“Depends on how cold you got,” the aging hippie said amiably as he pulled on heavy gloves. “You’re lucky I didn’t make the mistake of stopping at that other wreck.”
Josh was already on edge. When Elwood mentioned an accident, his instincts insisted he learn all the details. “What wreck? Where?”
“I passed it a quarter of a mile or so east of here, on the other side of the park. The car looks like it’s been there for a while. Probably crashed hours ago.”
“What car? What did it look like?” Josh almost grabbed the man’s thin shoulders through his padded, canvas jacket and shook him.
“Like a dead turtle,” Elwood said with a grin. “Some guy flipped over and landed sideways in a snow bank. Probably hitched a ride home and left the car. I’ll call the police and see if Chief Sheridan wants to send somebody out to check on it. You know Joe, don’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me more about the car. What color was it?”
“Beats me. There was a lot of snow covering it. All I saw was the undercarriage and a couple of tires stickin’ up.” He bent down to start hitching a chain to the towing hooks behind the front bumper of Josh’s van.
“Leave that,” Josh shouted, grabbing his arm and hauling him bodily back toward his truck. “Show me that other car.”
“Hey, man, I got dispatched to help you,” the other man said, twisting free. “If I go off on my own like you want, Velma’ll have a cow.”
“Then sell me your truck,” Josh demanded, reaching for his wallet. “How much?”
“Whoa. Hold on, son. You can’t afford to buy my wrecker, even if it is old. Now calm down and let’s get you pulled out of that ditch.”
Josh had always relied upon his wits to get what he wanted. Now, he was beginning to wonder if a more direct approach was warranted. He thought about trying to make off with the tow truck, but figured that wouldn’t be smart because he didn’t know exactly where Elwood had seen the wrecked car. Even if it wasn’t Whitney’s, someone else could be in trouble.
Rational thought provided the answer. He redialed the last number he’d called. A woman answered. “Velma?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Josh Smith, again,” he said. “Your husband is here but I need him to take care of another car before mine. Do you have any problem with that? I’ll pay for both calls.”
“It’s okay with me,” she said.
“Great. Thanks. Now tell Elwood yourself, will you, so he knows it’s okay to divert.” Josh handed over the phone.
“Okay, okay, hon,” Dill said, frowning, “but if you don’t hear from me in a few minutes, send the cops out here. The coffee guy is actin’ real crazy.”
Josh grabbed his phone out of the man’s hand and headed for the truck at a run. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“I can’t just leave my chain in the street. It’ll only take a minute to gather it up.”
“A hundred-dollar bonus if you come now!” Josh shouted.
“Well…”
“Five hundred. Cash!”
“Since you put it that way.” Elwood began to saunter back toward the wrecker.
Josh leaned out the half-open passenger door and yelled, “A thousand if you run.”
The incredulous driver was still grinning and shaking his head as he climbed behind the wheel and started the enormous truck.
His smile faded and his jaw dropped when Josh shoved a handful of crisp, hundred dollar bills into his nearest hand and roared, “Drive!”
*
There was that engine sound again! Whitney was so cold, so slow to react, she wasn’t sure she could muster enough energy or focus well enough to call for help.
She gasped in as much frigid air as she could stand and tried to shout. The feeble cry sounded as if it was coming from someone else. Someone far, far away.
“Help,” she tried again, this time able to put more force behind her shout. “Help me!”
To her relief, the vehicle didn’t roar past. It stopped. Idled.
She blinked, staring up at the side window that was now her roof. Was that movement? Yes!
The layer of fluffy snow was being brushed off. A bright light shone through and made her eyes water.
Someone was shouting. Calling her name. She’d been saved!
Tears flowed freely, streaking her face and wetting one cheek as gravity pulled them downward.
She heard a man yell, “She’s alive!”
All she could think at that moment was, “Praise the Lord, I’m getting a second chance.”
*
“We need to break this window,” Josh told the wrecker owner.
“That’ll drop glass all over her. Let’s get the fire department and do this right.”
“We can’t just leave her there. Look at her. She’s blue already.”
“But she’s moving. That’s a good sign.”
“Good enough for you, maybe, but not for me.” Josh took a firm hold on the only visible door handle and tried to budge it. The Mustang wobbled but stayed on its side.
“Here. Help me. Maybe we can get it back on all four tires.”
Elwood shook his head and raised both hands. “Best not move her. If she was hurt in the crash we could do more harm than good.”
Josh knew all that. He was an educated man. The problem was that his intellect had taken a backseat to his emotions and he wasn’t ready to relinquish control to his more sensible side.
When the truck driver jogged back to his rig and used his radio to call for police and fire assistance, Josh cupped his hands around his eyes to help him see and peered through the passenger side window again.
Whitney was no longer stirring. Her head had dropped onto her shoulder. He couldn’t be sure of her condition because her scarf had fallen against her cheek and was hiding most of her face.
His heart immediately clenched. “Whitney! Honey, look at me. It’s Josh. Whitney?”
She didn’t move. Didn’t even twitch. Either she had passed out or was asleep or…
The notion of losing her after everything he’d done to find her and tell her how he felt, was unacceptable.
