Chapter 6

DIANA

Iwatched to make sure Hudson got inside okay. The poor guy was way out of his depth. I hoped he gave our little town a chance. It wasn't so bad.

City people always cringed at the lack of amenities but that was because they didn't understand the joy of good, clean air and peaceful nights. Once they let go of the amenities, they could see all the other stuff they were missing out on, like trees and grass. We were far removed from the concrete jungles of the city.

I pulled out of the hotel parking lot, and the rain turned into an absolute downpour. I turned my windshield wipers on high and leaned forward, trying to see out the windshield. The water was blinding, but I knew this street and figured I could make it back to the main road. The smart thing would be to sit in a parking lot and wait for the deluge to pass. It usually only lasted a few minutes, ten minutes tops. But I wanted to get home.

Suddenly, the car tilted to the side and my purse in the back seat flew past me. I screamed, my heart racing with fear, as the car tipped over in slow motion. I knew there was a drop-off on this road. I had no idea if that was where I was falling off or not. Blackness was all I could see.

My seatbelt caught, digging into my shoulder as the car rolled onto its side. Glass shattered when the vehicle hit the ground with a sickening thud. Everything seemed to slow down as my mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. When the car finally came to a stop, I was hanging, suspended by my seatbelt. My head throbbed from where it had hit the window during the crash.

I could hear rushing water. Outside my cracked windshield, one headlight cut through the darkness, revealing water. I was in the ditch that always turned into a waterway when we got these storms. My right arm hanging down was suddenly drenched.

"Oh no," I cried out when I understood my precarious situation.

As the water began flowing through the car, panic surged through me. I frantically struggled to unclip my seatbelt. My fingers fumbled with the buckle. My breaths came in short, panicked gasps until finally, with a shaky click, it gave way. The second it happened was exactly when I realized I was going to fall directly into the water. I hit the center console on the way down. Something cut into the side of my leg and my palm from where I tried to break my fall.

My hip throbbed with pain as I crouched in the water. My hands scrabbled against the driver's door in a desperate attempt to open it. "Come on," I groaned.

I started to shiver. It wasn't all that cold, but it was the shock of the situation. I didn't want to panic. I wasn't going to drown. I could kick out the window if necessary. I wasn't looking forward to getting cut up, but I could do it.

"Take a deep breath, Diana. You're fine. You're not hurt. You can get out."

With renewed strength, I tried to open the door. With the way the car was sitting and my short stature, I couldn't seem to get enough strength to push it open. No matter how hard I shoved and strained, it refused to budge, trapping me inside with the rising water.

Feeling the icy grip of panic tightening around my chest, I took a second to regroup. I needed to call for help. My purse. I remembered seeing it flying across the car. I reached into the water, carefully feeling around.

"Diana, your phone is underwater," I told myself.

Would it even work? Technically, the phone claimed it would work after being submerged. Let's hope that claim is real.

But what if I didn't have service? I groaned, wanting to cry, but that would solve nothing. I was on my own and had to get myself out of this stupid mess I got myself into. I felt foolish. I knew better. I should have just waited.

Suddenly, I heard pounding. "What the hell now?"

"Hey! Are you okay?!"

I looked up and saw my hitchhiker leaning over the driver's window.

"I'm okay!" I shouted to be heard over the rain and the rushing water flowing into the car. "I can't get out!"

"Cover your head," he shouted.

I knew what he was going to do. I pulled my shirt up, not caring that I was revealing my back and bra. I didn't want my face cut. Call me vain. I tried to get away from the window, but there weren't a lot of places to hide. I heard him hit the window and braced myself.

Glass shattered around me. The cold rain mixing with the glass cascaded down over me.

"Give me your hands," he shouted into the car.

I pulled my shirt down and shook off the bits of glass. I lifted my arms, not knowing how I was going to get myself up and out the window. Suddenly, I felt his strong hands gripping my wrists and pulling me upward like he was lifting a baby asking to be carried. My head spun as I found myself being hoisted out of the wrecked car and into the downpour outside. Raindrops pelted my face, mixing with tears of relief as he put me on the ground.

His hands moved to steady me. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice urgent yet gentle.

"I don't think so," I managed to reply, my body trembling from shock and cold. "Thank you. Thank you so much for helping me. I don't know what I would have done."

My legs threatened to give way beneath me, but his firm grip kept me steady. He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close to shelter me from the rain.

"We need to get out of this storm," he said, his voice cutting through the sound of the pounding downpour. "We'll call the police from somewhere dry."

Nodding gratefully, I allowed him to lead me away from my wrecked car. He led me back to the hotel, quickly opening the door and escorting me to his room. He must have only dropped his bag off before rushing to my aid.

"I'll grab some towels," he said. "You're soaked. Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"I'm okay. Just shaken up, I think."

