Crashing Into Tess

Other Works by Lilly Christine
Coming Soon
“The Right Kinda Bull”
Eva Smashing & Dashing

LIBRA PRESS
An Imprint of CreatesSpace

Libra Press is a division of Equilibria, LLC
Crashing Into Tess
copyright @ 2013 by Lilly Christine

All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
manner whatsoever without written permission except in
the case of brief quotations imbedded in critical articles
and reviews.

For publisher information, contact equilibria.llc (at)
gmail.com. Contact the author at LillyChristine13 (at)
gmail.com

Noor and Flor, for agreeing that I could do it,
Patty Jo, for all those encouraging Thai dinners,
Robin and Lani at StoryWonk, for diligent care and
feedback
AND
Marty, for unending support.

This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents either
are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or
locales or persons, living or dead,
is entirely coincidental.

Balancing an acrid cup
of cheap motel coffee and an
overnight bag, Tess Bamberger tugged the leash clipped to
Rhiannon’s collar, frowning at the cold drizzle falling from
a bleak, predawn sky. “C’mon girl, I’m getting wet!”

Unlocking her rental car, she
tossed her bag in amongst
duffels, books and computer equipment, almost blocking
the car’s rear window. Her retriever-collie mix hopped
across the driver’s seat and curled on the passenger’s seat.
“Good girl, Rhiannon. Just one more day.”
Ignoring muddy paw prints, Tess climbed in after her.
She’d driven endless miles of straight-grey ribboned
highway since she’d left her parent’s gracious Tudor-style
Villanova home two days earlier.

G
olden-tasseled cornfields of Ohio and Indiana had
turned to wheat and soy across long, lonely stretches of
Illinois. The sketchy radio reception had been unbearable;
angry talk show hosts alternating with terrible church
music. Then she’d found Rhiannon, alone and hungry,
wandering a Missouri interstate.
The matted, three-quarter grown pup had gulped the
remainder of Tess’s turkey sandwich after lunging into her
car, and the radio switched from static-y fifties oldies to her
sister’s favorite Stevie Nicks song. “It was fate, wasn’t it,
Rhiannon?”

Thumping her tail,
Rhiannon nosed Tess’s elbow,
tucking her chin on her denim clad thigh, gazing up with
adoring chocolate brown eyes. They passed through Kansas
City at mid-morning, and steady drizzle turned to torrential
downpour. Spray from passing eighteen-wheelers thumped
against the windshield, obliterating the road ahead.Tess
jumped with nerves each time, clenching her teeth,
continuing on.
I’m driving to a job that pays less than half
what I would have made in Montgomery County, and I
didn’t even consider Dad’s offer to buy into that Main Line
emergency clinic. Was I just being bullheaded, to prove that
I could do this? Am I trying to prove it to my parents, or
myself?
As the sky darkened, Tess’s sense of unease increased.
Her headlights were barely visible through a bleary
windshield.

Just after ten o’clock, garish lights of chain motels
around Colorado Springs beckoned. Feeling numb and
anxious, Tess reached down to the hip pocket of her worn
Levi’s, touching the outline of the apartment key Doc
Harnes’ wife Bea had sent. “No sense stopping for another
cheap motel room, Rhiannon. Green Junction can’t be too
much further, now.”

Jake McGreer nursed a ginger ale
at the bar at Green
Forks Tavern. From the jukebox, Kenny Loggins
complained about the fine timing of Lucille’s departure.
Thursday nights, the pool tournament was the only action
in town. It was late, he realized; the last pair was setting up
to break.

“What happened over there with your cue stick tonight,
Jake?” Alice teased from behind the bar. “Losing your
edge?”

“Oh, yeah, that would go over big with Lotts.” Rolling
her eyes, she wiped down the bar. “C’mon, a smart guy like
you, with two big ranches and a million head of cattle, the
ladies must be lining up for dates.”

