“June, can you hear me?” He felt along her neck. The bones seemed intact. Still, moving her could be dangerous—it could kill her—but he didn’t have a choice. The fire wasn’t completely out and he smelled gas fumes. The car could be engulfed in a flash.
“No brakes,” she muttered.
“Let’s get you out of here.” He braced June with his arm and pulled a knife from his boot. He sliced through the seat belt. She fell onto him and moaned again. Heat warmed his back. A glance proved the temporary reprieve was over. The flames were back. And growing.
“This will hurt,” Luke warned. He wriggled out, pulling June with him. Glass scratched his hands and tore at his pants. June’s gaze met his and she stiffened. She clutched his arm. Her mouth moved, her eyes pleading and desperate.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Almost there—”
Her grip tightened, nails cutting into his skin. “Megan,” she whispered.
It was almost a prayer, and Luke’s heart stuttered.
“Find Megan. D-D-Dan—” June’s eyes rolled back in her head as her body shook violently.
Luke looked up. Medics stood at the road’s edge.
He gathered June in his arms and ran.
Two
The hospital smelled like a mixture of bleach and disease. Almost midnight and the normal hustle and bustle was quiet, the lights dimmed to accommodate sleeping patients. Megan perched on the edge of the visitor’s chair and held her aunt’s hand like it was made of spun glass. June’s face was bruised, her petite body swallowed up by the stiff sheets. Wires, tubes, and machines crowded the space around the bed.
“June, you have to wake up and get better.” A tear slipped down Megan’s cheek.
Her parents were dead and her only brother was in prison. Her aunt was all she had left. She squeezed her eyes shut, the embedded urge to pray bubbling up, but she squelched it. Megan and God hadn’t been on speaking terms for a while.
“Miss, I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”
Megan opened her eyes to find a nurse standing at the bedside. The woman offered her a sympathetic smile. “You can come back tomorrow morning. ICU patients are allowed brief visits every hour.”
“And—” She swallowed past the lump. “If something happens during the night?”
“We’ll call you.” The nurse hung a new IV bag. “Your aunt is in critical condition, but she’s stable.”
Megan clung to the word stable. Any other alternative was too painful to consider. She bent and gently kissed her aunt’s cheek.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she whispered. “I love you.”
She retrieved her purse and jacket from the chair and, on wooden legs, walked out of the room. Luke was leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hall and straightened when he spotted her. It’d been three years since they’d last seen each other, and a world of hurt separated them, but her heart still skipped a beat when his gaze met hers. The crooked scar at the corner of his mouth and the slight bulge along the bridge of his nose—testaments to his troubled youth—were more evident by the short haircut and five o’clock shadow gracing his jaw. Mud spattered the legs of his khakis and cowboy boots.
“How is she?”
“She’s in a coma.” Her chin trembled, and she blinked rapidly to fight back a fresh wave of tears. “They don’t know if she’s going to make it.”
“She’ll make it, Megs.” Luke edged closer until he was standing in front of her. “Remember when June was breaking Remnant? Meanest horse in the county. No one else would touch him.”
“It took June weeks to even get close to him.” The corners of her mouth lifted slightly at the memory, even as she swiped at the dampness on her cheeks. “Everyone kept telling her it was useless, but she refused to give up.”
“Exactly. And she won’t give up this time either.”
She sucked in a deep breath. The temptation to take one step, lay her head against his chest, and cry a mountain of tears in his strong arms was compelling. Luke wasn’t just her ex-fiancé. Until their breakup, he’d also been her best friend and confidant. She lifted her gaze. A fresh scratch ran along his neck and disappeared into the collar of his wrinkled shirt.
“Thank you, Luke. For saving June. The doctor said another few minutes and—”
She would’ve died.
The words clogged her throat. He raised his hand as if to touch her arm but stopped halfway and dropped it. The fluorescent light caught on the Texas Ranger badge pinned to his chest. She willed herself to step away. Their relationship was like a shattered mirror, damaged and altered beyond repair. June’s accident, and Luke’s heroic actions, didn’t change that.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Megs, we need to talk.”
Her gaze darted to the state trooper standing outside of June’s room and she nodded. Avoiding this conversation wasn’t an option. She couldn’t make decisions without understanding exactly what was happening.
He led her to an empty break room. An ancient fridge in the corner hummed. Plastic chairs were scattered around a scratched table, and a comedy show played silently on the television in the corner.
She set her jacket and purse on the table. “What do you know about my aunt’s accident?”
Luke stepped over to the coffee machine and poured the dark brew into two Styrofoam cups. He handed one to her and she took it, careful not to let their fingers brush.
“Why don’t you sit down?” He jerked his chin at a chair. “It’s been a long night.”
“I’m okay. Just tell me.”
“She was on old Kerrville Road and went off the embankment along a sharp curve.”
Megan flinched. The road was notoriously dangerous. What was her aunt doing there? And did it have anything to do with the voice mail she’d left this afternoon on Megan’s phone? She took a sip of coffee, and it swirled like battery acid in her stomach.
“June was conscious when I pulled her from the car,” Luke continued. “She muttered something about her brakes
