Unforgettable (2 page)

Another wave of nausea and dizziness made her knees buckle. As she fell, she struck her head on the bumper of another car in the parking lot. An explosion of pain in her head was the last thing she was aware of before darkness claimed her.

The man was at her side in a split second yelling for someone to call an ambulance, but there was no one else around. He quickly checked her pulse at both her throat and wrist. He had no idea what to do in a situation like this, having no medical training whatsoever.

A young stock boy came out of the store to gather shopping carts and the man yelled at him to get an ambulance. The boy immediately ran back inside to make the call. The boy quickly returned with two bottles of cold water and a washcloth from the store to apply to her forehead. Assuming she’d passed out from the heat, the boy suggested they carry her inside. However, when the man said she’d hit her head hard on one of the cars, they decided it was better not to move her.

The man gently pulled her head and shoulders onto his lap to keep as much of her body off the hot pavement as possible. The boy, clearly looking to the older man for guidance, gingerly repeated the action with her feet and legs. The man poured cold water onto the washcloth and began wiping her face, neck, arms and shoulders in hopes of keeping her cool.
I knew it! I knew the minute I saw her the damn heat was too much for her
, he thought. Her face was flushed, her skin hot to the touch. He continued to wipe her down with the cold water and damp cloth.

He kept talking to her, saying, “Hang on, little one. You’re going to be all right, angel,” but she never responded. She just lay there in his arms like a little rag doll. It was then that he noticed just how beautiful she was. The gauzy white, sleeveless summer dress she was wearing was cinched at the waist with a wide teal colored belt. Her waist length, auburn hair was French braided and fastened at the back with a matching teal ribbon. Long, thick eyelashes kissed the tops of her cheeks and he wondered briefly what color her eyes were. Brown, he supposed. She had high cheekbones, a small nose and a beautiful mouth. Even though she was flushed, he just knew her skin would be milky white and velvet soft. She seemed as small and fragile as a porcelain doll. She had to be the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

He wished he could be of more use to her right now. Besides keeping her cool, he had no idea what else to do for her but he was glad he was there. For the first time in a long time, he was glad he was… well, just glad he existed. Glad to be watching over her, protecting her. Glad to be helping such a fragile little creature as this one.

He wondered if there was someone waiting for her at home to look after her. He wondered if she was married. He quickly looked down at her hands. Her fingers were long and slender, as soft and delicate as the rest of her, but there was no wedding ring. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief, unaware that he’d been holding his breath until that moment. He was even more surprised at his relief that she wasn’t married. He should hope there was someone to take care of her when this was all over with, but he was strangely happy to know she was single. He quickly admonished himself for thinking such things when the poor woman lay unconscious in his arms. Besides, the last thing he needed in his life was a woman! Especially one who couldn’t take the heat!

Breezy was vaguely aware of the people and commotion surrounding her and wondered what was happening. She slowly opened her eyes. At first, everything was a blur until the face directly above hers came finally into focus.

“Hello there, little one,” the man said. Her dazzling blue eyes took him aback. Okay, they weren’t brown after all. Still, he wasn’t expecting them to be so bright and expressive, or so beautiful. One pupil was slightly larger than the other which, if he recalled, was a sure sign of a concussion.

“Hi,” Breezy whispered. Evidently, she’d died and gone to heaven for nowhere on Earth did a man as handsome as the one holding her in his arms exist. He was pure perfection, plain and simple. Dressed all in white and holding her so protectively, he just had to be an angel.
Maybe he’s a guardian angel
, she thought.
My guardian angel!

She tried to sit up so she could talk to him but the movement was too much and she passed out once again.

“Dammit! Where’s the ambulance? What the hell is taking them so long?” he roared, looking around at the growing crowd of onlookers in aggravation. Didn’t any of these people have better things to do? Didn’t any of them know how to help her? If they didn’t, they should just leave! The last thing she needed was a bunch of people gawking at her.

