Lexy’s Little Matchmaker Page 3

  “Good. Now, listen to me. This is your most important job. I want you to run as fast as you’ve ever run before and look for that medicine shot, okay? I’ll stay on the phone, but if we get disconnected, don’t panic. I’ll call you right back as soon as we have a signal.”

  “’K-’kay—”

  “Ian, wait. Are you listening?”

  “Y-yeah?”

  “When you have that shot, you run right back to your daddy fast, fast, fast. Okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  “I’m not going to talk while you run because I don’t want to slow you down, but I’ll be here if you need me.”

  “’Kay.”

  She listened to Ian, footsteps pounding, sucking wind, as he ran back to retrieve the EpiPen she prayed was in the vehicle. Every once in a while, Ian would gasp, “Lexy?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t.”

  Astonishingly, they never lost the signal. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he said, “I’m here!”

  Lexy exhaled, squeezing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Check the car, Ian. Take a breath and look carefully.”

  She heard the unlocking, the scrambling, Ian muttering to himself. A moment passed. “I have it! It fell out on the floor by the um…um…gas pedal.”

  Lexy crossed her fingers. “Run, Ian. Run back to your daddy and I’ll help you give him that shot.”

  “I…I know how,” he gasped out. More pounding. Voice jostling with his steps. “Daddy taught me ’cuz he and I are a team now.”

  Oh, God. “Good. Run fast.”

  Adrenaline pumping, she tapped a pen rapidly on the console, her gaze ping-ponging from the call timer to the GPS map on a separate computer that showed the paramedics’ progress toward the scene, and back again. She focused on her young caller’s panting breaths, counting them.

  In, out. In, out. In, out.

  One, two. Three, four. Five, six.

  “L-Lexy?”

  “I’m here, honey.”

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t leave you.”

  Finally a shaky-voiced Ian said, “I’m b-back. He’s still not awake. He slid off the rock, Lexy. He’s on the ground.” The panic reared up, making his words higher pitched, thready.

  “That’s okay. Ian, you can still help him.” She had to tamp down his hysteria in order for him to be effective. She flicked a glance at the call timer: seven minutes. Lexy gulped and said a quick prayer in her mind. “Listen to me carefully. Open the package and get the shot ready. Did your daddy teach you that part?”

  “Yes. I c-can do it.”

  “Perfect. Set the phone down and do it. Then pick it back up and tell me when you’re done.”

  “’Kay.”

  The phone clattered to the ground. She listened to the package being torn, to Ian’s heavy breathing, to her own blood surging a staccato rhythm in her ears.

  More shuffling. “I’m ready. Lexy?” Ian asked.

  “I’m here. I need you to be brave, Ian, because, when I tell you to, you’re going to press that needle down into your daddy’s leg and hold it there for ten full seconds so he gets all the medicine. That’s very important. We’ll count the time together, okay?”

  “’Kay,” he said, in a whimper.

  “Now, do as I say. Put the tip of the shot against his upper leg and I’ll count to three. Then you’ll press down as hard as you can. And we’ll count out the seconds.”

  “W-will it hurt ’im?”

  “No, sweetie, not at all. It just may save his life. Be strong for your daddy now, okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  “One, two, three—go, Ian.”

  “I did it!”

  “Hold it down hard, no matter what, and let’s count,” she said in a rush. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten,” they said together.

  Nothing.

  Lexy held her breath. Dane stood frozen.

  Even Ian remained silent.

  A muffled, unintelligible groan carried over the line, and Lexy had to blink back tears of relief and clamp her knuckles over her lips to maintain her cool.

  “He’s wakin’ up, Lexy! He’s wakin’ up!”

  She swallowed several times, leveled her tone. “Good, Ian. You did an excellent, excellent job.”

  “Daddy? Daddy! Wake up!”

  “The paramedics are almost there, okay, Ian? And they’ll take over. They’ll take good care of your daddy.”

  “Ian?” she heard a deep male voice slur.

  As expected, at the sound of his daddy’s voice, Ian lapsed into full-blown “refreak,” bursting into gut-wrenching, breath-stealing, choking and gagging sobs.

