Cutter

by Laramie Briscoe

  Highly emotional meet-up? Oh yeah, the hurricane definitely moved things along.

  Attraction? We’ve got that in spades.

  Chemistry? Thinking about her right now is giving me wood.

  But there’s something that makes the back of my neck itch. We don’t know much about each other on the inside. What we do seem to know is slightly superficial. I get the feeling she holds parts of herself back, and it’s imperative I know what those parts are.

  “I think I understand what you’re saying.” I rub Major’s head absent-mindedly.

  “Do you?”

  “She and I, we haven’t had the deep conversations, we’ve scratched the surface, but nothing has gone iceberg level.”

  “Iceberg level?” He makes a noise in his throat.

  “Yeah, how you can see a little bit sticking out of the water, but there’s years and years of bad habits and decisions below the surface? Ya know, iceberg level.”

  “That’s an interesting way of putting it.”

  Truth be told it’s the analogy most like my life. I let everybody see that tiny little bit above the water. The mass they can run into and be stopped, but underneath? Nobody’s seen that for a very long time, and I realize I have a decision to make too. Am I willing to let her in? Am I willing to tell her about Tuscaloosa? Lay myself bare and let her see the worst days I had, how I thought my young heart would never heal?

  I’m willing to tell her, just not right now.

  Not when our time together might be so short. Who knows what’s going to happen in the next few days. We don’t even know if we’ll be seeing each other after I leave.

  My chest tightens as I think about not seeing her again. Blowing out a deep breath, I try to not let the heaviness of the conversation bring me down, especially when we turn a curve and find a tree across the road.

  “I thought the department of transportation had taken care of all of these.”

  Tucker groans. “I did too, and I don’t know what’s in this SUV as far as saws go. Wonder if anybody’s been down this road?”

  “I hope so, if there are people living here and nobody has, they’ve been left alone for a long time.”

  Immediately the adrenaline surge I get when things start to happen rushes through me. My hands slightly shake as I get out of the SUV and run to the back. Popping the trunk, I search for the chainsaw most of these are equipped with. Tucker’s got Major out, and they’re going over to where the tree is across the road, presumably trying to see if there’s a way around it.

  “It’s completely blocking,” Tucker yells. “We’ve got to find a way to make a cut. I think I can see what looks like a driveway.”

  How he can see, I’m not sure, but I believe him. Tucker’s one of the best, and if he says we need to try and get through this, then we need to do it yesterday.

  Finding the only saw that’s back there, along with some gloves, I grab them up, running over to where Tucker and Major stand.

  “This is the skinniest part of the tree I can see. If we can at least make a spot for us to walk through, we can get back there and see if anyone needs help.”

  His logic is sound. “You want me to do the cutting, or do you?”

  “I’ll do it.” He gives me Major’s leash, and takes the saw from my hands.

  As we watch, I can’t help but think we need to get this done quickly, a feeling in my gut tells me someone needs our help, and they need it fast.

  I just hope we can get to them in time.

  It takes us an hour to get through the tree, and as soon as we have a clear path, I take off at a run, needing to be somewhere.

  Where?

  I don’t know.

  I just know I need to be there.

  “There’s the driveway I saw.” Tucker points to the left, indicating what could be a driveway. Right now though, it just looks like a gravel, rutted, mess, probably from the hurricane and torrential downpours.

  Running up the driveway, we make as much noise as we can to alert whoever may be living there.

  “Hello!”

  “Do you need help?”

  “Is anyone here?”

  That’s when we hear someone screaming. “Please help! My wife’s in labor. Please help us.”

  We look at each other, knowing there was a reason we had to come down this road. I kick my speed into high gear, similar to how fast I would run when playing football. When I get to the front porch, he’s holding the door open.

  “She’s been in labor the past fifteen hours, but I think she’s ready to push and I have no idea what to do.”

  “Don’t panic.” I look back at Tucker. “Go to the SUV and get my go bag. There’s a few things we can use in it, but you better call for an ambulance, that way we can get them to the hospital ASAP.”

  “Got it.”

  Major whines, looking between the two of us, not sure what he should do. He’s bonded so significantly with Karsyn, I think seeing this woman in pain is bothering him.

  “Go with Tuck,” I tell him. “We’ll be fine here.”

  He barks, then turns around, leaving me alone with these people I don’t know. It’s not the first time I’ve been in a situation like this, more than likely won’t be the last.

  “When did your water break?”

  “Yesterday,” the woman pants.

  She’s sweating, they don’t have power back yet here, and the only way I can see is a lantern they’ve lit in the room they’re in. “Are there windows in here?”

  “Just beyond those curtains,” the husband says.