“Somebody hand me her purse. I need to see if she’s allergic to anything before that stupid ambulance gets here.” He didn’t bother looking up to see who handed it to him when it appeared abruptly over his shoulder. He was snapping at people for no good reason but that was nothing new for him. He’d been snapping at people for years without even noticing he was doing it. He wondered vaguely why it occurred to him to notice it now, or even care. Was it because his bad attitude had recently been brought to his attention? Or was it because he was worried about this woman? That question brought up another question before the first one had been answered:
Why
was he worried about her? He didn’t know her from Adam.

What he did know was that, when she’d finally opened her eyes, he’d been so incredibly glad to see it. Instantaneous relief and joy had swept over him the moment she’d said ‘hi.’ And those eyes! He’d never be able to forget her eyes, the color of clear, ocean blue waters. His heart had tap danced in his chest at the sight of them. He wasn’t sure why, or what it was about her, but he’d felt compelled to help her. Hell, something had told him to hang back and watch over her before she’d even passed out. He’d never cared so much about anyone before. Well, that wasn’t entirely true…once, a long, long time ago, but not lately, not in the last decade or so. This was more than just human compassion, though. Something about this woman pulled at his heart, as if he’d always known her, and losing her would leave him devastated.

Where was that damned ambulance?
he wondered. He searched the small address book he’d pulled from her purse and found the person to contact in case of an emergency. There was no information on whether or not she was allergic to any medications or if she was on any specific medications. Finally, in the distance, he heard the wail of the ambulance siren.

“Thank God!” he breathed softly.

Once she was stabilized and loaded into the ambulance for transport to the hospital, he called the number he’d found in her purse.

“Miss Brenton?” he inquired.

“Yes?” a woman’s voice replied.

“Miss Susan Brenton?” he asked again.

“Yes, who’s calling, please?”

“I’m calling on behalf of a Ms. Brittany Spring. I found your name and number in her address book, so I believe she is a friend of yours. I’m afraid she’s had an accident.”

“Oh, my God! No! What happened? Is she all right?”

“I’m not sure how she is. The ambulance is taking her to County Hospital as we speak. I’m not sure what happened but, if you’ll meet me there, I’ll tell you what I know.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Wait! How will I know you?”

“I’m wearing tennis whites and I’ve got Brittany’s purse. I forgot to give it to the ambulance driver.”

“Thank you so much for calling me. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. I’m on my way now.” Susan replied and hung up the phone without waiting for an answer.

The man hurried back to his car which was parked only a few spaces from Brittany’s classic Mustang. He stopped long enough to lock her doors before turning back to his own car. As he neared the bumper of her car, a white piece of material blew across his foot. He bent down to pick it up and saw that it was a woman’s embroidered handkerchief. Pink roses surrounded the B on one corner, with pink crocheted lace edging all the way around it. “Brittany,” he said softly, brushing his thumb across the tiny roses and monogram.

As he continued walking to his car, he couldn’t resist the urge to sniff the delicate handkerchief. It smelled of roses, lilac and some kind of softly seductive perfume which brought a vivid image of Brittany to his mind’s eye. Only in this image, she was awake, smiling seductively, and calling his name. As he reached his car door, he shoved the white square into his pocket and silently cursed himself for entertaining such thoughts about a woman who may well be fighting for her life. He got into his car and drove to the hospital as fast as the traffic laws would allow.

Susan was out the door and on her way in record time. Brittany was her best friend and always had been. She couldn’t fathom a life without Brittany in it. They were closer than any two sisters could ever have been. In fact, she’d been the one who introduced her to her husband, Tom and had been Susan’s maid of honor. After she married, Susan had worried their friendship might fade away and die, but Brittany hadn’t let that happen, no way. Ever the eternal optimist, Brittany always said things had a way of working out for the best, and they usually did.

Tom’s business was just getting off the ground when they were courting, but skyrocketed soon after the wedding. Within a year, Susan and Tom were able to buy the house at the end of the block from Brittany. They’d all grown closer together as friends, with Tom treating Brittany like his kid sister. He absolutely adored her. If anything was seriously wrong with Brittany, it would break Tom’s heart and hers too.

