Lovey was lying against the damp earth. Her heart beat wildly. It took another moment for her to gather her shocked senses before she ran to the crest of the hill to look for the car. From her vantage point, she could hear the engine sputter and stall. And she could see the large dark sedan, in its upended position, wheels spinning freely in a cloud of dust, the headlights pointed skyward, illuminating nothing but tree branches.
Deftly and as fast as she could move over the now rutted uneven turf, Lovey ran down to check the driver.
When she came along the side of the car she could make out the shadowed silhouette of a struggling figure, hanging upside down from the driver’s seat.
“Are you all right? Are you hurt?” Lovey asked. She was slightly breathless from her quick descent and the fright of almost being run over. Death by auto was certainly not the wish she’d made, nor the possibility she’d been hoping for.
“I’m okay, but my foot is caught.”
It was dark in the car’s interior so Lovey couldn’t make out details, but despite masculine clothing, the voice that spoke sounded young, maybe even feminine. Lovey puzzled over this as she jerked at the door handle a few times before getting it to release. Once the door was open, she leaned inside.
“Let me help you.” It was so dark that Lovey was having a hard time figuring out exactly how the driver was stuck.
“My boot lace is wrapped around the brake, I think. I’ve got a folding knife in my pocket. If you could get it then you could cut me loose.” The driver was struggling to keep still, balanced between the seat and the roof of the car. “If I let go I might break my ankle from the weight, or worse, my neck.”
“I’m not reaching into some strange boy’s trousers.”
“There’s no boy here unless you brought one with you.” The stranger smiled, despite the circumstances, seemingly amused by the mistaken identity.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed based on the way you’re dressed—”
“How about we debate the finer points of fashion once you cut me loose?”
Lovey was reluctant to undertake such an intimate task as rummaging in the front pocket of some stranger’s trousers, but she didn’t see any way around it. She thrust her fingers into the driver’s pocket and felt around for the knife.
“Careful. I’m gettin’ a little excited.”
“What?” Lovey recoiled, exasperated. “Look, do you want me to leave you hanging there or do you want my help?”
“I’m sorry, truly. It’s just all the blood is running to my head. It’s making me punchy. Please cut me loose.”
Lovey reluctantly resumed her search. She found the knife, then practically had to climb inside the car in order to reach the foot pedals to cut the tangled bootlace.
The instant the tension on the cord was released, the full weight of the driver collapsed against Lovey, and the two of them tumbled out of the car in a heap. Lovey found herself suddenly in contact with the trouser-clad young woman, the hem of her dress askew and the woman’s head in her lap. She peered up at Lovey, a dazed look in her eyes. Lovey felt the woman shiver against her, despite the warm summer night. Obviously, in spite of her bravado, the wreck had shaken her up. They didn’t touch, other than where her head rested in Lovey’s lap, but the direct gaze that passed between them sent a pulsing sensation through Lovey’s chest that caused her to catch her breath.
The driver scooted back toward the side of the upturned vehicle.
“Thank you.” The woman pushed a thick tuft of blond hair back from her forehead. Her hands were trembling even though she appeared to be trying to conceal that fact by rubbing them up and down her thighs.
“You’re welcome. And I think you’re bleeding.” Lovey watched as the woman touched her brow where blood was seeping from a cut. The car’s headlights were still pointed up into the trees, which offered a small amount of reflected light on the ground below.
Lovey rose quickly, dusting off her dress, as the stranger stood, swayed, and leaned back against the open car door. “Maybe you hit the steering wheel,” Lovey said.
“Must have.”
“Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“I don’t think so.” She gave Lovey a slightly pained look. “But I think I’m a little shaky on my feet.”
“Do you feel well enough to walk? I live very close. Why don’t we walk back to my house and see about that cut over your eye? Then we can call someone about your car.” Lovey offered the invitation without really thinking through the possible consequences of inviting a complete stranger back to her house. It dawned on her that her father would likely not be home for another hour, maybe two. But it was too late to recant the invitation now.
“Thank you again. I’m Royal Duval, by the way.” Royal extended a hand and then realized her palm was covered with blood, which she wiped on her khaki trousers. “Sorry. I think I got blood on your dress.”
Lovey looked down for the first time at the stain on her dress where Royal’s head had landed. Those smudges along with smears of red clay where she’d hugged the dirt embankment comingled in such a way that a bystander might have surmised she’d been in the crash along with Royal instead of watching it from the roadway.
She sighed and wiped ineffectively at the dirt smudges. “I’m Lovey Porter, and my father’s place is just back up the road a few minutes. Come on.” Royal nodded, briefly turning to switch off the headlights and retrieve the car key before shutting the door and allowing Lovey to steer her up the hill by the elbow.
Lovey marveled at the turn her evening had taken as they trudged slowly back to the roadway. Royal stumbled,
