He opened his mouth to speak, then looked as though he was about to throw up. He clamped his lips together and swallowed several times, containing the urge. He closed his eyes again, then after a few seconds opened them. “I was hit?”
She nodded. “By the rear quarter panel, I think. Are you in pain?”
After a few moments’ assessment, he said, “Everywhere.”
“The back of your head is bleeding. I can’t tell how bad it is. You fell on a rock. I’m afraid to move you.”
His teeth had begun to chatter. Either he was cold or he was going into shock. Neither was good.
“I’ve got a blanket in the car. I’ll be right back.”
She stood up, ducked her head against the wind, and labored back to her car, wondering what on earth he’d been thinking to have charged out of the woods like that, straight into the middle of the road. What was he doing up here on foot, during a winter storm, in the first place?
The trunk lid release on the dashboard didn’t work, possibly because of damage to the electrical system. Or possibly because the lid was frozen shut. She removed the key from the ignition and took it with her to the rear of the car. As she’d feared, the lock was glazed over.
She groped her way to the shoulder of the road and picked up the largest rock she could handle, then used it to chip away the ice. In emergency situations like this, people were supposed to experience an adrenaline rush that imbued them with superhuman strength. She felt no such thing. She was panting and exhausted by the time she’d knocked away enough ice to raise the trunk lid.
Shoving the packing boxes aside, she found the stadium blanket zipped into its plastic carrying case. She and Dutch had taken it to football games. It was for warding off an autumn chill, not surviving a blizzard, but she supposed it was better than nothing.
She returned to the prone figure. He lay as still as death. Her voice rose in panic. “Mr. Tierney?”
He opened his eyes. “I’m still alive.”
“I had a hard time getting the trunk open. Sorry it took so long.” She spread the blanket over him. “This won’t be of much help, I’m afraid. I’ll try—”
“Save the apologies. Do you have a cell phone?”
She remembered from the day they’d met that he was a take-charge kind of man. Fine. This wasn’t the time to play the feminist card. She fished her cell phone from her coat pocket. It was on, the panel was lighted. She turned it toward him so he could read the message. “No service.”
“I was afraid of that.” He tried to turn his head, winced and gasped, then clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. After a moment, he asked, “C
an your car be driven?”
She shook her head. What she knew about cars was limited, but when the hood looked like a crumpled soda can, it was reasonable to assume that the car was disabled.
“Well, we can’t stay here.” He made an effort to get up, but she pressed her hand against his shoulder.
“You could have a broken back, a spinal injury. I don’t think you should move.”
“It’s a risk, yeah. But it’s either that or freeze to death. I’ll take the gamble. Help me up.”
He extended his right hand, and she clasped it tightly as he struggled to sit up. But he couldn’t stay up. Bending forward from the waist, he fell on her heavily. Lilly caught him against her shoulder and held him there while she repositioned the stadium blanket around his shoulders.
Then she eased him back until he was in a sitting position. His head remained bent low over his chest. Fresh blood trickled from beneath the tight watch cap, eddied around the front of his earlobe, and dribbled down his jaw.
“Tierney?” She lightly smacked his cheek. “Tierney!”
He raised his head, but his eyes remained closed. “Fainted, I think. Give me a minute. Dizzy as hell.”
He breathed deeply, in through his nose, out through his mouth. After a time, he opened his eyes and nodded. “Better. Think that together we can get me on my feet?”
“Take all the time you need.”
“Time is what we don’t have. Get behind me and put your hands under my arms.” She released him cautiously and, when she was certain that he could stay upright, moved behind him. “A backpack.”
“Yeah. So?”
“The awkward way you were lying, I thought your back was broken.”