  “Ian, hand the phone to your daddy,” she said in a loud, firm tone, before she lost him completely. “Ian!”

  Some fumbling, then, “Hello?”

  “Drew Kimball?”

  “Ah…yeah?”

  “My name’s Lexy. This is Troublesome Gulch 9-1-1.”

  “Allergic,” he slurred. “Bees.”

  “I know. Ian told me. Don’t try to talk.” She could still hear Ian’s gulping wails in the background and they tore at her heart. “Just relax right where you are. The epinephrine your son administered will hold you over. Paramedics are almost there to help you, so hang tight.”

  He blew out a breath. “Yeah. ’S okay, pal. C’mere.” A pause. “My son okay?” he asked Lexy.

  She smiled for the first time since that line had rung. “Mr. Kimball, Ian is much more than okay. He just saved your life.”

  Lexy stayed on the line until Drew slurred that the paramedics were tromping up the path toward them, then wished him luck and hit the F8 key to disconnect.

  “Holy—” She eased out a long breath and pushed her fingers into her hair, yearning for some kind of an adrenaline dump. “Great job finding that trailhead so fast, Dane.”

  “Thanks. You, too, boss,” he said, admiration threaded through his tone. He wiped perspiration from his temples with the backs of his wrists. “Great job with everything. I heard his wail through your headset when you picked up.”

  “He was pretty panicked.”

  “Well, it was one amazing save.”

  “I’ll say” came an unexpected voice from the back of the room.

  Lexy swiveled around to find three uniformed men standing at the divider wall, observing the action. Chief Ken Hayward from TG Paramedics had spoken the words. Police Chief Bill Bishop and Fire Chief John Dresden flanked him. All members of the interdepartmental brass had offices one floor above the dispatch center in the main emergency services building, and all of them had radio scanners on their desks. “Chiefs, wow. Sorry, I didn’t even hear you guys come in,” Lexy said, raising her eyebrows quizzically at Dane.

  “Nope, me, neither.”

  “No worries. We didn’t intend to interrupt. Just watching the magic happen,” Chief Dresden said. “We headed down as soon as we heard the call go out. You both handled that amazingly well.”

  “Thank you,” Lexy and Dane said together.

  Police Chief Bishop stepped forward, gesturing toward the console. “Lexy, how old was that caller?”

  “I’m not sure. He was so freaked out, it was hard to get a bead. Young, though. Definitely well under ten. Maybe…five or six? Seven at the most.”

  “You did a helluva job with him,” Chief Bishop said.

  Unreal. A compliment like that was huge coming from Chief Bishop, also known to Lexy as her friend Cagney’s taskmaster father. But she knew from Cagney that he’d been actively working on changing his ways since his wife left him. Lexy gave him credit for that. She bestowed a genuine smile on him. “Thanks, Chief. Actually, though, the boy’s the one who deserves kudos for the save. He did everything I asked of him and more. And get this.” She paused. They all waited. “Apparently today is the two-year anniversary of his mother�
�s death.”

  A murmur of shock rippled through the room.

  “Do we know this Drew Kimball?” Chief Dresden asked, eyes narrowed in thought. “Is he local? Name doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “I’ve met him. He’s a recent transplant. Or re-transplant. His family lived here when he was a kid, apparently,” Chief Bishop said. “He moved back with his son. Opened that small gym near the youth center, in the old drugstore building.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  Lexy had noticed the new gym when she’d dropped by Cagney’s. She’d never been inside.

  The chiefs exchanged glances. “Once they’ve got the patient packaged and en route to the hospital, let’s get as much information as we can about our young caller,” Chief Hayward said. “Sounds like a perfect candidate for the Troublesome Gulch Hero Award, and we haven’t had one of those in a while.”

  Lexy felt her muscles unlocking like a puzzle, her heartbeat returning to normal, pump by pump. “What a great idea. Maybe it’ll help to take the edge off this sad day for him. Give him a new memory to associate with it.”

  Just then, the electronic door beeped, and Genean dance-bopped in carrying white takeout bags and a soda, earbuds from her iPod in and clearly pumping some wildly upbeat tune into her brain. She stopped short, glancing from person to person, then hooked her finger in the white headset cords and yanked the buds from her ears. “Whoa, three chiefs in the room.” She widened her eyes at Lexy. “Am I in trouble?”