  “Take them down so we’ll be able to see. I need to check how far along she is, and the more light I have the better.”

  When the light from outside exposes what’s happening, my stomach drops, there’s much more blood than there should be, and I’m scared this mother and baby may not make it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rowan

  “Did something happen to you?” Isaac asks, looking me up and down. “Get your hair cut or change your glasses?” He looks completely puzzled.

  “No, why?” I laugh.

  “You look different today.”

  “Different good, or different bad?”

  He tilts his head to the side. “Different good. You look more alive than I’ve probably seen you look in years.”

  Part of me wants to tell him it’s because of Cutter. All because of what we experienced together last night. Another part of me wants to keep it a secret. Like if I don’t tell anyone, it can never go away. I have a real fear it’ll go away. Nothing good in my life has stayed the same since I lost her.

  “You haven’t let yourself be happy in a long time, Ro. I think it’s okay to allow yourself whatever it is you’re doing.”

  Isaac knows. The way he quirks the side of his mouth is a giveaway. Not that I wouldn’t eventually tell him. To be partners, you have to trust the person you ride with implicitly. And I trust him more than I’ve trusted half the people in my life.

  “Is it though?” I question. “I’ve stopped asking myself what can go wrong, because so much can.”

  “Everybody has shit that goes wrong, Ro. It’s how you bounce back that matters.”

  A snort comes out of my nose. “Then I must be the slowest person in the world to bounce back.”

  “There’s not a time limit on it.”

  “I love you for being nice to me.” I wink at him. “You’re doing your best to keep my pride intact.”

  “Hey.” He looks over, as we finish up stocking our ambulance. “You’ve had to live through a lot. Most people will never have to deal with one-tenth of what you’ve dealt with. You’re allowed to take some time, no matter how long that time is. Nobody knows how we’re going to grieve. Especially not when we lose our children.”

  His kind words bring tears to my eyes.

  For months I’ve heard the whispers, people saying I should be living my life, not living in the shadow of Etta. Named after my favorite jazz singer. Being near New Orlean
s, I’ve always been a fan, even if it makes me feel like I’m from another time period. They’ve whispered I should get back out there, give my ex-husband another shot.

  They all think they know what happened, assume he’s repented. He’s a changed man, they whisper, but they don’t know the depths to which I was hurt. What I suffered that day. The one person who was supposed to be my rock to lean on. He’d stood by as I struggled to save her life, as I worked and worked to get her heart going again.

  Truth be told, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive him.

  Isaac looks like he wants to say something, but we’re interrupted by the radio going off. We listen intently.

  “Did I hear what I think I just heard?” I glance at him.

  He looks back at me, disbelief across his face. “I think so. Tucker and Cutter are delivering a baby.”

  “Let’s go!” I’m already scrambling to my seat in the passenger side of the ambulance, ready to go as Isaac takes the driver’s seat.

  When he turns on the lights and siren, my adrenaline automatically flows. It’s like some sort of conditioning I’ve become accustomed to. As soon as I hear those sounds, I immediately prepare myself for whatever may happen. It’s one of the only ways I’ve been able to do this job.

  Within minutes we’re on the road they’ve radioed in they were at. Then we encounter the tree.

  Of course the notch they made to go through isn’t big enough for our ambulance, it’s barely big enough for a stretcher. “You think we can carry it?”

  He looks at me, and I know he’s seeing me for the less imposing figure I make, but I’m strong.

  “I don’t know, Ro.”

  “I can do this.”

  “It’s really heavy.”

  “Don’t take it easy on me because I’m a woman, don’t think less of me. I can do what I need to so we can get the job done.”

  “I don’t doubt you, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  Anger and frustration fly all over me. “If I were a man would you be worried?”

  He shuts his mouth quickly. “Point taken, but just know, if you can’t do this - if you’re uncomfortable, I have it and I won’t think less of you.”

  While I appreciate what he’s saying, it doesn’t make me feel much better. He runs to the back of the rig, grabbing out what he thinks we may need. We fold up the stretcher, each taking an end.

  And together, we make the march to the house. Hoping we get there in time. Knowing there’s a real possibility we won’t. Before we get far enough down the driveway to see the house, we can hear her screaming.

  “She must be close,” I tell Isaac and the two of us pick up our pace.

  My arms are burning, my legs are on fire. He was right, this is heavy for me. Too heavy, but I won’t admit it. Not when someone needs my help as much as this woman sounds like she needs it.

  We get to the porch, Tucker and Major meeting us. “Thank God you’re here. Cutter’s got her in the bedroom, there’s a lot of blood.”

