Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

Calvin

I have one foot in the door when Caroline pounces on me. She's hugging my torso like she's the only thing keeping me grounded.

"Are you okay?" she asks into the crook of my neck. Her voice sounds like she's been crying.

I hold onto her, "I am now."

Snow is blowing inside, the wind something fierce. I'm about to close the door when Caroline looks past me. "Who is that?"

An SUV with snow chains idles in the street. It blinks its headlights and rolls away. The emblem on the side is hard to decipher in the storm.

"Sheriff Benson. He brought me home."

Caroline closes the door, and steps back, her face pained as she touches my cheek. Heat rises to my face and the pull to kiss her rushes through me. I will not make that mistake again.

Her fingers come away with a smear of red. I recognize blood when I see it.

"You're hurt," she says, studying the rest of me. "Where is your first aid kit?"

"Hall bathroom, behind the mirror."

She hurries off.

I pound my feet on the small rug, flakes falling by the wayside. I look like Sasquatch, covered in snow. I peel off my wet coat and hat and untie my boots, leaving them beside the door, grateful to have a warm house for refuge. I'll never complain about summer heat again.

Caroline returns with the first aid kit. "I'll make you some hot tea and you can tell me everything."

I follow her into my kitchen. It's strange coming home to find a woman waiting for me, making me tea.

Minutes later, I'm cupping the mug between my hands, a Band-Aid strip on my cheek. "I spun out. I'm extremely lucky that I wasn't seriously hurt."

Her eyes are like saucers.

"Someone in another car must have called emergency services. When Sheriff Benson arrived on the scene, I was in my SUV on the shoulder of the highway. He gave me a lift. Two other people were taken to the hospital."

I considered asking the sheriff to drive me there as well so I could help the wounded but I recognize my own trauma symptoms. I'm shaken to the core. I'm in no condition to assist anyone. Sheriff Benson agreed to contact the ER nurse back in New York, explaining what happened. Turns out her decision to get coverage for me was the right one.

Caroline is flitting around me. I've never seen her like this. She's brimming with nervous energy, moving back and forth between the kitchen counter and the table. With two hospitalizations in recent months, I have seen her vulnerable but those were rare sightings. She's strong, tough, independent. This behavior is very much out of character.

I tell her more about the ordeal. The Honda losing control, my own car hitting the black ice, sending me into a dizzying spin. She listens intently to every word, shaking her head at times.

I answer Caroline's few questions like about my car which will get towed once it's safe for a truck to venture out there. When she finally sits down across from me, she places her hand on top of mine. "I'm so relieved you're okay." A tear escapes the corner of her eye. My heart clenches.

I squeeze her hand, glancing at the mug. "Can I get something a little stronger?"

She lifts a curious brow. "Coffee, maybe?" She stands, scrutinizing the kitchen, ostensibly in search of a coffee maker.

I chuckle. "A near death experience warrants something much stronger. Like a shot of my best bourbon. You in?"

"I didn't see a liquor cabinet anywhere. Secret stash, huh?" I can tell she's calmer.

"Never told you about Aunt Pearl's drinking problem?"

Caroline's eyes scrutinize mine and I grin. When she laughs heartily, all I want is to hear that sound for the rest of my natural life.