“Okay.” I nod, and a moment later, he’s gone. With a shake of my head, I focus on the woman still holding onto me like I might disappear.
“It’s okay. Help is coming,” I say the only thing I can, hoping it will bring her some comfort.
“I don’t want to be alone.” Her words make my heart ache.
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” She nods then lets out a tired breath and closes her eye. “What’s your name?”
“Grace.” She opens her uninjured eye to look at me once more. “What’s your name? You don’t sound like you’re from around here,” she says then continues on a mutter, “not that it matters anymore. Nowadays, no one is from around here.”
I smile. “I’m Mia, and you’re right. I’m not from here. I’m actually from Montana.”
“Big Sky Country.”
“Yeah.” I laugh.
“I always wanted to see Montana.”
“It’s not too late.” I blot her chin when blood dribbles down the side of her face.
She laughs, patting my hand and reminding me of my own grandmother. “I’m old, darlin’. It takes me days now to work up the courage to face traffic to go get groceries. I couldn’t handle getting on an airplane.”
“You’re only as old as you feel.”
“Well, I feel old as dirt.” She sighs, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the headrest. Not sure what to do, I tip my head back to look at the sky above me, finding it blue with a few fluffy clouds, like the storm was something I imagined. I bite my lip nervously then look around to see if there is anyone nearby, but no one is close.
“Grace,” I call her name, but she doesn’t respond, and my stomach fills with unease. “Grace?” I grab her hand and squeeze.
“Yeah?” she answers, peeking at me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“I think I need to go get you some help,” I tell her, not feeling even a little comfortable leaving her, but I think I need to. I can see the cut above her eye, but she might be more injured than I know. “I promise I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay,” she agrees, and I lift her hand to hold my blouse against her eye.
I start to stand, but a hand rests on my shoulder, stopping me. I tip my head back, coming face-to-face with an older man in a police uniform. “She needs help.”
He nods then leans into the car over me and touches Grace’s cheek. “Ma’am, can you open your eyes?”
“I can, but I don’t want to,” she answers, making me smile and the officer chuckle.
“Can you try for me?” he asks.
She lets out a huff as she opens her good eye then asks, “Are you happy?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Damn, why didn’t I ask her that?
“I don’t think so. But my head is killing me.”
“Did you knock it on the steering wheel?”
“Yes.” She lets my hand go to reach out and touch the steering wheel. “The Beast was lifted off the ground when the tornado came down, and when he dropped, I hit my head.” The Beast. I smile at the name of her car. It does look like a beast. The baby-blue Buick Century must be at least twenty-seven years old if not older and is the size of a boat. “Thank God I didn’t listen to my son and get one of those little cars that are all the rage. If I had, I’d be across town.”
“You’re probably right about that,” the officer agrees before asking for an ambulance in the little speaker attached to his shoulder. “I’m going to have you taken to the hospital. That cut above your eye is going to need stitches.”
“Will you stay with me, Mia?” Grace asks, grabbing my hand so hard it hurts.
“Yeah, Grace, I’ll stay with you,” I assure her.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, closing her eye once more. I hold her hand as we wait for the EMTs to arrive, and once they do, I get into the ambulance with her. As the doors are being closed, I spot the man who saved me earlier standing with a group of men, his hands on his hips. Like he feels my eyes on him, he lifts his head, and I ball my hands into fists as our eyes lock.
I watch his eyes narrow right before the doors are slammed closed, and then a moment later, I feel the ambulance move. I let out my breath and shake off the feeling of regret in my chest. The last thing I need right now is to become infatuated with a man, especially when I have learned over and over that men are a waste of time. My father let me down time and time again while I was growing up. My ex proved his worth when he let me go without even a little bit of a fight. And my sister is now trying to get her life back after her husband went looking for something between another woman’s legs.