Jake glanced over his shoulder to the almost empty
room. “Sure, they’re takin’ numbers.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t had offers,” she posed, arms
crossed, green eyes curious. She leaned her curves against
the bar.
Count on Alice to dig into this stuff.
“Well, there are
always offers. Mostly girls from high school, divorced like
me. It’s awkward. You can’t just date in Green Junction,
without raising expectations.”
“You ought to be with someone, Jake, mend that broken
heart.”
Scowling into his empty glass, he wished he’d changed
the subject sooner. “Not with my luck. I need another round
of alimony payments like a hole in the head. How about a
shot?”
Alice took bottles down from the shelf, swiping the
amber whiskeys, clear vodkas, rums and gins with a damp
cloth. ““You know you don’t drink, knucklehead. You’re a
great guy, and a real catch. There’s somebody perfect for
you out there. You’ll bump into her when the time is right.”
Jake shook his head. “That’s probably the last thing I
need.” Alice eyed him sympathetically. He ran a hand
through his thick dark curls, ready to talk. “I fetched Cassie
from school today, took her out to the ranch. We saddled up
for a trail ride, then I helped with her homework. After
dinner, we went back to Vicki’s place.” He swallowed. It
was hard to continue. “She gets this look on her face just
before she hops out of my truck.” Keeping his voice steady,
he said, “Watching her walk into that dinky apartment just
about kills me, Alice.” He picked up the empty glass, then
set it back down on the bar. “Maybe I should have tried
harder, stuck it out,” he sighed, then shrugged, “The
fighting really got to Cassie at the end, though.”
“You’ve done everything possible for that little girl,”
Alice said, eyeing his reflection as she set the bottles back
on the shelf. “You’re a great dad, Jake.” She turned to him,
cocking an eyebrow. “Fathers are getting custody a lot
more these days, y’know.”
He took his insulated cotton duck jacket from the coat
hook by the booths and set his hat on his brow, dead even. “
I can’t start up with the lawyers again. That’s just hell. I’ll
take my three long weekends and Thursday nights for the
time being, see how things go.”
“Hang out and keep me company while I lock up,
Jake?”
“Sure.”
Jake lifted the chairs and set them seat down on the
tables, so Lotts could mop up in the morning, then
shrugged his coat on. Alice turned to the last few guys at
the pool table. “Last call, guys! Anybody want a draft
before I shut down the taps?”
She pulled a few more beers and gave the winner fifty
bucks cash when the game ended, closed out the register,
and began to sweep behind the bar. “What time you up in
the morning, Jake?”
“Usually before five.” He finished with the last chair.
“Wow, burnin’ the midnight oil then, huh?”
“ I just have a load of cattle to run down to the south
ranch in the morning. I don’t sleep much these days,
anyway. Toss me your keys, Al, I’m gonna start my truck.
I’ll warm your car while I’m out there.”
Outside, it was raining; a chill, sleety drizzle. He went
back inside, helped Alice with her coat, waited while she
turned on the security lights, set the alarm, and locked the
door. The hum of his diesel engine was audible under gusts
of wind. It was just after midnight.
“Cripes, it’s only the last week of September,” Alice
said. “Too early for this frozen sleety stuff. Take it easy
getting home, okay?”
“Sure, Alice. Have a good night.”
His ranch was in the foothills, fifteen miles out of
town. Rain would make visibility poor, and it might be
snowing in the elevations. He’d better step on it.

Closing in on midnight, the back and forth
windshield
wipers lulled Tess into a daze. All day, she’d pushed away
the doubts that plagued her.
I wanted an adventure. This is
it,
she thought, stroking the silky fur on Rhiannon’s belly.
Tess felt the car slip into lower gear. The little four
cylinder engine whined as it climbed mountainous terrain.
Suddenly, she was alert and on edge. The rain was turning
to sleet, curdling on the road in front of her.
These tires are
probably worthless.