He handed me a towel which seemed pretty futile against my soaked clothes. "You've got some glass in your hair," he said. "Don't rub it."

"Oh no, I don't want to get it on your floor." I spotted the trash can in the corner and bent over it, shaking my head to free the chunks of glass.

"Hold on," he said.

His fingers were moving through my hair, gently plucking out any of the glass that was locked into my wet curls. A shiver ran down my spine but it had nothing to do with the chill or the accident. It was his gentle touch. His hands running through my hair fought off the chill and had me feeling very warm.

"I think it's all out," he said.

"Thank you."

"Let me turn up the heat," he offered. "Should we call the police? Do you need an ambulance?"

"I'm really fine," I said, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "I got a little too close to the edge of the road. I couldn't see anything and I think I just slid into the ditch. The car flipped on its side. I had my seatbelt on."

"It could have been a lot worse. You were lucky." His eyes searched mine, concern evident in their depths. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I managed a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Just might need a new car."

He chuckled softly, the sound comforting in the midst of the chaos. "Cars can be replaced. You, on the other hand, can't."

"I'll call the non-emergency line to report the accident," I said. "I'll have a tow truck come out in the morning."

"Non-emergency?" he asked.

I picked up the hotel phone and dialed the number by memory. "Hi, Donna," I said when the dispatcher picked up.

"Where are you, Diana?" she asked. "My caller ID is showing you at the hotel. Are you up to no good like your brother?"

"I put my car in the ditch," I told her.

"Oh no, are you okay, honey?" she asked, her tone changing to a concerned mama's. "Let me call you some paramedics."

"No, I'm okay." I said quickly. "I'm not hurt. I wanted to let you know about the car though, just in case the sheriff is out patrolling and sees it. Let him know I'm fine."

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked. "Sometimes you don't really feel it until the day after."

"I'm fine," I said. "Thank you for asking, though."

"I'm glad you're okay. I'll tell the sheriff about your car, and if you need anything at all, you can call me if you need to."

We said our goodbyes and hung up. Hudson was looking at me like I was crazy. "Do you really know everyone?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much."

"No cops are coming out?" he asked.

"We have sheriffs and state police," I told him. "On a night like this, emergencies take precedence. Non-urgent matters have to wait their turn."

"Weird," he said.

"Thank you for saving me," I said. "That water was coming in fast. It was actually a little scary."

"You would have been okay, just very wet." He grinned. "The chance of drowning was low."

"True." I smiled. "I tried to get the door open, but I wasn't strong enough. I was going to kick out the windshield but was trying to figure out how to do that when you showed up."

He laughed softly, a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm glad I got there in time. Kicking out the windshield might have caused more harm than good." He moved closer to me, his gaze unwavering. "I'm just glad you're safe."

My cheeks flushed under his intense stare, and I looked away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I went from wet dog to drowned rat. "It was a close call," I said.

He glanced down at my feeble attempts to dry myself with the threadbare hotel towel. "You're soaked. I've got some sweats you can put on."

"I'm fine."

"You're gonna catch your death of cold," he said. "Change. Get dry."

He unzipped his backpack and pulled out some sweats and a hoodie. They looked so warm and so not wet. My clothes stuck to my body and were starting to chafe. "Thank you."

"I'll be right back," he said. "I was on my way to the vending machines when I heard the crunch of your car rolling on its side."

"I'm so glad you were outside," I said. "My night could have gone a heck of a lot worse."

"I guess it's a good thing you mentioned the vending machine. Speaking of which." He gave me a small smile before heading out of the room, leaving me alone to change.

I quickly went into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. "Oh, Diana," I cringed.

Mascara streaked down my face. I was ghostly pale, making my freckles stand out. My hair was plastered to my head. My shirt clung to me like it was painted on. My lacy bra provided no real coverage and my nipples were so hard they ached.

Hudson was tall, dark and handsome with hazel eyes that looked like they saw everything. He had a ruggedness to him with a slight five o'clock shadow and a chiseled jawline. He was God's gift to women and I looked like something that had been pulled out of the sewer.

As I stripped out of my wet clothes, I felt embarrassed Hudson had seen me in such a disheveled state. As I slipped into his warm, dry sweats and hoodie, gratitude washed over me for his kindness and quick thinking in coming to my rescue.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Hudson was leaning against the hotel room door, two cans of soda in hand along with an assortment of chips and candy bars. His gaze lingered on me for a moment before he cleared his throat, looking away. "I hope those fit okay," he said. "I promise they're clean."

"They're fine, thank you," I said. "I feel so much better."

"And drier," he added.

He held up one of the cans. "Best soda in town, I hear," he said with a wink. "I thought you could use a little sugar."

I could use a lot more than that from him.