  Lexy shook her head slowly. “No. But I must say, when you jinx the center, Genean, you don’t do it halfway.”

  “Uh-oh. What exactly did I miss?”

  Chapter Three

  Up on the trail, Drew closed his eyes and felt gradual physical relief seep through him, thanks to the obligatory epinephrine drip and oxygen the paramedics—four of them in all—had administered. Emotionally, though, he was gripped with staggering regret about his carelessness.

  Their bonding hike, Ian’s card, remembering Gina.

  He thought of all the times he’d accused Gina of being reckless with her health, and felt awful. Reckless, careless—it didn’t matter which was worse, because they both ultimately impacted Ian.

  Drew exhaled sharply, fogging the plastic oxygen mask. He rolled his head to one side on the gurney and saw Ian ask a young, dark-haired paramedic a question, then they both glanced toward him. The paramedic nodded, clapped Ian on the shoulder, then guided him toward the gurney. Ian looked apprehensive, eyes wide. It occurred to Drew that seeing him this way, with tubes in his arms and an oxygen mask obscuring his face, probably reminded Ian of Gina’s last day, when the two of them had found her collapsed in the house and had called the paramedics.

  Drew struggled to sit up when Ian approached, to remove the mask, to show his son that everything would be okay.

  “Try to stay still, Mr. Kimball, while we get you stabilized,” said a kindly, gray-haired paramedic with fully tattooed forearms, who seemed to be in charge. “Keep that oxygen mask in place.”

  Drew raised a palm. “I need to…talk to my son. Please. Just for a moment.”

  The older man studied him, then nodded. “Try to make it quick.”

  “Hey, pal,” Drew said gently, opening his arms. The younger paramedic lifted Ian to perch on the edge of the gurney, then backed away a few feet.

  Ian’s body trembled and he wrapped himself as best he could around Drew’s middle, his tears starting anew.

  “Come on, now, big guy. I’m going to be fine.”

  The medic shot Drew a sympathetic half smile over the top of Ian’s head.

  Drew refocused on his son as Ian pulled back, the boy’s expression, both watery and hot, challenging him. “Why’d you forget the medicine shot, Daddy? You said we can’t be too prepared and then you left it. You left it!”

  An arrow of guilt, straight to the heart. No excuses. “I know I did. My mind was too full this morning, of your mom, of making sure you and I had a good day. I made a big mistake. I should’ve been more careful.” He paused, pleading with his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ian.”

  After a moment the boy shrugged one thin shoulder, looking somehow smaller and more vulnerable than he had that morning. “’S okay. But you scared me. A lot.”

  “I know. But, hey, look how brave you were, even in spite of your fear. You saved my life.” Trying for a light tone, he chucked Ian’s chin. “You’re a superhero, just like Batman on your backpack.”

  Ian’s lips quivered. “I don’t want to be a superhero. I just want you.” He glared at the cartoon tough-guy on his discarded pack, an avalanche of emotions crossing through his golden-brown eyes all at once. “Oh, no. Daddy,” he said, as if stricken, his tone unsteady, breaths coming quicker. “What about Mommy’s card? She won’t get it when the angels come down tonight.” Panic threaded through his tone. “She’s going to think I forgot her.”

  Dammit. Drew had hoped the subject wouldn’t arise. “No. Ian, she won’t think that. She’s watching us from heaven right now. She knows what happened.” Weak argument for a six-year-old who believed he’d be closer to his mom at the top of the peak.

  “How do you know?” Ian cried.

  “Shh, come here.” He held his son closer, smoothing a palm down his back. Somehow, against all odds, he had to make this happen. “We’ll…get the card to the top of the mountain, okay? Maybe not today, but—”

  “It has to be today.” Ian’s thin chest rose and fell with adamance.

  Drew pressed his lips together. Dilemma.

  The younger paramedic strode to the one in charge, exchanged a few quick words, then approached him and Ian. “Mr. Kimball? I don’t mean to interrupt—”

  “It’s okay. Name’s Drew. Please.”

