby cried, he felt for broken bones or signs of bleeding. Not finding any obvious signs of injury, he reached up to release the latch. Just as he caught her, the car shifted in the snow. Hearing glass crunch under his shoulder, Ryan cuddled her close until the car settled. Carefully, he handed the baby out the window to his helper before crawling out himself.

“Get that baby up to the women, then help me tighten up these jacks.”

He began checking the jacks closest to him, tightening one against the bank a little more. He looked at the man who’d been helping him. “Make sure you’re up the ditch a bit in case this car shifts again. When Fire and Rescue get here, let them know that a paramedic is in the car and the driver is unconscious.”

BOOK: Ryan's Crossing
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