Holding Out For A Hero (The Five Sisters Series)

BOOK: Holding Out For A Hero (The Five Sisters Series)
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Holding Out For A Hero

 

 

 

V A Browning

 

 

 

All rights reserved.

 

 

 

No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

 

This book is a work of fiction.

 

Any names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

 

© VA Browning, 2012

 

Join me at my blog:

 

http://www.vabrowning.com

 

 

 

Table Of Contents

 

Chapter 1

 

Chapter 2

 

Chapter 3

 

Chapter 4

 

Chapter 5

 

Chapter 6

 

Chapter 7

 

Chapter 8

 

Chapter 9

 

Chapter 10

 

Chapter 11

 

Chapter 12

 

Chapter 13

 

Chapter 14

 

Chapter 15

 

Chapter 16

 

Chapter 17

 

Chapter 18

 

Chapter 19

 

Chapter 20

 

Chapter 21

 

Chapter 22

 

Chapter 23

 
Chapter 1

Mike saw the wreck as soon as he crested the hill. It was a silver Lexus, smashed all to hell, but the telephone pole wasn't hurt too badly. He hoped it was not a fatality; he was not sure that he could handle that. He quickly pulled the truck over and stopped, jumping out and wishing he had his medical bag with him. As he ran toward the car, he could see small flames starting up underneath the front end. He also saw a person in the driver's seat that had been knocked unconscious; her head had bashed against the car door window. He quickly tried the door, but it would not open.

 

Standing back, he kicked the window with all his might. He knew it would be the only way, and with the flames, he didn't have time for anything else.

 

The window broke, and her body pushed away from the window with the force. At least she was wearing her seat belt. He felt her neck for a pulse, and found it, even though it was very faint. He breathed a sigh of relief. He grabbed the door handle and opened it, then quickly cut the seat belt open with his pocketknife. He cradled her head as he scooped her up and pulled her away from the seat. Once he had her head stabilized on his shoulder with one hand, and the other holding her bottom, he started running toward his truck which was about 50 yards away. He did not want to be there when the car exploded.

 

Just as he reached his truck, the car burst into a fiery flame that pushed him forward into the side of the truck. He ran around to the other side to shield them from any flying parts, and tried to open his door. While he was holding the girl, he noticed a small brown and tan longhaired Yorkshire terrier dog running around after him, following him. The dog must have been in the car with her, and probably belongs to her.

 

It was difficult to open the door, especially with a woman over his shoulder with injuries he was not sure about. He finally got the door opened, then he pushed his groceries off the back seat onto the floor with one hand. He gently laid her down in the backseat, carefully on her back, and using the paper towels and any other items he could wedge her in with, he propped her up hoping she would not slide.

 

He jumped into the driver's seat and the little dog followed him. As he started driving away, the dog scrambled to the backseat to be with his owner. As Mike drove, he called the sheriff to tell him what had happened and what he was doing. He knew it would be the gossip all over town, and he didn't want that kind of publicity, but he could not refuse to help.

 

He drove slowly toward his ranch. The ranch was another 10-minute drive, and he did not want her to have any further damage to her neck or back—he was afraid of what might have already been damaged.
She groaned a little, and that made him glad to know she was still breathing. He had dealt with trauma for the last 10 years, and he knew how to take care of her in a hospital. But his ranch was another story. Problem was, there were no hospitals within an hour drive, which was why he liked it here. She was lucky he had driven up on the accident when he did; another minute or two and she would have been dead. But he didn't want to think about what-if's now.

 

As he pulled into his driveway, he had already taken an inventory of what he had in his house to care for her. Much of his emergency room equipment was stored elsewhere, but he probably could find his stethoscope and bandages, too, even if they ended up being towels. He stopped at the door, pulling up close enough so he could carry her without a lot of fuss. He would put her in the guest bedroom downstairs so he could sleep on the chair nearby until he knew what her condition was.

 

He opened the house, and gingerly picked her up again. She was still unconscious, and her head and arms had many cuts and bruises. As he walked in, the little dog followed him, its nails making a
clickety
-clack sound on the wood floors of the log cabin. Mike made his way to the guest bedroom, and laid her on the bed. He gently placed a blanket underneath her to keep from getting the sheets dirty so he could put her in the bed after she was cleaned up. Being a doctor, he started to clinically evaluate her. He removed her clothing, having to cut some of it off so as to not hurt her any further to look for further damage, then looked closely at her head. She moved all of her limbs sporadically, so he didn't think she had any spinal cord damage. He covered her with a blanket, then left to find his tools.

 

The little dog curled up at the woman’s feet and started licking her. Mike returned a couple of minutes later with a washcloth, bucket of water and soap, stethoscope, and bandages. He knew he needed to prevent any infections because he did not have any antibiotics for her. He started with her arms, removing glass from her cuts as he washed them. The little dog just stared at him, but did not seem to mind Mike tending to his owner. She was still breathing, and appeared to be in a state of unconsciousness post trauma. As he started to clean her face, her eyes fluttered open. They were a gorgeous blue color, the color of the ocean in the Caribbean, he thought. With her dark brown hair and luscious lips, she was a knock-out. But they closed back just as quickly, and he could tell she was starting to go into shock.

 

With more blankets added to keep her warm, he and sat and continued to clean her face and body uncovering her nakedness just a little bit at a time. He tried not to notice her perfect breasts and smooth skin and just work as a doctor. 

 

She had a small gash over her left eye, and he pulled out the small kit he had to bandage her up. He hated the thought that he might not do it the best and that he would damage her flawless skin, but she needed it covered and closed.  He would rather do it now before she awakened, to avoid pain and to keep his focus on work and not on her body. He used butterfly closures so he didn’t have to use the stitches he had in the kit for her forehead, and he hoped that would preserve the porcelain skin and not leave a scar.

 

He then started feeling through her long and flowing brown hair for damage. He could not easily tell what was wrong in the area over her ear, and made the decision to cut her hair where she had hit the window.  Mike knew it was the right thing to do, but it pained him to cut her soft hair, and as he ran his hands over her skull searching for other wounds, his body reacted to touching her.  Finally he decided to remove some, and with his scissors, he carefully cut the hair out over her left ear, about 5 inches up. As he cut, he could see the head wound that needed to be cleaned, washed, and stitched up. As much as he hated it, he shaved the area around her gash, cleaned it, and sewed it up well, after making sure she had no more glass in it. Once he had her completely checked out, he removed the blanket from under her and gently covered her again to keep her warm.

 

But she continued to shiver from the shock her body was going into, so he removed his shirt and lay with her against him for warmth. He held her for about 30 minutes until her shivers stopped. She was very lucky, and it appeared that she had no broken bones, but he was not sure how bad the head injury would be. He felt she would recover based on his past experience, and he suspected her dog was not going to leave her side until she woke up.

 

He went out and got his groceries, and put them away as he listened closely to her sounds. He called the sheriff after she finally seemed to be in a relaxed and sleeping state, and told him what he knew of the situation. He informed the sheriff that she was not awake, but that he would call him immediately when she woke up so she could be interviewed. The sheriff said there was nothing identifiable about the car left, and he was hoping she could tell them what happened.

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