by Amanda Tru
Unfortunately, that’s where the truth in this story ends. Things did not turn out nearly so romantic for my friend, and I have never in my life attempted matchmaking. Thankfully, there were no lasting effects from my poorly executed joke. My friend quickly forgave me and went on to be my roommate in college. She remains one of my best friends today.
And don’t worry, she got her revenge. I think sending me a letter from a rather notorious magazine requesting my modeling services was payment enough, especially when that letter was delivered in English class and passed around to every other student before I got to see it.
Have you ever done something that, even years later, causes you to cringe in embarrassment at the memory? This is one of those experiences for me.
I’ve heard it said that nothing bad ever happens to a writer, it’s all just material. While reliving the vivid memory of this experience, my imagination got to turning, thinking . . . what if it had turned out well? Thus, the idea for this book was born.
Now that I have completed my humiliation by confessing to all of you, I would also like to include a reminder. At the time, I wanted to bury my head in the sand and pretend I had never, even inadvertently, done something so shameful. Little did I know that God would be able to use that bad experience as fodder for me to write this book. You see, I don’t think it’s just authors. If you’re letting God have it all, even you at your absolute worst, then it’s all just material in His hands.
“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28
Other books by Amanda Tru:
YESTERDAY series:
Yesterday
The Locket
Today (Coming Soon)
The Choice (Coming Soon)
TRU EXCEPTIONS series:
Baggage Claim
Mirage
Point of Origin
Christian Romance:
Secret Santa
You can find Amanda Tru on Facebook or at her blog!
http://www.facebook.com/amandatru.author
http://amandatru.blogspot.com
Please continue reading . . .
Sneak Peek of
Yesterday
A Christian Romantic Suspense/Time Travel Romance
Book 1
Chapter 1
Red flashed against the bright white of the snow.
I slammed on the brakes. The SUV skidded toward the guardrail.
My heart seemed to stop. I couldn't breathe. My body felt suspended as the mountainous terrain whirled across my vision. I braced for impact. Unexpectedly, the vehicle lurched as the tires found traction and came to a sudden stop
I sucked in air. My eyes frantically searched the heavy snowfall.
What had I seen?
Was it human?
Had I hit something?
The Sierra mountains were shrouded in the stillness of the winter storm, silent and revealing no secrets. Had I just imagined something dart in front of me?
I caught a glimpse of a fist out of the corner of my eye. I jumped. A strangled scream escaped my throat as the fist started hammering on my window. Heart thumping, I peered beyond the relentless pounding to see the outline of a woman in a red parka. She was screaming, but I couldn't understand her words.
Fingers fumbling and shaking, I rolled down my window. At her appearance, an electric current of shock ripped through me.
Blood streamed from somewhere on her head. It trickled down to her chin, leaving a dark red trail. Dirty tears streaked her cheeks, and her hair hung in clumps of frizzy knots.
I frantically jerked open my door.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
But she didn't answer. Instead, she continued to scream, her hysterical cries now slicing through me.
“Help! Help! Please help me! I can't get them out!”
What was she talking about? My eyes traced an invisible line to where she was gesturing. A few yards in front of my own fender, the meager guardrail was bent and scraped. Peering through the falling snow, I could see beyond that to where the frozen earth had been torn up. Standing on the frame of my car door, I looked into the embankment off the side. Red taillights glowed like beacons.
The shock to my senses was like a physical blow. I sprang out of the car, stepping into a blood stained patch of snow. Blood had dripped from the woman's leg where her torn pants exposed a jagged wound. Her sobbing and frantic cries continued, but she wasn't making sense.
Her skin was chalky green. She was in shock, yet I felt paralyzed. My medical background consisted of a three hour CPR and first aid class I'd taken over a year ago. Panic washed over me like a wave. I didn't know how to help her!
Desperate, I gently pushed her towards the backseat of the SUV. Her feet shuffled forward two steps, and then she collapsed. I caught her around the shoulders and practically drug her ragdoll frame to the backseat.
She roused enough to help as I lifted her into the backseat. I unraveled the scarf from my neck and wrapped it around her leg above the bloody gash, tying it as tightly as I could.
Reaching into the back of the SUV, I located a large flashlight and my old coat that I used when skiing. I wrapped the arms of the coat loosely around her leg, hoping the bulky material would soak up some of the blood.
"What's your name?" I asked the woman.
She cleared her throat and shook her head, her brow creasing with confusion. Instead, she began a new litany of faint but frantic cries about her family.
“You can tell me later. I’m Hannah."
"Help! My family . . .!"
"I'm going down into the ravine right now. Stay here. I’ll help them. I promise.”
Hoping I didn’t just make a promise I couldn’t keep, I shut the door and tripped my way through the snowdrifts toward the red haloed taillights.
I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket. There usually wasn't cell phone coverage on this road. But, just maybe . . .
No service.
This wasn't supposed to be happening! I should be at my sister's lodge at the top of the mountain not crawling down a steep embankment to help accident victims!
It wasn't even supposed to be snowing! I’d checked the weather report at least a dozen times: no new snow for the next week. Now it was practically a blizzard!
