Safe Haven. Hannah Alexander

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СКАЧАТЬ the extent of the damage.”

      “No need. I’ll be okay. I just need to get out and stretch my legs a little.” She closed her eyes and groaned again, lifting a shaking hand to her forehead.

      Taylor raised his voice to be heard over the screeches of the cat. “Ma’am, I’d like to check you over first.” He turned to Jim. “Would you go get my medical case out of the truck? I want to get her vitals and—”

      “My vitals are fine.” The victim’s voice deepened. “I just want some fresh air.” She reached down to unfasten her seat belt and fumbled with the release.

      “Here, let me help you with that.” Taylor leaned forward, but before he could assist her, she made her escape from the belt and turned to look into the pet taxi.

      He got a close-up view of a long, graceful neck above shoulders that were surprisingly broad and muscular for a woman. She wore cutoff jeans and a faded blue T-shirt, and her arms and legs were untanned, well-shaped.

      “It’s okay, Monster, you’re safe.” Her husky voice was suddenly melodious and soothing. “Cut the noise a minute, will you?”

      To Taylor’s amazement, the racket lowered to the growl of a stressed-out tiger.

      The woman turned back and looked up at Taylor. “Sorry about that. Is there a vet around the village anywhere? I’d like to get him looked at.”

      “Don’t you think we should concentrate on you first?” Taylor asked as Jim approached with the kit of medical supplies.

      “I told you, I’m fine.” She reached up and grasped the side of the door frame, then swung her feet to the ground. Her face and lips were pale except for the streak of blood that matched the color of her car.

      Taylor placed one hand gently on her shoulder as he reached for the bag Jim held out for him. “Ma’am, please humor me and remain seated for a moment. You don’t look fine. I’m a paramedic, and I’d like to make sure about you first. I need to ask you a few questions.”

      She blinked up at him, then frowned and looked pointedly at the gun hanging at his hip. “Since when do paramedics have to carry guns and wear ranger uniforms?”

      “When they’re also law-enforcement rangers. We’re short staffed.”

      She took a deep, audible breath and leaned against the steering wheel, meeting his gaze squarely. “My name is Karah Lee Fletcher, I’m on Hideaway Road in Missouri, and the date is Wednesday, June 11. Those were the questions you wanted to ask me, right?”

      “Done this before, have you?”

      “You might say that.” A hint of humor flashed across her expression and disappeared almost before he caught it.

      “I can see you’ve hit your head—did you experience any loss of consciousness?” Taylor continued to look into those eyes. They were more golden than amber brown. She had a high forehead and cheekbones, and a strong, firm chin line.

      She glanced away briefly at his question, and he noticed her hesitation. “Ma’am?”

      “Some.” Her voice grew irritable again.

      “Some? Any idea how long you were out?”

      “Couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. That racket in the back seat works better than a sternal rub.” She held her arm out. “Go ahead, take my blood pressure. It stays about 125 over 75. I already took my heart rate. It’s steady and normal. Respiration’s normal.”

      He pulled the cuff out of the bag and did as he was told, curbing his curiosity about her apparent medical knowledge. The cuff made a firm fit around her arm. She had a large frame for a woman, but in spite of her muscular form she didn’t look like a bodybuilder. He pumped the cuff and took the reading, nodded and released the pressure.

      “Elevated?” she asked.

      “It’s 140 over 85.”

      “Not bad after all this excitement,” she said. Her cheeks were gaining some color. “Now do you want to let me up?”

      “If you’d give me a couple more minutes, Ms. Fletcher, I’d appreciate it.” Why did he always have to get pushy patients in the middle of the night? “Have you had any alcoholic beverages this evening?”

      Her expression revealed her irritation, and the color in her face deepened. “A herd of deer ran me off the road, okay? I’m not a drunk driver. Do you smell alcohol on my breath?” She blew a puff of air into his face. All he caught was a whiff of onions. A strong whiff. “Just let me out of the car and I’ll walk a straight line for you.” She reached for the door handle to steady herself and scooted forward.

      “Not yet, please.” He leaned over her and palpated the back of her neck. “Sometimes you can be hurt worse than you think at the time. It’s always best not to take chances, Ms. Fletcher.”

      She gave a long-suffering groan. “It’s Karah Lee.”

      He frowned. “Excuse me?”

      “I go by Karah Lee, not Ms. Fletcher.”

      He pulled out his penlight and dropped to one knee in front of her so he could get a more level look. “I’m going to shine this light into your eyes briefly, Karah Lee.”

      She gave another sigh of impatience. “Go ahead, do your thing. I’m telling you, I’m fine. I’d like to see about my cat, though.”

      He checked her pupils, and they were equal and reactive. He looked at the wound on her temple, which could use some attention but was no longer actively bleeding. “You obviously haven’t been out of the car yet, right?” To his discomfort, the cat’s voice did seem to be reaching a higher decibel again.

      “No, but if you’ll give me a chance, I’ll go for it.”

      “I’m sorry, I’d like you to remain in the vehicle until we can get an ambulance here to do a more thorough—”

      “No.” Her voice was firm. “I told you I’d be okay. I am willing to sign a PRC form so you can release me without getting into trouble.”

      Taylor bit back a sharp retort. A Patient Refusal of Care form would release him from any liability if she should develop complications later. She sounded as if she was accusing him of trying to cover his backside.

      “Look, Ms. Fletcher, I’m not interested in covering for myself, I just want to make sure you don’t have any—”

      “It doesn’t look like there’s too much damage,” she said, gesturing toward the front of her car. “And I wasn’t speeding. I realize that the damage to the car isn’t always the best indication of injury to the occupants, but you’ll have to trust my judgment. I promise to check in with the local clinic first thing in the morning.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her words and a touch of irony in her gaze, and he wondered what that was all about.

      “By the way,” she said, “I tried to start the engine and it refuses to budge. Know of anybody I might call for a tow in the morning?” Her voice mingled with the cat’s in a grating duet.

      Taylor СКАЧАТЬ