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The little boy stood frozen in the middle of the school's crosswalk, eyes locked on the approaching vehicle. Time slowed until everything blurred except the child.
The crossing guard yelled something and, from the corner of her eye, Paige saw the man to her left bolt toward the terrified boy. The agonized expression on his face revealed that he knew he wouldn't make it in time.
"Will!" The hoarse scream tore from his throat, echoing in the air.
Doing her best not to think about the danger, she pedaled furiously, weaving in and out of the few stragglers still on the sidewalk, and swept into the crosswalk. The sun beat down in her eyes as the car's engine screamed in her ears, warning her she would lose this game of chicken.
But she had to try.
Paige could feel the heat radiating from the vehicle as she reached out to snag the boy around his waist. She knew she would be off balance and would probably hit the ground. Her only thought was to get clear of the car.
In spite of the muscles screaming in her right arm with the weight of the boy, she felt elation sweep through her.
She'd made it. Then something clipped her back wheel.
The bicycle handlebar lurched from her one–handed grasp and she lost control.
Felt herself going down.
Saw the ground coming up.
And twisted at the last minute so she was the one who crashed first, the child's body slamming onto her.
A sharp pain lanced the back of her head and then blackness descended.
Doctor Dylan Seabrook shook with fear and adrenaline. "Will!"
He raced to his nephew and grabbed him from his prone position on top of the woman who'd just saved Will's life. Dropping to his knees beside her, he did his best to assess the damage as quickly as possible.
She wasn't moving, her face white like death, blond hair splayed on the ground. But he could see her breathing. With one hand, he felt for a pulse under her chin, even as his other ran over Will's small frame checking for injuries.
He looked up at the nearest person. "Has someone called 911?"
"I did," a voice said to his left.
One person at a time, Dylan told himself. He gave Will a more thorough check and breathed a grateful sigh that he appeared physically unhurt, but the blank stare sent fear racing through Dylan. Will hadn't spoken in over eight weeks. Ever since his mother had died in a house fire. What would this do to him?
But he couldn't think about that now. The woman was hurt. Again, he glanced at Will. The boy just watched him with no expression on his face. Dylan grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to him. "Sit here, buddy, all right?"
Obedience, but no other response.
Switching to doctor mode, he glanced at the second hand on his watch while he took the woman's pulse. Steady and strong. Relief hit him.
As did the fact that she was undeniably beautiful. Beautiful and hurt.
He'd not only seen her head crack against the asphalt, he'd heard it. Just the memory of it made him sick. Why hadn't she been wearing a helmet? With one hand, he lifted each lid, noting the startling blue of her eyes even as he professionally assessed her pupils. One big, one small. A concussion.
A siren screamed in the distance. He placed a hand under her head to feel for a bump—and felt a warm wetness.
Pulling his hand away, he wiped the blood on his jeans. A brief thought that he should have waited until he had gloves flashed through his mind, but he dismissed it. The woman had saved Will's life. He would do whatever he had to do to save hers.
Sounds rushed at him, and he realized people were gathering around them in a crush. "Hey, move back and let her breathe, will you? "
Several people complied. But the concerned conversations buzzed around him like a swarm of bees.
Startled, he watched his nephew reach out and touch the woman's hand then slip his small fingers into her palm.
Emotion gripped Dylan's throat and wonder exploded through him. But he didn't have to time to think about what Will's reaching out to her meant.
Dylan wanted to examine the wound on the back of her head, but didn't want to turn her neck. He ran his hands down her arms, his gaze once again drawn to Will's small hand in hers. Then back to business. Scrapes, bruises, a couple of gashes but nothing broken. He repeated his inspection on her legs. Same story.
His heart started to slow. No broken bones.
He glanced at her white face. No doubt along with the bad concussion, she'd have an even worse headache. Hopefully, that would be the extent of her injuries except for a few bumps and bruises.
The sirens continued to grow closer until the ambulance came into view.
A man stood in the street directing traffic. Two police cars pulled up and one of the officers took over. The other approached, a frown on his face. Spying Dylan, recognition dawned. "What happened, Doc?"
