Lost Highways (A Valentine Novel) by Curtiss Ann Matlock Page A

the pants, but Harry tersely said to leave it alone until they got to the hospital.
    He made all his examinations with one hand, never letting go of the child’s hand gripping him. This made his effort to remove her boot difficult, and Rainey, seeing his intent, did it for him and reported that the circulation in her toes was okay. Only then did he seem to realize it was she who was assisting.
    He said to the girl, “You’re gonna be the envy of all the kids at school, with a cast for everyone to sign,” making certain to speak to her as he and Rainey moved her injured leg to position a folded blanket between it and her good one, taking her mind off what was going on.
    “I need belts, strips of anything to tie her legs together.”
    Belts and girth straps and rope were instantly produced, as if coming out of the sky. Rainey had done this once before with a cousin, and she was able to work with him and his one available hand to secure the child’s legs together.
    A Bronco appeared, and Harry swiftly lifted the girl from the dirt and placed her in the back seat. He hopped out and assisted the hysterical mother in beside her daughter, and then rejoined the two at the girl’s feet.
    The Bronco started off, and Rainey stood there, holding the puppy by the lead, watching the figures through the dusty back window as the vehicle drove away as fast as possible over the clumps of grass.
    “He’s a doctor,” Neva said beside her.
    “Yes,” she said. Of all the things he could have been, she had not thought of this. She supposed she could understand more why he had been wanting to get away. She could imagine a doctor’s life must be very stressful.
    It looked like he wasn’t getting away far enough, though.

CHAPTER 9
    Pennies In Our Pockets
    R ainey drove to the hospital in Buck’s truck. It had a true truck transmission and difficult clutch. She about ran into the back of a little Fiat when she stopped in the parking lot.
    Upon entering through the emergency doors, she was immediately set upon by the child’s mother, who pressed Harry’s shirt to Rainey and proceeded to thank her in an overwhelmingly sincere fashion for bringing Harry to the arena. The woman credited Harry’s very presence as the sole cause for her daughter not suffering any internal injuries. In fact, she seemed to credit Rainey for Harry’s very presence in the world and appeared possessed of the belief that Rainey had known he would be needed and had therefore brought him deliberately to save the day.
    Rainey thought the woman was either on drugs or needed some.
    “Perhaps you should speak to the doctors,” she said, trying to guide the woman to a chair in the hall and looking around for a nurse to help. She had a sense that the woman, having heldherself together by a thread through her daughter’s emergency, was now giving way to her hysteria with gratefulness, in the way of someone who has perhaps been taking her child for granted.
    “Oh, I could have lost her,” the woman repeated a number of times. She only barely sat in the chair and then popped up, about to grab the man mopping the floor and thank him, too, except that she was taken in hand by a nurse and led away to sign forms.
    For a moment Rainey wondered about her mother’s pillow and sweater, and then she decided to give them up for lost—her mother would probably have been thrilled to know her old things had seen a crisis—and turned to find Harry.
    A nurse at the desk said that she had seen him disappear moments before into the men’s room. Clutching his shirt, Rainey went to stand beside the door. She wanted to give him his shirt immediately. No doubt he felt odd walking around a hospital half bare. He would be cold. He had hard, wiry muscles, not an ounce of fat to provide warmth.
    She stood there, smelling the hospital smell, which reminded her of her mother breathing her last in a hospital room, when she should have been breathing that last at home. She blinked to clear