I took deep breaths, trying to control the panic and adrenaline running through my veins as I half climbed, half slid down the incline. This wasn't me. I'm not the brave sort. In fact, I'm pretty much a wimp!
I was facing the risk of a serious panic attack even before any of this had happened. The rational part of my brain said my fear was ridiculous. The roads were supposed to be clear. I'd driven to Silver Springs many times before. And, I was driving the biggest meanest, previously-owned SUV an over-protective father could buy for his college-age daughter. Despite my best rationale, my hands were sweating, my heart was beating erratically, and I was still at the bottom of the mountain.
But those symptoms were nothing compared to what I experienced now. When my eyes collided with the blue sedan at the bottom, I wanted to turn around and run. The front of the car was wrapped around a tree. How could anyone survive an accident like this?
The gas station attendant’s ramblings from earlier replayed in my head like a bad movie. Something about a tragic accident on this same road five years ago. The family had all died.
Taking a deep breath, I felt renewed determination run through my veins as it hitched a ride on an abundance of adrenaline. I had to do this.
“Hello, can anyone hear me?” I called as I slid the last few feet to the bottom of the ravine. My wrist scraped over some exposed branches on the way down, but the pain didn’t register. I called again, louder.
No answer.
I didn't want to do this! I didn't want to see the scene inside the mangled car. I drew in a shaky, hiccupping breath.
Reaching the driver’s side door, I shined the flashlight inside. The beam f
lickered in my shaking hand. I counted three passengers, motionless and unresponsive to the bright light. My stomach flipped as the beam caught blood marring each pale face.
I bent over, hyperventilating and gasping for breath. I couldn't do this! They were probably already dead! I closed my eyes. "Please, God, I can't do this! Help me!"
I released my breath slowly, then quickly swung my flashlight back inside before I lost my nerve.
The driver must be the injured woman’s husband. In the back seat were two children. The girl I guessed to be about 7; the boy about 5. Though I put all my weight into it, neither door on the driver’s side would budge.
I rushed around to the other side, climbing into the mom's empty seat. Reaching into the back seat and searching for the girl’s pulse, I sighed in relief. She was alive—unconscious but with a strong pulse. I climbed further over the seats and reached for the boy. Another pulse! New energy and determination surged through my veins.
Finally, I leaned over to the dad for a pulse. But I already knew the answer. The front driver’s side had taken most of the impact. No one could survive in his position. To my surprise I felt a slight bump against my finger. It was very faint, but the man was alive . . . at least for now.
I tried to focus. What could I do? I could drive to the lodge and get my sister, Abby, and her husband, Tom, to come help. We could use the phone at the lodge to call for medical assistance. Then we could get some of the other lodgers, come back and . . .
I shivered, feeling the freezing cold seep through my coat. It would be too late. I closed my eyes. A sob of fear and frustration caught in my throat. We wouldn't make it back in time. They couldn't survive their injuries or these temperatures for very long. I couldn't leave them. It was all up to me.
I tried not to think. I tried not to feel. I just acted.
The door by the girl opened easily. I unbuckled her seatbelt, took a deep breath, and hoisted her in my arms. She stirred and moaned slightly.
“I’ve got you. You’re going to be alright,” I cooed softly as I struggled through the drifts and still-falling snow back up the ravine.
My arms burned with the effort and my labored breathing came in short gasps. Just when I thought I couldn't take another step, I finally reached the SUV. Gently, I placed the girl in the backseat beside her mother.
“Maddie! “The sobbing woman gathered her daughter into her arms.
“I think she’s going to be okay," I said, shocked the woman was still conscious. "I have to go back for the others.”
Knowing every minute counted, I hurried back to the ravine and climbed into the backseat of the car. I unbuckled the boy’s seatbelt. He stirred and groaned, his eyes fluttering open.
“Hi, I’m Hannah. I’m going to get you out of here. Where are you hurt?”
“My legs and my head.”
The driver’s seat was pushed up against him. We both had to work to free his pinned legs. Grunting and groaning, I eventually dragged him out.
Even though this was my second trip back up the ravine, the boy was much easier to carry. Because he was conscious, he wasn’t the dead weight his sister had been. As he held on to my neck and buried his face in my hair, I learned his name was Timmy and his favorite thing was fire trucks.
When I put Timmy in the back seat of the SUV, I saw that his mom was struggling to remain conscious.
I faced a moment of indecision. The man might already be dead. It had been tough carrying the kids, and I had no idea how I was going to get a large man up the ravine. Besides, if I took the time to get him, it might be too late for the mom.
Hesitating, I realized it wasn’t really a decision. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try. Having a sudden epiphany, I opened the back of my SUV and removed a tow rope and a tarp.
Since I'd always had a healthy fear of just about every worst case scenario, I took serious the motto, “Always be prepared.” My phobias insured I had well-stocked emergency supplies. I’d just never imagined this situation was one I’d need to prepare for.