His fist slammed into the window, over and over. It didn’t even crack.
Looking around for something, anything, hard and sharp, he came up empty. Hands in his pockets, he wondered if hitting the glass with his phone would work. Then his fist closed on his key ring. “Maybe.”
He held them tight with several bunched together and sticking out like a knife. The first blow didn’t work. Neither did the second.
“Whitney!” he cried, his voice filled with pathos and agony. “Whitney. Wake up!”
She didn’t move.
Behind him, Josh sensed Dill’s return. The man had brought a tire iron from the truck.
“You don’t have to hit it hard,” Elwood cautioned. “Safety glass breaks pretty easy if you use the right tool. The pieces should be small and kinda square. Just tell her to cover her eyes.”
“They’re covered,” Josh replied, so breathless he could barely function. “Here goes.”
*
The tinkling Whitney was hearing reminded her of tiny silver Christmas bells, perhaps like the ones Lily had fastened to each of the door wreaths she’d made for Main Street merchants.
Her thoughts drifted, then began to coalesce, as thin as ether, yet as intense as love could make them.
“Josh,” she whispered, imagining the impossible, thinking he was there beside her.
A gentle hand cupped her cheek and supported her head. She nestled into the palm, content with her fantasy. The cold began to fade. Warm, minty breath tickled her senses. She fought to open her eyes.
“Whitney?”
What a lovely dream, she thought. Josh is here. Josh is…
Her lashes fluttered. She opened her eyes ever so slightly. There was a physically powerful presence there with her. If this was a figment of her imagination, it sure looked a lot like her favorite barista.
“Josh?�
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“Hold perfectly still, honey. The fire department is on its way.”
She began to struggle. To regain her senses. To revert to her usual self. “I’m fine. Really. I just—can’t—get—this—stupid—seat—belt—undone.”
“You’re sure nothing is broken? The cold might have numbed an injury.”
“I wasn’t this cold when I first landed,” Whitney insisted. The urge to sink back into unconsciousness was strong. She fought it with her last ounces of strength and won. “I had plenty of time to take inventory.”
“All right.” He gently released her head and backed away. That was when Whitney saw he’d been hanging above her, half in and half out of the car.
In the distance she heard sirens that grew louder by the second. The rescue squad was coming. That was nice, but she wanted someone else much more.
“Josh! Don’t leave me.” It wasn’t a loud cry but it had the hoped-for result.
He stuck his head and shoulders back through the broken window. “I’m still here. Hang tight, Whitney. They’ll have you out in no time.”
Relief, coupled with more joy than she’d ever felt before, were enough to renew a portion of her normal sense of humor.
Shivering all over she nevertheless made a silly face at him. “Did you really just tell me to hang tight?”
“I didn’t mean…”
By this time Whitney was starting to chuckle. “Never mind,” she said, laughing quietly. “We’ll talk about saying what we mean and meaning what we say after they get me out of this car.”
*
Extrication took far longer than Josh wanted. Yes, he understood the need for care and for stabilizing her, just in case, but a pot of steaming coffee would have frozen solid by the time they finally lifted the love of his life from her mashed car and strapped her to a backboard.
An ambulance was waiting. Josh took Whitney’s hand and walked next to her as the attendants carried her to it.
“I told you, I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just cold, that’s all. I was wearing my seat belt, as you well know.”
“Let them check you out, honey,” Josh said. “I’ll stay right with you. I promise.”
He watched her icy lashes dampen with unshed tears. “How did you find me? How did anybody find me?”
For the first time since he’d mired his van in the slush, it occurred to Josh that he’d received the answer to his prayers, only not in the manner he’d envisioned.
“It’s a really long story,” he said, brushing bits of safety glass from her hair.
The attendants loaded her onto a gurney and slid it into the back of the ambulance. One of them tried to stop Josh from boarding. He resisted.
“You’d better let him ride with her or next thing you know he’ll be trying to buy your ambulance,” Elwood called out. “He thinks he’s Santa Claus or something.”
“Or something,” Whitney said quietly, reaching for his hand and holding tight as her tears finally slid past her temples to wet the white sheet beneath her. “I have a lot of apologizing to do.” She sniffled when she saw hurt in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Josh.”
“So am I, honey. All I wanted was to do a good deed.”
“I believe you. Your heart was always in the right place. It’s mine that was confused.”
I’m not confused anymore, though, she realized. The sight of Josh when she’d opened her eyes inside that frigid death trap had been the answer to more than her current prayers. Unless she was imagining things, and she didn’t think she was, he was the answer to those divine pleas that had come before—and those in the future.
The big story was no longer dependent upon the identity of Mr. Moneybags. The truly important information was warming her heart and making her soul sing praises to the Lord.
She was alive! And the man she loved was not only beside her, holding her hand, he had been the instrument of her rescue. God had used him to find her, to save her life. Anyone could have done it, yet in His wisdom, their heavenly Father had chosen to send Josh. To cement their shaky relationship with the glue of circumstances that had brought out the best in both of them and had demonstrated a love that could not be denied.