"Hey, Franco. She saved Will's life and got hit by a car for her trouble. The car kept going. Never put on the brakes, I don't think."
"Anybody get a plate? "
"I don't know. I know I didn't."
"I'm going to start taking statements."
Dylan acknowledged him with a nod and felt for her pulse one more time.
The paramedics pushed their way through the crowd, and Dylan recognized Lisa Bell and her partner, Sam Clark. Dylan told them, "We need a neck collar. She wasn't wearing a helmet and she took a hard hit to the head. Her pulse is steady, and there are no broken bones that I could feel."
The paramedics got to work on her. Soon she was ready for transport, and Dylan watched them load her up to be transported to the hospital about thirty minutes away in Bryson City.
Turning, he asked, "Who is she? Does anyone know?"
"Her name's Paige Worth."
Dylan eyed the man who'd spoken. Principal Tom Bridges. "Does she have any family that we can contact?"
Tom frowned and gave a shrug. "I don't know. I'll see who she listed on her application as an emergency contact. Today was supposed to be her first day on the job. She's my new guidance counselor."
The ambulance screamed off, and Dylan picked Will up to hold him and hopefully offer the child some comfort. "Okay." He studied his nephew. "I think Will is okay, but I'm going to take him to the hospital just to make sure, maybe have a couple of X–rays. I'll check on Ms. Worth while I'm there." He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to the man. "I know you can get my number from Will's file, but this will be easier. Please call and let me know who her contact person is." Dylan swallowed. "I want to talk to him or her."
Compassion lit the man's eyes. "Sure."
Dylan headed back to his house for his car, feeling Will's slight weight in his arms. Giving thanks for the life he held, a life that was almost cut short, he settled Will in his booster seat and wondered how he'd ever be able to pay Ms. Worth back for her selfless deed. He decided he'd pick up her totaled bike and keep it for her in case she wanted to salvage it for parts. He made a quick call to Principal Bridges, who assured Dylan that he'd hold the bike for him.
He started the car and pulled into the street. "Hey, Will, you all right, bud? "
Will simply met his eyes in the rearview mirror. Dylan sighed, wondering when the child would decide to speak. But even Will's counselor couldn't offer him a time frame. She just said they had to give him his space and time to heal.
Dylan noticed the car on his rear bumper. A car that looked suspiciously like the one that had almost hit Will. Dylan pressed the brake and slowed, giving the car the opportunity to go around him.
Instead, the vehicle slowed to keep the same amount of distance between them.
His pulse sped up and he swallowed hard.
Was he being followed?
Dylan put on his blinker and moved into the right–hand lane.
The car behind him did the same. Sweat pooled on his forehead as Dylan considered his options. He took a right at the next block. So did his tail.
The dark tint to the windshield prevented him from getting a good look at the driver, but it was definitely a male. He glanced at Will. The boy was oblivious to the possible danger, simply gazing out his window, trusting his uncle knew what he was doing.
Dylan flexed his fingers on the wheel and made the next turn that would take him to the police station two blocks away.
And the car behind him sped away.
There was no way to get a license number. He pulled into the police station parking lot and turned the car off.
Pulling a napkin from the glove compartment, Dylan wiped the sweat off his face and gathered his thoughts.
Should he go in and report the incident?
What incident? he mocked himself. Someone followed you a little too close, then turned off.
But the car resembled the one from this morning. "It was white."
Will looked at him with a frown, and Dylan realized he'd spoken the words aloud. With a sigh and a prayer, Dylan turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. His eyes swept the surrounding area and didn't notice the white car waiting on him.
The tension in his shoulders released its grip and he relaxed a bit. "Sorry for the winding route, Will. I just had to check something out."
The little boy didn't respond other than to rub his eyes as though tired.
Dylan may have decided not to report the incident, but knew he wouldn't forget it.
Pain. That was her first thought. Her first feeling. Her first moment of awareness.
It felt like shards of glass b...
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