Yeah, that would be a problem. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Andy’s seat, which was different from Shayna’s, and decided he’d order one—just in case anything like that happened. If all went well, he’d be here for months yet. For each and every one of those days, he hoped to spend time with Pixie.
“Of course,” Pixie continued, “Marlow went out the next day and bought a car seat.”
Well, now, he didn’t mind having something in common with the indomitable Marlow.
A smile curved Pixie’s mouth. “Sometimes I think she loves Andy almost as much as I do.”
Almost, but not quite, because Brogan didn’t think anyone could love that boy more than Pixie did. “I’m glad you’ve had her and Cort.”
“I wish you’d had someone like them, too.”
He hadn’t really planned to talk about his brothers, but he found himself doing just that. For the next few minutes, he shared information about the men he’d called family.
“They all sound wonderful.”
That wasn’t a description Brogan would have used, but it fit. “They were the best of men.”
She sat quietly a moment, then asked, “When you were wounded …?”
His jaw clenched reflexively. In the next second, he forced himself to relax. Pixie had shared so much with him, he wanted to return the favor. “During an ambush, the four of us got separated from the others.” His heart started thumping hard, as it always did when he replayed those events. He couldn’t share details, so he said simply, “We were hit with heavy artillery, pinned down.” His skin went hot, then alternately cold—until he felt Pixie’s small hand on him again.
She slid her fingertips beneath the sleeve of his shirt, over his biceps. “You must have been in awful pain.”
As if the weather agreed, the rain started in earnest again, this time with bold flashes of lightning and a rumble of thunder that stirred the kids awake.
He absolutely could not talk about this while driving in a storm, so he wrapped up the conversation. “The physical pain was nothing compared to seeing what had happened to the others.” For months, he’d wished that he had died, too.
But not now.
Now he was glad to be alive, to be here for Shayna—and to know Pixie and Andy. He was just about to tell her that, when he saw two vehicles off the road, one more mangled than the other.
Reading his expression, she said, “Brogan …”
He nodded ahead.
She looked forward and gasped. “Is that the same Buick that was at the grocery store?”
Seemed so, along with a Ford truck that had to be thirty years old. Brogan quickly pulled over, dreading what he might find. An image flashed in his mind of the elderly woman eyeing him over her glasses while playfully chiding him. “Call 911, and lock the doors, okay?”
“Brogan.” She grabbed his arm. “I see fire.”
The next flash of lightning brought a furious crack of thunder that rattled the SUV. “Make that call, babe.” As he rushed out into the rain, he heard Shayna wake with a wail. Again, he thanked God that he was with Pixie.
There might not be anything he could do, but at least he could try to help.
Shayna’s cries woke Andy, and before the phone call was answered, both kids were making a racket. Thankfully, the dispatcher who answered was rock steady and took the info as she rattled it off.
For once, her small size was an asset as she climbed over the center console to get in the back seat with the babies. “Shh, shh, sweeties, it’s okay. Andy, I’m right here, honey.” He reached for her, but she didn’t dare take either of them out of their car seats. Brogan had pulled over in a safe spot, but if one wreck could happen, so could another. To be safe, she even put on the center seat belt.
She kissed Andy’s head, gave him the edge of his blanket to hold, and found his cup of juice. “Here you go, sweetheart. Shush now, I’m here.”
His sniffles faded as he guzzled his juice.
She dug through Brogan’s diaper bag and found the insulated carrier that held one of Shayna’s bottles. After shaking it, she put the nipple to Shayna’s mouth. For a few seconds that didn’t work, and her continued cries made Pixie want to cry aswell. Finally, Shayna latched on, hiccupping around some sloppy sucking that sent formula down her chin.
While holding the bottle, Pixie managed to find a bib and tucked it around her neck. To be sure the infant was comfortable, she ran the fingers of her free hand around and under all the car seat straps. Nothing appeared to be pinching, and her diaper didn’t seem overly wet.
With both babies watching her, their noses red and their lashes spiked with tears, she finally worked up the nerve to look at the wreck. The back side door of the Buick stood open; and a moment later, Brogan awkwardly emerged … helping out the older woman. She was favoring her right arm and had a cut on her forehead.