Closing her eyes as the ambulance headed for the highway that would take them to the emergency room in Manhattan, she clasped his hand and praised the Lord until fatigue and the swaying movement of the vehicle finally lulled her to sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
“There’s nothing like a few hours of sleep to give a girl back her energy,” Whitney said as Josh drove them back to Bygones.
He was so happy to have her out of the hospital and close beside him in the rental car, he couldn’t stop grinning. “Try thirty-seven hours.”
“It couldn’t have been that long. You’re exaggerating.”
“Okay. What day is this?”
“Um, Monday?”
“Tuesday.”
“It’s Christmas Eve? Already?”
“Sure is. I hope you have all your shopping done because like it or not, Christmas is almost here.”
“Oh, dear.”
He reached over and clasped her hand. “Hey, don’t sweat the small stuff. You can find just about any gift you need in Bygones.”
“Thanks to your generosity, I can,” Whitney said. The warmth of her gaze made him happier than he could ever remember being, even as a little boy. There was something about this town and its people that had gotten under his skin and made him realize what he’d been missing. No wonder his mother missed the place so much. And speaking of parents…
Josh cleared his throat. “I’m going to drop you at home like I promised your folks, then have Elwood return this rental car for me.”
“Okay.” The way she drew out her reply told him that she’d surmised more than he’d just told her.
“I need to go back to St. Louis for a few days and take care of some business in person.” He gave her fingers a tender squeeze. “I won’t be gone long.”
“Do you have to go right now? It’s almost Christmas.”
“I know. And I’m sorry about that. I’ll phone and let you know how things are progressing.”
“Things? What things?”
“Who wants to know? Are you back to being a reporter again so soon?”
“You did promise to give me a scoop so I could tell all in the next issue of the Gazette. We’ll publish a couple of days late this week to avoid having to work on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. It’ll be a weekend extra.”
“That should be perfect,” Josh said, elated yet trying not to show too much excitement before he had everything finalized. “I’ll give you more details as soon as you’re ready to work again.”
“I’m ready now,” Whitney insisted.
He laughed tenderly and cast her a loving glance. “I have no doubt. But don’t you think it would be best if you had your recorder and laptop at hand before I started citing details?”
“My laptop! It was in the car when I wrecked. It’s probably ruined.”
“Nope. I had your mother bring it to me when she visited you in the hospital so I could check it out. All your personal belongings have been rescued and are waiting for you at home—in perfect working order.”
“You think of everything.”
“I try.” He sobered. “Which brings me to my upcoming trip. There are some decisions that require me to be in the office for face-to-face negotiations. I hate to leave you when you’ve just gotten back on your feet but it can’t be helped. Please don’t be upset.”
“How could I be mad at a guy who not only saved my life but saved my whole hometown?”
“I was hoping you’d see it that way.” Josh was shaking his head as he pondered the events that had brought them together. “As amazing as it seems, I believe God had His hand in the whole process, start to finish. Of course, I didn’t know it at first, but looking back I can sure see that possibility.”
“Even your getting the van stuck and calling Elwood,” Whitney added.
“I was talking to Mom about that after I woke up in the hospital.”
“She agrees?”
“Absolutely. Plus, she has a theory about other elements of your role in all our lives.”
“I’m looking forward to hearing it.” He brought the rented sedan to a smooth stop in the Leigh driveway. “Do you want me to walk you in?”
He saw disappointment in Whitney’s countenance before she unsnapped the seat belt and yanked on the door handle. “Are you in that much of a hurry?”
“Sorry. I’m afraid I am.”
“Then go. I can manage.”
He wanted to tell her he loved her, the way he had when she’d been sound asleep in her hospital room in Manhattan. Now just wasn’t the right time or place. Whitney was an intricate part of his elaborate plans; plans he had finalized in his mind while sitting by her bedside and thanking the Lord that she had survived. It would all come together soon.
And, in the meantime, he had a million details that needed his personal touch, particularly since the upcoming holidays would keep many workers at home.
Josh waved as he watched her make her way to the door where Betty waited with open arms.
Whitney’s mother returned his wave, then nudged her daughter.
Josh almost piled out of the car and ran to Whitney when she turned and he thought he saw unshed tears sparkling in her emerald eyes.
She raised her hand and waved goodbye, looking as if her best friend was about to depart.
That thought settled in his heart and mind, warming him all the way to his core. He would like nothing better than to be her best friend—and husband—for the rest of her life.
Now, all he had to do was convince her.
*
Whitney let Betty shepherd her into the house. “I can’t believe Josh is leaving, just like that.”
“You had plenty of privacy on the drive home from Manhattan. Didn’t you talk at all?”
“Of course we did. He insisted he had to take care of some important business that couldn’t wait.”
“Well then?”
“Well, why couldn’t he delegate? There has to be someone else who’s been minding his interests while he played barista here in Bygones. Why can’t he let them handle his affairs for another week or so?”
Love Inspired December 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2: Cozy ChristmasHer Holiday HeroJingle Bell Romance Page 16