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The Fairy Tale Bride(21)

By:Scarlet Wilson


She was getting angry with him now. Frustration was building in her and  he could see the pulse throbbing at the base of her neck.

"I can help you," he said quickly. "I can help you with the bridal  salon. You don't need to worry. If things go pear-shaped I can help you  out."

Her brow creased. "What? How?"

He shook his head. "Just know that I can help you. Don't worry. Don't worry about the celebrity wedding."

But his words didn't help. They seemed to have the opposite effect. She  threw up her hands. "But I don't want your help, Adam. I've spent five  years building up my business. I'm not looking for a knight in shining  armor. This is my place. Mine."

The screech came out of nowhere, followed quickly by a dull thud. Both  of their heads shot around towards the street outside. Adam didn't  hesitate. He was across the shop floor in seconds throwing the door open  wide.

There was a shout. Then a scream. Then a noise that chilled him to the  bones. A gut-wrenching howl. A woman was on her knees on the street,  bending underneath a car that was partly crumpled against a wall.

His stomach flipped over as he glanced at the man behind the wheel who  was slumped over the wheel of the car. He had seconds to prioritise and  he didn't hesitate.

He slid underneath the car, sending up a silent prayer about what he was  about to find. Even though the sun was splitting the sky outside, under  the car was shadowed. He moved gently, pushing aside the obvious signs  of a trashed stroller to get to the trapped little figure beyond. He  slowed his breathing, keeping calm whilst his fingers felt for a pulse.

The skin was warm, wet and sticky in places and he winced. He moved his  fingers, trying to find a pulse  –  any pulse in the little figure. His  brain shut out the peripheral noises. He focused completely on the  little person. No noise. Nothing. He couldn't get into the right  position to get what he really wanted. He shifted again, watching for  the rise and fall of a little chest.

A large shadow thumped down next to him. "Adam, I've called for the  ambulance and fire service. Let me know what you need." Dawson, the  deputy sheriff. He'd never been so glad to hear a voice before.

"A flashlight. Get me a flashlight."

There were a few shouts. Some rumbling around. He slid forward; part of  the engine had crumpled making it nearly impossible to find his way  between the wall and the child.

Finally  –  a pulse. He breathed a huge sigh of relief.

His hand moved to the chest as it moved rapidly up and down. The  flashlight thumped down next to him and he flicked it on. He pulled back  his hand and let out a sigh, moving his sticky hand to his nose. It  wasn't blood. It smelled like orange juice.

Another aroma was drifting around him. One that wasn't quite so sweet.  Gasoline. He could definitely smell gasoline and tendrils of smoke.

Two seconds later there was a shout. "Adam, that car's about to go. Get out of there!"

Two pairs of hands appeared at the fender, trying to pull and lift the  car up. Adam pushed up off the ground, straining his shoulders against  the weight above him in an attempt to move the crumpled wreck from the  little figure. He couldn't even contemplate doing anything else. No  matter what might come next.

*

Lisa couldn't believe what had just happened. The noise. The smoke. The  screams. Faye and Alice were staring out at the street open-mouthed and  she ushered them quickly towards the back of the shop.

And Adam, vanishing without a second thought under the car. Lisa pulled  out a pile of Sage's chocolates and put them on the table. "Don't eat  them all at once," she said quickly to the girls and went back to the  open door.

People had started to gather on the street. It took a few seconds for  rational thoughts to enter her head. She grabbed her phone from her  pocket and hit 911, requesting emergency services.                       
       
           



       

Dawson thudded down the street towards her and automatically bent down  under the car. "Who is under there?" he yelled. She might have guessed  he would appear. Dawson was never off duty.

"Adam," she said quickly.

"Who else?" Her brain was scrambled. The woman was still howling in  front of the car and she noticed something sticking out from underneath  the front fender. Oh no. A little wheel  –  like the kind you'd find on a  stroller.

A wave of nausea rolled over her. "A kid," she whispered. "I think it's a kid."

Someone appeared and put their arm around the woman, murmuring words of comfort and trying to pull her away.

Adam. Adam was under there. Should she help? But what could she do? And  there was no way she wanted to leave Faye and Alice unattended.

There was nothing like an accident to attract attention. Some of the  reporters covering the celebrity wedding started to appear. Most of them  were just talking under their breath.

The sound of sirens in the distance gave her a sense of relief. Help. That's what was needed. Help.

Dawson started shouting around. Looking for a flashlight. She ran back  into the shop and pulled out one from the under the counter. She used it  occasionally to find things at the back of the stock cupboard. She  grabbed it and rushed outside, throwing it towards Dawson who put his  head under the car again.

He was looking worried. Lisa blinked back tears. She had no idea what Adam was dealing with under the car. She hated to think.

Then something hit her. A smell. A smell of petrol. It seemed to hit all  the surrounding spectators at once. People started to panic.  Particularly when a wisp of white smoke appeared from under the hood.

Dawson yelled, "Get over here," to a couple of the bystanders. "We need to get this car off the kid and the doc."

"Get out, Adam," Lisa shouted. She'd no idea where that had come from.  Something was pressing against her chest. Adam was under a car that was  leaking fuel and could go on fire at any second. He had to get out. He  had to.

She wanted to rush over. She wanted to help. But there was no way she  had the strength to lift a car. There were six men now, all straining,  their faces getting redder by the second.

The smell of fuel was getting stronger. Blue flashing lights appeared at  the end of the street, the local patrol car kicking up dust as it  skidded to a halt on the street with the Marietta ambulance right behind  it. Toby, the sheriff was out in a flash, standing shoulder to shoulder  with Dawson to join in the rescue effort.

"Where's fire and rescue?" Dawson asked.

Toby shook his head. "Out at a fire at one of the ranches  –  they're at least fifteen minutes away."

Within a few minutes the driver of the car had a neck brace in place and  was manoeuvred out of the car and into the back of one of the  ambulances. She had no idea who he was  –  didn't recognize him, or the  car, at all.

"Who is under that car?" The reporter that had been pestering her in the diner at few days ago sidled up to her.

"Adam Brady  –  the doctor," she said quickly, turning her back again and focusing her attention back on the accident.

"One, two, three, go!" The voices came from the group of men assembled  around the car. The paramedic was face down on the ground, obviously  working with Adam. But the car didn't seem to be moving.

Someone appeared with a hose, connecting it to a point in one of the  nearby stores and starting to wet down the ground around the car.

Lisa turned quickly to make a quick check on the girls. They were  oblivious. Lost in the land of fairy princess dresses and chocolate.  Thank goodness.

She dropped to her knees, trying to get any kind of view of what was  happening beneath the car. It was nearly impossible. There were more men  crowded around the car now, willing to lend their muscles to the job.  Between the thick calves and boots she could barely glimpse Adam  –  only  see part of his shoulder and the back of his head.

Someone signalled again. "Now!"

This time the crumpled car did move. A thin piece of plastic must have  been wiggled under the car and under the little boy, because once the  car was lifted clear by a few inches the little boy was yanked clear.

Adam rolled out from under the car, not even glancing in her direction, but getting directly to work.

The little boy was conscious and wailing loudly. The noise gave  simultaneous relief and anguish. He was alive. He was responsive  –  but  he was obviously in pain.

The reporter nudged into her. His eyes widened as he stared at his  mobile phone. "Got it. That's who he is. I knew it. I knew I knew his  face."

Adam was safe. The kiddie was safe. Everyone moved quickly away from the  car just as the smoke started to thicken and some of the locals started  covering the car in water.