  “Drew, then.” He pointed to the name tag on his uniform shirt—B. Austin. “I’m Brody. Ian…told me about the hike up to see his mom.” His eyes conveyed an understanding Drew hadn’t expected. Brody indicated the supervisor with his chin. “Boss here says we’re going to chopper you out from the parking lot to get you to High Country Medical Center as quick as possible—”

  “Chopper?” Ian shot a wide-eyed glance at Brody.

  The paramedic smiled down at him. “You want to fly in a helicopter with your dad, buddy?”

  Ian nearly vibrated with excitement, which was a far sight better than his earlier terror and liquid-eyed reproach, if you asked Drew. “Yeah.”

  “I assume you’re going to need your vehicle when you get released, Drew,” Brody continued.

  “True. Hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

  Brody pressed his lips together. “I know it’s not the same for you or Ian—” he shot a quick glance at the boy “—but it just so happens I have something to deliver to the angels for a friend in heaven, too.”

  Drew understood the paramedic was making this up on the fly, just to assuage Ian’s distress. He appreciated the kindness more than he could articulate.

  “I’d be happy to carry your mom’s card up, too, while you and your dad are in the helicopter. If you’d like.”

  “Is that okay, Daddy? Will Mommy still get it?”

  Drew held the other man’s gaze. “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely,” Brody said. “And it’ll serve a dual purpose. I’ll keep your keys and drive your SUV down to the hospital so you’re not stranded. My rig can pick me up there.” He glanced toward the gray-haired man. “Already cleared it with the boss.”

  Drew rested back on the gurney, suddenly crushed with exhaustion. Or relief. Maybe a combination of the two. After a moment he said, “Ian, go pick some of those flowers, so Mr. Brody can take them with your card. Okay?”

  Ian glanced between the two men, then bounded off into the vibrant orange field without a word.

  Drew slipped the oxygen mask back in place, grateful for the assistance with his labored breathing. “I don’t know what to say. Except thanks,” he said, his voice muffled through the plastic. “It’s important for him.”

 
“I understand. Really. I’m glad to help out.”

  “I’m still not used to living in a small town.” Drew huffed a wry half laugh. “That’s not the kind of paramedic service we’d get in the city.”

  Brody smiled ruefully. “Oh, trust me. I’ve worked in big-city departments. That much I know. But Troublesome Gulch is different.”

  “Yeah. That’s why I came back.”

  “You from the Gulch?”

  “Long time ago. I was a kid.”

  “Ah…missed the small-town grapevine?”

  “Something like that.” Drew said wearily. In truth, he’d had to get Ian out of the house in Virginia that held so many ghosts. When it came time to decide where to go, Drew could think of no better place to raise his son than the town of all his pleasant childhood memories. It had been easier than he would’ve imagined to leave his coveted coaching position, pack up their belongings and move west. “We needed a fresh start.”

  “I know a little something about that.” Brody opened his mouth, then closed it, seeming hesitant to continue. Finally, he crossed his arms. “You know, a lot of us in these parts have experienced losing someone we love. I understand what you’re trying to do for your son with the visit to his mom at the top of the hike, and believe me, I know it’s not easy. But it’s admirable.”

  “It was Ian’s idea. I couldn’t dash his dreams.”

  “I get it. I do.” A pause. “Seems like a good kid.”

  “The best. He keeps me sane.”

  “He deserves to get that card to his mother.” They looked at Ian, carefree for the moment, choosing flowers.

  “Yeah.” A lump rose to Drew’s throat. After a moment, he cleared it away. “You have children, Brody?”

  “Sure do.” Brody worked his wallet out of his back pocket and extracted a family photograph. He handed it to Drew. “That’s Jason, and the baby girl’s Mickie.”

  “A baby and a teenager? That’s a houseful.”

  “Tell me about it,” Brody said.

  Drew heard the pride in the other man’s voice. He pointed to the photo. “And…that’s your wife?”

  “She’s a counselor at the high school. Name’s Faith.”

  “Great photo.”

  “Thank you.”

  Drew envied the sound of Brody’s seemingly simple, picture-perfect life. He handed the snapshot back, unable to bear talking about it anymore. Not today. “Well, listen. I owe you one. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.”