D
escending a steep incline, her wet brakes squealed.
Barely able to see, she slowed to a crawl. Her headlights
bounced off sheeting curtains of white. Finally, she made
out a sign:
Green Junction, Exit 19~ 5 miles.

The last five miles of the journey seemed to last
forever. Wind gusted on the exit ramp, catching the side of
the car, tugging the steering wheel in her hands. She
managed the curve, but the little car pitched into a steep
downhill grade. Unable to see the road through the
whiteout in front of her, Tess tapped the brakes. The car
fishtailed. She braked again, but her car was sliding
through a tunnel of white now, out of control. A stop sign
loomed, coming fast.

Tess stood on the brakes and the car spun, sliding
sideways. From the left, she heard a loud horn, the blast of
a diesel engine. Her screams echoed a screeching roar.
Headlights flashed across her dashboard as a big truck
slammed into her door, jamming her left hip, shoving the
flimsy car sideways.

When the truck finally came to a standstill, Tess’s head
whipped sideways, smacking the metal on the edge of the
car door. Flashing lights whirled, the dark vortex closed,
and then there was nothing.

Outside the truck, gusting wind sent frozen pellets
down Jake’s collar. A head of curly blonde hair was
slumped on the steering wheel of the little grey car he’d
hit. A white dog inside nudged the girl’s face, but she didn’t
move.
She’s unconscious, or worse. The doors are locked.
This rig could catch fire any second.

Grabbing an extinguisher and flares from behind the
seat of his truck, he dialed 911, counting the seconds until
the call center picked up. “Hey, Sherry, this is Jake
McGreer,” he breathed, trying to control rising panic. “I’m
at the intersection of exit 19 and Broad Street.” Setting
flares on both sides of the road, he relayed the particulars of
the accident. “Send a fire truck, too, just in case,” he
finished.
“You got it, Jake.”
Pounding the driver’s side window, he tried to rouse the

girl. The car’s windshield wipers squeaked madly; its
engine raced to a high pitched whine.
If I disconnect the
battery cable and shut the engine off, at least the car won’t
catch fire.
He fiddled with the badly mangled hood but
couldn’t get to the latch.
Damn!
He pounded the hood with
his fist. Interminable seconds passed. As he returned to the
girl’s window, panic twisted his gut. “Hey! Wake up.
C’mon, sweetheart, you’re scarin’ me!”

Freezing rain pelted his face as he grabbed a tire iron
from the truck, ready to break the windshield. But the girl
was picking her head up now, slow and groggy.
Thank God.

“I’m Jake. I’m trying to help you,” he shouted. “Can
you turn your engine off?” Responding unsteadily, the girl
twisted the key. The little car quieted. “Can you unlock the
doors?”

“Stay, Rhiannon. Stay here,” the girl cried, a raw edge
of panic in her voice. “I-I picked her up on the road. Sh-she
doesn’t know anything yet.”

