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“It was,” Amber replied meekly, suddenly realizing she hadn’t given the whole story and the dark gray coat she was wearing probably hid any blood. Closing the door to his truck, she prayed the kids wouldn’t feel the tension shift. “Semi jackknifed and blocked the west bound lane.”
“And.”
“And, a group of motorcycles wiped out,” she said quickly. “People were hurt, what was I supposed to do?”
“Be a mother, first. You shouldn’t have stopped with my kids in the van.” Spittle formed on the edges of his mouth from his rage.
“I didn’t have a choice, I was stopped anyway.”
“So because you were bored—”
“Bye babies.” Amber didn’t want to fight with him in this open parking lot or anywhere for that matter. Kevin had never understood how the job followed her, she was never not a nurse, much like she was never not a mother. She waved to the kids and quickly made her way back to her van.
“This conversation isn’t over Amber,” Kevin called after her.
Hands shaking, she got behind the wheel and shut the door before quickly starting up her van to pull away. Glad this drop was over and she left unscathed for the most part. She drove for a few minutes then pulled into a grocery store parking lot and parked. Settling herself, she pulled out her phone, happy Kevin hadn’t gone on a texting rant and was paying attention to Maisie and Callum.
Happy to be in Billings with a bit more signal, she went on the internet to see if she could find anything on the Steel MC Montana Charter. Everyone had a website didn’t they? If nothing else, the clinic in Turnabout Creek must have a review or something. She just wanted to find out some information on them before she called Nova or Red to see how everyone was doing.
Charity Ride and Auctionwas the big headline on the website for a local weekly paper, advertising the ride they were going to take to raise money for a community center. Amber had heard about the improvements being made around Turnabout Creek and the fact the MC was behind most, but her heart was breaking when she saw the details. The date was today, they weren’t riding to ride. Each motorcycle had a hundred dollar buy in, with a fifty dollar fee per rider. She clicked on the link for baskets being auctioned off later that day, only now that would have to be postponed, but she was sure the last thing people were thinking about was the damn website.
Her eyes flashed with visions of all those spread over the roadway. Each one having passed a hat in a way to raise money for their community. A school they were trying to revive, so families would move to Turnabout and it didn’t die out like most towns did. Even now, a half dozen towns bussed their kids into Berrington for school and she couldn’t imagine having to run from another town to get her kids after school.
Not finding too much on the actual MC, she looked up the number she’d been given and hit send. She waited a few rings and someone answered. “This is Dr. Luke.”
She paused, Luke? Doctor? Red? “Hi Dr. Luke, this is Amber. I helped Red and Nova today at the scene of the accident.”
“Oh, hi, this is Red. How are you?”
“Good. I was just checking on everyone to see how they were doing?”
“They’re keeping Baldy for a few days and Lil’ Bit overnight, she’s about to head to surgery right now, but they are sending everyone else home.”
“Which Orthopod?” she asked, it had only been a few years, and she hadn’t heard of any of the docs moving on.
“Um…”
The other end of the line silenced and she checked her phone to see if they had been disconnected. She was overstepping.
“Dr. Krandle.”
“Male or female?”
“Female,” he drew out the word.
Her stomach clenched from being so invasive. “Oh good, if I got hurt she’d be who I’d chose, her brother on the other hand… I’m sorry did I tell you I worked at that ER for close to a decade.”
“No,” he replied. “Any other helpful hints?”
“Baldy going to ICU?” she asked.
“For the night at least,” he replied. “He’s having some vision issues, but his pupil is responding better now.”
“Good, the hospitalists are all good, they will take care of him, but if you need a neurosurgeon, ask for McCarthy.”
“You McCarthy?” Red asked someone there, his voice harsh and not speaking into the phone.
“Yes,” the familiar voice carried over the line.
