He shifted uncomfortably and drew a ragged breath. She suspected the numbness from the initial shock was wearing off, and that the pain would worsen rapidly. “Kyle. Kyle Neighbors.”
“Okay, Kyle. Lie down and I’ll check on your friend.”
His breathing was a series of low moans now, but he managed a nod with his eyes squeezed shut, his hands fisted into the grass at his sides. Bonnie scooted over to Paul. “How is she?”
“She has some injuries, but she’s going to be fine,” he said bracingly, the words as much for Cheryl as for Bonnie.
He’d lifted the face shield on the helmet to reveal Cheryl’s pale, tear-streaked face. Wild red curls fell from beneath the helmet, lying in a tangled mass beneath her on the ground. She cried softly, a mixture of sobs and low moans.
Bonnie saw that Paul had one hand pressed against Cheryl’s upper leg. Blood oozed from beneath his fingers, making her aware that he was putting pressure on a wound to slow the bleeding. Without stopping to think, she tugged off her eyelet shirt, leaving her clad in the lace-trimmed tank top. “Here. Use this as a bandage or tourniquet,” she offered, extending the shirt to Paul. “Whatever you need.”
“It’ll be ruined.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She caught the injured woman’s flailing arm. “Cheryl, my name is Bonnie. Lie still, okay? Help is coming.”
“Helmet… Take it off.”
“Let’s leave it on for now,” Paul said gently. “We don’t know if there are any spinal injuries.”
As her initial daze from the accident wore off, Cheryl became more agitated, squirming and crying out from pain and fear. Still putting pressure on the bleeding wound, now using Bonnie’s shirt as a pad, Paul finally spoke firmly to the young woman, in what Bonnie imagined to be his father and schoolteacher voice.
“Cheryl, you’re going to have to be still now,” he ordered, his tone kind but implacable. “I know you’re scared and you’re in a lot of pain, but you have to be brave until the ambulance gets here, or you’re going to make everything much worse. Do you understand?”
Subsiding into quiet tears, Cheryl nodded as best she could in the helmet.
Bonnie couldn’t help but be impressed by the way Paul had taken charge of the scene. He was so different now than the easygoing horseman who’d flirted with her on the trail, the sunburned athlete who’d kissed her in his kitchen. This, she realized, was the man everyone called upon in a crisis, and now she had a better understanding of why.
“But it hurts,” Cheryl whispered on a sob.
His firm tone immediately softening, Paul rested a hand comfortingly on the young woman’s shoulder. “I know,” he said, “and help is on the way. We’re going to take very good care of you until it arrives, okay?”
Biting her lip, Cheryl nodded again, her eyes fixed on Paul’s face as if she drew strength from his confidence and kindness. And here, Bonnie thought, was the special side of him that made so many people love him. She was all too close to that point, herself.
“Where’s Kyle?” Cheryl asked, seeming to suddenly think a bit more clearly through her pain and disorientation.
“Kyle’s fine,” Bonnie assured her. “If you’ll be as calm as you can for Paul, I’ll go check on him again.”
“O-okay.”
Bonnie patted the younger woman’s shoulder bracingly and moved to Kyle, who lay in the same position as she’d left him, moaning and occasionally cursing beneath his breath. Seeing the tears streaking his cheeks, she rested her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you’re hurting. The ambulance should be here soon.”
She heard occasional traffic pass above, but no one stopped. There weren’t many cars on the road on a Monday midafternoon. She knew they weren’t visible to the people passing; all they would see was Paul’s car parked on the shoulder with the hazard lights flashing, as if he’d run out of gas or had engine trouble. She couldn’t help wondering how long Kyle and Cheryl would have lain here if she and Paul hadn’t witnessed the accident.
A drop of water fell on her hand, and for a moment she thought it was one of Kyle’s tears. But then more followed and she realized it was beginning to rain, very lightly at the moment but sure to strengthen. She hoped the heavy rain would hold off just a little longer, for all of their sakes.
“Oh, thank God,” she murmured only a moment later, finally hearing the muted wail of an approaching siren. “Kyle, do you hear that? The ambulance is almost here. You and Cheryl are going to be fine.”
It wasn’t long afterward that Kyle and Cheryl were strapped to backboards, carried up the hillside and whisked away by ambulance to the nearest hospital. After giving their statements to the police officers working the accident, Bonnie and Paul, too, were finally free to leave.
Bonnie looked down at her wet, grubby clothes, then at Paul’s which bore even more dirt and blood. “We’ll mess up your car.”
“Leather seats, they’ll clean up. But you’re shivering.”
The rain was still light, but increasingly steady. The narrow straps of her top bared her shoulders and arms to the wet, rapidly cooling air. The wet cotton clung to her, and she was aware that the outline of her bra was visible through the fabric. She hadn’t realized she was cold until he’d pointed it out. Now she noticed the goose bumps that prickled her arms.
Paul opened his trunk and drew out a thin plaid stadium blanket. He gave it a shake, then wrapped it around her shoulders. For just a moment, she allowed herself to lean against him, aware for the first time that her hands were shaking. He tightened his arms around her in a hug he seemed to need as badly as she did before settling her into the passenger seat. By the time he’d made it around the front of the car and into his own seat, the rain was coming down in earnest. Buckled into her seat, Bonnie drew the blanket more snugly around her as Paul started the car and drove carefully back onto the wet road.
“Do you think Cheryl will be okay?” she asked him, looking at the blood that streaked his clothes.