It was like déjà vu, seeing him in hero mode again. Rain lashed them both, though Brogan did his best to shield the woman. The scant traffic had mostly come to a complete standstill. One woman stepped out of her van, gesturing them forward as she slid open the side door. Brogan led the woman there.
Flames surged at the front of the truck, spurring Brogan to leave her in the care of the passerby as he rushed back.
Never in Pixie’s life had she been so worried. In so many movies, she’d seen cars explode, but, thank God, Cort had told her that wasn’t something that happened—at least not very often. But the flames were growing higher despite the downpour. Gray smoke billowed out around the hood.
Andy sniffled loudly. “Mam.”
His quavering voice nearly did her in. “I’m right here, sweetheart. Mam is here. It’s just rain. Look out your window at all the rain.”
He didn’t. His gaze remained on her face, and she knew he was picking up on her fear. She forced a smile, then leaned down to kiss his forehead, his nose, and his chin. “Did you have a good nap?”
“Fend?”
“Brogan will be right back, I promise.” But what if he wasn’t? She drew her own shaky breath, then made a decision and called Marlow. It was a very short conversation, because Pixie’s explanation was limited with little ears listening in. Thankfully, Marlow understood what she didn’t say.
“I don’t think we’ll need you, but I wanted you to know.”
Marlow said, “And you wanted someone to talk to. I get it. Cort is already on his way.”
Relieved, Pixie briefly closed her eyes. “Thank you.”
When Andy asked again, with tears in his voice, “Fend?” Marlow heard him.
“Put it on speaker and I’ll talk to him.”
“Okay, Low,” she teased, using Andy’s name for her, so grateful to have a friend right now.
Andy was thrilled to talk to Marlow, and she soon had him giggling, while Pixie stroked Shayna’s hair and kept watch on the scene before her.
The lightning worried her, illuminating the area like a flash spotlight. She saw Brogan trying to get into the truck, but due to the way the front end had bent—or maybe because of the age of the truck—neither door would open. To Pixie’s fretful gaze, he looked worried as he jogged to the side of the road, selected a rock, and returned to break the window.
Brogan reached through the window, then helped a young man crawl out through the opening. He looked in worse shape than the older woman. The guy didn’t budge when Brogan tried to urge him away from the burning truck. Slumped against Brogan, he coughed and talked, pointing at the truck. When Brogan gave a nod, Pixie sat forward.
What now?
She had her answer a second later as a young dog stuck its head out the window. His ears were back with fear. For some reason, that choked her up even more.
Brogan cautiously stroked the dog’s head; then, when theyoung man managed to stand on his own, Brogan reached in and lifted out the dog. He held it close, shielding it from the rain and talking softly.
It was official. Pixie was 100 percent, completely, genuinely,desperately, in love. No matter what happened next, her heart would never be the same.
A fire engine roared onto the scene, making Andy’s conversation impossible. Pixie reclaimed the phone, and with a promise to update Marlow soon, she ended the call. Both Andy and Shayna stared in fascination out the windows at the flashing lights that reflected off every wet surface.
The fire engine might have pulled up alongside the wreck, but other cars had stopped and blocked the way. On the positive side, they helped to shield Brogan from being hit by any other skidding vehicles.
Police were now on the scene, too, including the officer who had shown up when Benny almost drowned. Other men took over with the two injured parties, and someone who appeared to know the young man showed up, hugged him, and took the dog from Brogan.
Wearily, Brogan started back toward Pixie.
Until the older woman hailed him.
He walked to her, staying to the side so he wouldn’t impede the EMT now checking her forehead. The woman waved off the helpers and put her hand to Brogan’s jaw. She wore a small smile as she said a few things, to which he nodded.
It was such a touching scene, Pixie just knew she was going to start sobbing.
By the time Brogan got back to the SUV, he was soaked through to the skin. He opened the driver’s door, but then stood there, undecided.
Pixie quickly turned his slicker inside out and leaned forward to put it over his seat. “Come on, Brogan. Get out of the rain. The car seats will dry.”