When I got to the sedan, I found the man’s pulse still barely registering life. It was probably good he was unconscious. He was stuck. I pushed and pulled, trying not to think about any other pain or injuries I may be inflicting. I had to get him out.
He wasn't budging even a little. Panting and sweating, I tried to catch my breath. But it kept coming in short gasps.
I couldn't do it! Great sobs scraped past my throat. I was losing it!
“Please help me!” I prayed desperately, yelling at the top of my lungs.
I crawled over him, kicking and punching his seat like a madwoman.
To my shock, the seat broke. I quickly removed the seat back, using the space to pull the man from behind. His lifeless body finally slid from its cage.
Breathing heavily, I dragged him out of the car and onto the tarp I had positioned. I wrapped the tarp around him and tied one end of the rope under his arms. Grabbing the other end, I pulled. The tarp slid across the snow.
Even with the tarp, the man was dead weight. I’d heard that adrenaline had been known to give a person superhuman strength. That and some divine assistance is the only explanation I have for how my 5’6’’ frame was able to drag that man uphill out of the ravine and then lift him into the rear of the SUV.
Finally back inside my SUV, my frozen fingers gripped the steering wheel in terror as I drove through the snow. The woman was unconscious now. I had to get to the lodge.
Timmy was the only one conscious. He was amazingly calm. We talked about his Christmas list. From Hot Wheels to remote controls, Timmy wanted such variety of cars and trucks that Santa would have his work cut out for him.
My breath caught with relief as I saw lights of Silver Springs through the swirling snow. Stopping in front of the lodge, I jumped out. Frantic, I yelled, banging my fists on the front door. An elderly man I didn’t recognize opened it.
I don’t remember what I told him. Everything I said seemed like gibberish in my head, but he apparently understood.
“Go get McAllister!” he called to an older woman near the stairs, explaining to me that a doctor was vacationing at the lodge.
The older man and two others gently carried each person to the large living room where the doctor known as McAllister was putting on a pair of rubber gloves.
Scanning the patients, he called to the man from the door. “George, we’re going to need a helicopter.”
My eyes met the doctor’s blue-green ones and held. He was a lot younger than I had expected, with a strong face and dark, wavy blond hair to go with those rather incredible eyes.
“Who’s injured the worst?” he asked.
“The man,” I replied. “I’m not sure he’s still alive. His pulse was very weak even before I pulled him out of the wreck.”
Dr. McAllister’s eyes shot back to me, sizing me up. Obviously having questions, he said instead, “I need some help.”
Maybe he assumed I had some medical training. Then again, maybe I was just the best choice of assistants. The other three guys in the room didn’t look like they would be able to tell the difference between a pair of tweezers and a chainsaw.
I followed Dr. McAllister as he checked each patient. I don’t remember what he did. I was in a daze, simply following his orders.
The loud chopping of a helicopter broke the hush of the room. Paramedics rushed in with gurneys and quickly transferred the family to the waiting helicopter. As the lights and sounds faded away, Dr. McAlister took my hand, led me to a couch in front of the fire, and placed a mug of hot cocoa in my stiff fingers.
He sat down beside me, his gaze concerned. “I haven’t even asked if you are hurt.”
“No. Just cold.”
He wrapped a blanket around me, saying, “Can you tell me what happened?”
Almost like a recitation, I recounted every detail, but it was like I was talking about someone else. I felt nothing.
When I finished, I asked so
ftly, “Are they going to be alright, Dr. McAlister?” I vaguely noticed that my hands around the mug had begun shaking.
He winced. Seeing my cocoa was about to slosh out of my hands, he took the mug, put it on the coffee table, and held my cold hands in his warm ones.
His eyes met mine. “Call me Seth. And I’m not really a doctor, not yet anyway. I’m in medical school. George is an old friend who tends to exaggerate my accomplishments and ignore my faults.”
“I’m Hannah.”
Knowing I was still waiting for an answer, he sighed. “I think the kids are going to be fine. I’m not sure about the mom. She's lost a lot of blood. I don’t think the dad will make it. They'll do everything possible, but his chances are very slim.”
I appreciated his honesty. “I don’t know why my hands are shaking,” I murmured. Thinking back to what I had done, I felt a burning behind my eyes. “I had to do a lot of maneuvering to get the man out of the car. It was really rough. Maybe I hurt him more.”
I whispered. “Do you think he’ll die because of something I did?”
Warm tears rolled down my face. Seth took my face in his gentle hands, lifting my chin so our eyes met.
“Hannah, none of those people would have made it without you. Do you understand? They would have all died. You told me, but I still don’t understand how you did it. I do know that you saved them.” His thumb massaged my cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who was so strong and brave.”
I let out an almost hysterical giggle. “I’m not brave at all. If you only knew. My own shadow scares me regularly!”
“You did what had to be done even though you were afraid. I call that bravery.”
Seeing his honest face looking at me with such admiration, I lost it. The shaking hands turned into full body convulsions. The hysterical giggling transformed into heaving sobs. I couldn’t catch my breath. My throat, eyes, and chest burned, but I was so cold. I relived yet again every last detail of the night. But this time, I felt everything.