Pregnant With The Paramedic's Baby. Amy Ruttan

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      Sandra had her wipers going at maximum speed, but she still couldn’t see through the rain that was coming down in sheets.

       I should’ve just stayed at the hospital.

      The thing was, her shift was over, Mr. McIver had died and after what had happened today she was emotionally drained. For the first time in a long time she’d decided to actually go home instead of lingering at the hospital, even though she hated going home to an empty house.

       You’re the one who bought a ranch outside the city.

      She hadn’t been thinking straight when she’d bought the ranch house on an old cattle range when she’d moved out here from San Diego. Although she’d always loved the country over the city. She’d had hopes of buying a large piece of land outside San Diego where her kids could grow and run.

      And her heart hurt when she thought about that.

      Kids.

      She desperately wanted them, but, after rounds and rounds of IVF treatments that hadn’t worked and too many miscarriages that had broken her heart, she knew that she would never have kids. She wanted to adopt, as she was adopted, but it was about the time she’d started the process of adoption her now ex-husband had suddenly announced that he didn’t want kids. And she’d realized Alex never had been the right man for her.

      She wanted kids and he didn’t, at least not ones that weren’t biologically his.

      And that was the reason he’d said he wanted a divorce: because he couldn’t open his heart to someone else’s child. He wanted his own and she couldn’t give him that.

      She’d had to walk away, though it had broken her heart to do so. It had been the right thing to do.

      Alex had made her feel, for an inkling of a second, that she had somehow failed as a woman. It had taken her a year to shake that thought of failure from her mind. Staying in San Diego and working with him had never let her truly heal. Which was why she’d bought this old ranch outside Austin and moved away from San Diego.

      There was no family keeping her in San Diego anymore. Her beloved adoptive parents were gone. It was just her and she had to do something for herself. So she’d decided to go to the place of her birth. To find roots, and what better place to find roots than a beautiful piece of land on the outskirts of the city?

      Of course, now, with this crazy rain, she was really regretting her choice of living outside the city.

      Sandra leaned over her steering wheel, trying to peer through the sheets of rain. Thankfully it wasn’t completely dark out, but the sun was setting behind the gray rain clouds. She had to get home soon, before it got dark and made it completely impossible to see anything.

      She slowed down as she approached a small one-lane bridge and pulled over as a driver coming in the opposite direction crossed over.

      There was a crack of thunder and a rumbling sound, which made Sandra’s blood run cold. She glanced out of her driver’s-side window in time to see a wave of mud washing down over the hill.

       Oh, my God.

      And there was nothing she could do. She just closed her eyes as the mud hit her car, tipping it over and over down the embankment toward the small creek that was swollen and overflowing with water.

      Her life, her lonely life, flashed before her eyes and she knew right then and there she was going to die.