“I can take care of the dog,” he soothed, kneeling so he
could see the girl. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Blood covered her sweatshirt. “I-I guess I
bumped my head on the side of the door.” Her voice had a
wondering kind of drowsiness, which frightened him. She
took her hand away from the side of her head. It was sticky
with blood.
“The ambulance is on its way. Look, I’m worried about
your neck and spine. Can you wiggle your toes?” he asked.
“Yeah, my toes are fine,” the girl nodded, still in a daze.
“Really, I’m okay,”
“Let’s let the ambulance crew decide that.”
He looked up the slippery road behind them. “Can you
put your hazards on in case someone is coming off the
highway? Move real slow... That’s it, just take it easy,” he
coached. When the hazards were blinking, he said, “I’ll go
get the dog. What’s her name?”
“Rhiannon.”
Jake clapped his hands, calling the butter-colored
retriever. The pup bounded over, following him to the
truck. Rooting on the dashboard, he found a half stick of
beef jerky. The silky pale dog jumped up into the cab,
wolfing it down as Jake dug behind the seat for his first aid
kit. “Good girl.”
Ducking back into the car’s passenger door, he clicked
the overhead light on. “How are you doing?” he asked
gently, leaning in to study her eyes.
At least her pupils are
contracting
.
“Really, I think I’m okay.” The girl’s voice was still
shaky. “Best I can tell, the cut isn’t too deep. There’s a lot
of blood, though.”
Jake tore the wrappers off gauze pads, handing her a
stack. “I hit you pretty hard. You were unconscious for a
while. You must have a bad concussion, and the way that’s
bleeding, you’ll need stitches. The hospital’s forty miles
back, in Salida.”
The girl was gazing at him through wide-spaced blue
eyes, set on high cheekbones. She had full lips, a pointy
chin, and too much blonde curly hair, full of blood. He’d
seen the car’s out of state license plates; her back seat and
trunk were full of gear. “Are you from around here?”
“No.” The girl shook her head, and took a deep breath.
“I’m just getting into town for a new job. I’m Tess. Tess
Bamberger. I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“Jake McGreer. I have a ranch a few miles out of
town.”
Her left hand pressed gauze against the cut on her head.
Blood ran down her forearm, but she held her right hand
out to him. “Well, you’re the first person I’ve met here, so
hi.”
He wrapped his hand around her ice cold fingers.
“Sorry we’re not meeting on better terms, Tess.”
She took the gauze away from her head. “Me too.”
Eyeing her worriedly, he handed her another stack of
bandages.
At least she’s not screaming at me, blaming me
for the accident, the way Vicki would.
A police car pulled along the shoulder, lights flashing.
Ronald Karachek was in the driver’s seat. He’d hoped
Sergeant Fuller would be on. Ron’s day job was
Department of Agriculture inspector. He was a part time
local cop, full time pain in the ass, and the last person Jake
wanted to see.
“Hi, Ron.”
Ignoring Jake, Ron shone his flashlight over the truck,
slowly examining the damage; the dent in the bumper, the
busted passenger headlight. Chest puffed out, he came to
the open passenger door. “What happened here?” Ron
snarled, sticking his blinding light inside the car.
Tess leaned forward. “I came off the highway too fast. I
didn’t expect the curve, lost control on the hill, and slid
through the stop sign. It was my fault.”
“You hurt?” The officer asked, flashing the light over a
pile of blood-soaked gauze pads.
“She’s got a gash on her head, and she blacked out for
few minutes,” Jake offered quietly.
“I asked her, not you. Step outta that car, Jake,” Officer
Ron demanded curtly. Obliging, Jake stepped to the
shoulder. “Where you coming from, buddy?” Ron growled,
shining the blinding flashlight in his face.
“Thursday night pool tournament,” Jake said evenly,
squinting from the light.
“Have a seat in your truck. I’m givin’ you a
breathalyzer.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No, I ain't!”
“Ron, we’ve got a concussed girl here, and no sign of
the emergency crew. Let’s stick to priorities, huh?”
“My priority is fully investigating this accident scene.
Now, go sit in your truck,” Ron snarled.
Cursing under his breath, Jake opened his truck door.
This is some hell of a night. Karachek’s been trying to nail
me since eighth grade football tryouts. I was quarterback
and he got cut from the team.
The fire truck pulled up, the ambulance right behind it.
The ambulance crew chief motioned for Jake to back his
truck so they could get to Tess, but Jake waited for Ron’s
