Pregnant With The Paramedic's Baby. Amy Ruttan

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      “No, my head,” she murmured. “And I seem to be stuck in my seat belt.”

      Kody handed her a knife. “I can’t climb in there—if I do it might dislodge the vehicle and it and you will tumble down into the water.”

      She nodded and took the knife, sawing away at her seat belt; sliding a bit, she held her own and grabbed her purse, snaking it around her body.

      “Take my hand,” Kody said.

      Sandra reached up and he carefully helped her out of her SUV and into his arms. He held her close and backed away from the SUV and out of the mud. Just as they got back onto the pavement, there was a crack and her SUV continued its tumble down the embankment.

      She buried her head in his neck and let out a whimper as he held her close.

      “It’s okay. I got you.” His heart was hammering, and he was trying to catch his breath. All he could do was stand there and hold her. It was comforting to hold her, and he didn’t want to even think about what would’ve happened had he not been here.

      “We should get out of here,” Sandra murmured, but still holding on to his jacket, her body still curled up tight against his chest.

      “You’re right.”

      “I live just on the other side of the bridge. Down Denham Road.” Her voice shook as she spoke, and he didn’t blame her.

      “The bridge is washed out, but I know another way.” He carried her to his car and helped her get settled into the back. He opened his trunk and tossed his tools back in there, before grabbing a blanket.

      He climbed into the driver’s seat and handed her the blanket. She was wadding up some tissues for what looked like a superficial head wound.

      “Thanks,” she said, her voice trembling.

      “You’re safe. Let’s get you to your house and then I can call the team and tell them you’re safe and I’ll make sure that’s just a superficial wound.”

      “Thanks.” She held the tissues against her forehead.

      “Sorry about your vehicle,” he said.

      “It’s just my SUV that’s totaled,” she muttered. “That’s a small price to pay for my life.”

      Kody nodded, but his pulse was still racing. He couldn’t believe she’d been so close to death like that, and the thought of her losing her life terrified him and he didn’t know why.

       Probably because you know her and you watched it happen.

      Kody pulled away from the scene of the mudslide and took his time making his way carefully down the road and turning down the other road that led to Denham, but the moment he turned the corner, it was gone. The road was washed away and Burl’s Creek now looked like an angry river gurgling and rushing past them.

      “Well, I guess we can...” There was a rumble and Kody watched in horror as the road behind them washed out. They were trapped on a small stretch of road and Burl’s Creek was inching toward them.

      “We have to go on foot. There’s a small cabin not far from here. It’s on the edge of my property. It’s high ground,” she said.

      Kody nodded. Sandra helped him grab what he needed from his truck, but it was hard for her since one hand was holding the now-wet blob of tissues against her head wound.

      “Just lead the way, Sandra. I’ll follow,” he ordered.

      Sandra nodded and headed up a trail off the road, higher than the river, up onto the range. It was a slippery climb, but she seemed to know her way up the stony embankment, through the cottonwood trees, and eventually they were out on the plains. It looked as if it was an old cattle ranch.

      “My house is in that direction, but we’d have to cross the water to get to it,” Sandra shouted.

      Kody nodded, but he couldn’t make it out, not through the rain, which was getting heavier. However, she had led them right—there was a cabin about five hundred feet away and they should be safe there, provided he could get a fire started and figure out a way to contact help.

      “Let’s go.” He slung his pack of supplies over his shoulder and without thinking he took her hand and led her through the wind and rain to the cabin. She pulled out her ring of keys and unlocked the door.

      Kody followed her in.

      The cabin was dark, but it was dry, and it was shelter.

      “There’s no electricity yet,” she explained through chattering teeth. “I was planning on having it renovated soon, to rent it out.”

      “It has a fireplace, so I can get to building us a fire.” He set down his bag and Sandra sat on a sheet-covered chair, pulling the damp blanket around her tighter.

      He pulled out his fire starters and was relieved that there was a bit of wood still in the cabin, so it would be dry. He knelt down and built a pyramid and set his homemade fire starters under. It didn’t take long before they had a fire going.

      He pulled off his jacket and set it on the floor, while he rummaged in his bag for some rope. Something they could hang their wet clothes on so the fire could dry them. He pulled out the twine and set about making a makeshift clothesline.

      “You’ve thought of everything,” Sandra said. She was visibly shivering, and the tissue was blood-soaked and wet under her fingers.

      “Come closer to the fire and I’ll check out that wound.”

      “It’s superficial,” she said.

      “Dr. Fraser, get over here. Now.” He shook his head and she came closer to the fire and sat on the floor in front of him.

      “I’ve never heard you be so forceful before,” she said and there was a twinkle in her eye, like one he’d never seen, and she was smiling. He liked her smile.

      “I think you have a concussion,” he said dryly.

      “Why do you say that?”

      “You’re joking with me.” He smiled at her and she laughed softly.

      “I don’t think it’s a concussion. I think the adrenaline is wearing off.”

      “So you’re saying it’s nerves?” he asked.

      “I don’t know.” She laughed. “Thank you for saving my life.”

      “It’s my job.”

      “Still, if you hadn’t been there...” She trailed off and he knew what she was thinking because he thought it too. She would’ve died.

      “Hold still,” he said as he gently peeled away the wet tissue to examine the wound. She was right, it was superficial, and it had mostly stopped bleeding.

      “Superficial, isn’t it?” she asked.

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