Susan said a silent, heartfelt prayer for all of them, adding a blessing for the unknown man who’d been kind enough to help Brittany and think to call her.

Susan spotted her unknown caller immediately upon walking through the Emergency Room doors. You just couldn’t miss a man as handsome as this one, especially when he was so darkly tanned and wearing tennis whites. The fact that he was carrying a teal handbag over his left shoulder kind of gave the game away, as well.

“Hello, I’m Susan Brenton. I believe you were the one who called me about Brittany Spring?” she asked. She knew it was him but, in today’s world, you just couldn’t assume anything. “How is she? Have you heard anything?” she asked anxiously.

“No, I haven’t heard a thing. I just got here myself and the ambulance was just a few seconds ahead of me,” he replied, handing Brittany’s purse to her without introducing himself.

“Tell me what happened, please,” Susan said, following him into the waiting room to sit down. As the man explained what had happened, Susan not only listened, but studied him intently. The way he spoke and carried himself implied that he was well educated and probably wealthy. Physically, he appeared to be a few inches above 6 feet in height, lean but well-muscled, with evenly tanned skin. At the moment, his broad shoulders seemed to carry the weight of the world. With that wild tangle of blue-black hair and full pouty lips, he looked like some mythological god on Earth. His rich brown eyes were shaded by full dark brows, emphasizing their hypnotic intensity. His strong, angular facial features were a combination of Irish/Italian masculinity that would have turned any woman’s head. However, it was his voice and his eyes that kept capturing her attention. There was a quality about them that made him seem distraught over what had happened to Brittany. Susan didn’t think he looked or acted like the kind of person who fell apart under pressure or in a crisis, so she wondered why he seemed so upset about Brittany.

“… and, as they came through those doors, I heard someone give the order for a CAT scan, but I don’t know if that was for Brittany, or not. As far as I know, she’s still unconscious,” the man explained.

“Oh, my! What possessed her to go out in this heat? She knows better than that since she has never been able to handle this kind of heat. I remember, when we were little, a bunch of us kids got together to play hide-and-seek and when we were hiding for the second time, none of us could find Brittany anywhere. I went and got her mom and finally, after about 30 minutes, we found her behind her parents’ garage. She’d passed out from heat exhaustion even though it was shady back there. Her face was flushed and covered with perspiration and her skin was hot to the touch, like you said it was today.

“She was ill for two days after that, weak and sick to her stomach, but then she was fine again. The doctors told her to avoid temperatures above 80 degrees and high humidity days because even the slightest exposure or exercise could cause her to pass out again. I can’t ever remember being so scared as I was that day, until now,” Susan said.

“I know what you mean. I don’t even know her and I’m worried sick about her. Look at me, I’m shaking!” Holding out his trembling hands as proof, he was surprised at the note of fear in his own voice. He wasn’t afraid of anything. He never worried about anything or anyone, always calm, cool and collected even under the worst pressure and circumstances. Yet, here he sat in a hospital waiting room on the edge of his seat agonizing over a woman he didn’t even know.

Susan looked at his shaking hands and, without a word, took one into her own and lightly squeezed it. She gave him a comforting smile and their hands remained entwined. In that moment of silent understanding, a new friendship was formed. She wasn’t sure exactly what had happened in the parking lot between Brittany and this man but she did know that, in that brief time, he’d come to care about Brittany as much as Susan had in a lifetime. Now, she thought she understood why he seemed so distraught over an apparent stranger.

“You know, when I first saw her leaning weakly against her car and trembling, I knew something was wrong but I didn’t do anything to help…I didn’t even try. I was just hanging back, making sure she got into the store safely. Oh, why didn’t I do something sooner? She never would have hit her head if I’d just done something! Instead, I stood there, a self-involved asshole, wondering why she didn’t just go home if she felt that bad! God! I can be such an ass!” he said guiltily, running his hand through his hair.

“Don’t do that to yourself. You did help her. She should have taken more precaution. She knows how the heat affects her. You did all you could possibly do to help her,” Susan said, attempting to comfort him.