nod before he complied.
Can’t afford to tick off the idiot
with the badge.
While first responders worked on Tess, Ron waved the
fire crew back to the station. Then he gave Jake a
breathalyzer test. “Inconclusive,” Ron gloated, packing the
kit up.
“You’re full of it, Ron. I drank two ginger ales tonight.
Alice will vouch for me,” Jake protested.
“I expect she will,” Ron smirked, walking back to the
police car. With a wide smile, he opened the door to the
cruiser. “But will the judge believe her?”
Refusing to take the bait, Jake watched the ambulance
crew pry the car’s driver side door open. His headlights
flashed on Tess’s skinny-legged blue jeans and white
hoodie, all covered in blood. She held an ice pack to her
head.
“How is she?” he asked, once the medic had fastened a
cervical collar around Tess’s neck.
“She’s refused transport to the hospital,” the paramedic
said under her breath, looking concerned. “Nothing’s
broken, but there’s a slim chance of cerebral hemorrhage.
We don’t want to take any chances, Jake. Her parents are
next of kin, but she doesn’t want us to call them.”
“She was unconscious when I found her. She needs a
CAT scan,” Jake agreed, squatting down next to the medic,
at eye level with Tess.
“Tess, you have a head injury,” he said gently. “I don’t
want to upset you, but if its serious, every second counts.”
Still dazed, her gaze wandered. Trying to make eye contact,
he said, “Tess, I feel some responsibility here. Why not let
the crew take you to the hospital for some tests?”
Her blue eyes turned to him, glistening with unshed
tears. “How will I get back here, Jake? I haven’t seen my
place yet, I don’t know my way around, all of my stuff is
here in the car. . .What about Rhiannon?” Her voice broke.
Dropping her eyes, she bit her lower lip, struggling to keep
it together.
“Look, nothing is as important right now as making
sure you’re okay,” he said softly, taking her hand. Her
fingers were still ice cold. “Your dog is in my truck, she’s
fine. If you take the ambulance to the hospital, I’ll follow
your car to the tow yard to make sure your stuff is secure,
and Rhiannon and I will come to Salida right behind you. I
can give you a lift back here when you’re finished with the
doctor’s. How’s that sound?”
“I’m not sure . . .” Their eyes locked for a moment,
until Tess looked down. When she met his glance again, she
looked annoyed. “Look, honestly, Jake, I don’t know you.
At all. And you just hit me. I mean, I appreciate what
you’re trying to do. . .” she sighed, “I just didn’t ask for any
of this.”
The paramedic jerked her thumb towards Jake. “My
cousin went to school with this character. Believe it or not,
he usually knows how to drive. Why don’t we take you in,
and let him bring you back? He’s a safe bet, I promise.”
“C’mon, Tess, this is really important. Even Ron the
cop will vouch for me, and he hates me. We need to be sure
you’re okay,” Jake said gently.
Tess looked around. The emergency crew all nodded
encouragement. She put her hand to her forehead,
squeezing her eyes shut. “Okay, if you promise this guy is
cool to drive me back here, I’ll go to the hospital.”
“That’s a good move, hon,” the medic said, laying a
hand on Tess’s shoulder. The crew wheeled a stretcher
around. Jake watched Tess swipe at tears, and felt a tug in
his chest.
She’s tough, just like Cassie.
“Where’s your cell
phone, Tess?” he asked.
She dug into the little bag at her hip and handed it to
him. After the crew had strapped her on the stretcher and
tucked a blanket over her, Jake bent to her. “My number is
under Jake and I called myself, so I have your number,
too,” he said, putting the phone in her hand.
“Thank you,” she half-winced, trying to smile. Her
head and neck were in a head stabilizer, her pupils dilated
with pain.
“I guess the crew has contact information for your
parents?” he asked. The medic nodded confirmation. He
turned back to Tess, touching her shoulder. “I’ll see you
when you finish with the doctors, okay?”
“Yup,” she nodded, sniffling. He squeezed her cold
fingers as the crew hoisted the stretcher into the ambulance.
“And don’t worry. You need to get checked out, but I’ll
bet you’re okay.”
The ambulance took off, bright red lights flashing
against the black sky. Ron Karachek glared from the patrol
car. Rhiannon’s whining turned to muffled yelps. In his
truck’s warm cab, Jake waited for the rollback, stroking
Tess’s dog to quiet her. Once the smashed car was locked in
the tow yard, he headed back to the highway, starting for
Salida.
2:33 am. I sure won’t be worth much when morning
rolls around.