  My stomach drops. I’ve never lost a patient before. We’ve had to declare a few deceased, but they were already gone by the time we got there. In those cases there are no life-saving measures we can do. But every patient I’ve ever had has been alive when we got them to the hospital.

  I decide here and now, this one will be too. Both her and the baby. Nothing else will do. We get to the bedroom and I see the blood Tucker was talking about. Immediately we drop the stretcher and glove up.

  “What’s happening?” I ask Cutter as I take up the spot next to his shoulder.

  “I think she’s got a placental abruption,” he whispers. “I also think this baby is big and she’s tired. I’m not sure we’ll be able to deliver it.”

  Taking a look at the woman, she’s pale, her eyes are closed, and she’s very lethargic. “We can’t do a c-section here.”

  “Right? We’ve gotta get her to the hospital and it’ll take hours for us to cut that tree up.”

  “Then let’s go.” I look at Isaac, nodding at him. “We’ve got to move her.”

  Going up to her head, I put gloves on, and reach into my go bag for a cool pack. “How are you doing? What’s your name, honey?”

  “Anna.” Her voice is tired, barely there and really starting to scare me. “Anna, we’re gonna take care of you. When was your baby due?”

  “Not for another three weeks,” she moans as another contraction rips through her.

  Which means Cutter’s probably right in his assessment. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to get an IV running for you, to give you some fluids while we get you to the main road. Hopefully it’ll make you feel better.”

  She nods, but I’m unsure if she understands exactly what’s going on. Cutter and Isaac get her moved over, and I work on getting the IV started. Tucker and Major go before us, clearing away branches that will impede the stretcher. “Here.” I hand the IV bag to her husband. “You hold this up.” And in a lower voice, I warn, “Tell her you love her, she needs to hear it.”

  He takes my unspoken fear and immediately begins talk to her, telling her about all the plans they’ve made for the baby and their family. How she’s a fighter and she’s going to make it through this.

  In this moment, I do my best to separate from what’s happening. If we get too close, sometimes we can’t perform our jobs to the best of our abilities.

  It feels like a year, but eventually we see our ambulance and the SUV Tucker and Cutter were riding in. The group of us pick up our pace because we know we’re close.

  Once we get her onto the ambulance, Isaac takes his spot up front, Cutter and I start taking care of her in the back. When we get her hooked up to monitors, both of us sigh. The baby is still alive.

  “See this line?” I point to a squiggly line on a printout of paper. “That’s your baby. We’re gonna get you to the hospital and you’re going to be fine.”

  She looks like she believes me, and I’m glad I’m able to say the right things for her. At least I don’t feel as if I’m lying. Her heartbeat is strong, as is the baby’s.

  Cutter and I connect eyes over the stretcher, sharing a moment neither one of us probably thought we’d ever have. I smile at him, and he smiles back at me, proud that we were able to do this, thankful he knew what to do and lucky that God seemed to be on our side today.

  Stories like this? These are exactly why I decided to go into this field, and I hope later on in life I can meet this family again and see just how much they’ve grown.

  “It’s a girl,” the woman says. “We’re gonna name her Tatum for the hurricane.”

  Both Cutter and I laugh.

  “That seems right about perfect.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cutter

  My eyes watch Tucker as he’s putting his things together. We don’t leave until tomorrow afternoon, but here he is. Already getting his stuff packed. After the day we’ve had, I can’t believe he’s not experiencing the same kind of adrenaline crash I am.

  “You’re excited, huh?”

  He smiles that stupid smile of dudes in love everywhere. “Yeah, I can’t wait to see Syn, feel her wrapped in my arms, lay in bed with her. I miss every single thing about her. Even the shit I didn’t think I would miss.”

  I wonder if this is how it’s going to be for me, but obviously I’ll be the complete opposite. I’m not going home to the woman I love. I’m leaving the one I’m growing to know, thinking I can see a future with. It’s hard not to be excited for him, but it’s hitting me that tonight might be the last night Rowan and I ever see each other. We haven’t discussed what’s going to happen when the LSERT leaves.

  I guess we both thought we had more time. Tonight it’s the one thing not on our side. I have to see her. It’s not even a want, it’s a need. A feeling deep in my bones, thudding against the wall of my chest, electricity running through my veins. If I don’t see her now, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.

  “I’
ll be back.”

  “Going to see her?”

  “Yeah, don’t wait up.”

  He chuckles. “You ain’t here tomorrow at two, I’m not waitin’ on you. You can figure out your own way back to Laurel Springs.”

  “That’s fair.”

  “More than,” he argues.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  He throws something at me as I leave the room, but I duck in time for it to hit the door, instead of my head.

  “Two o’clock, Cutter!”

  “Got it.”

  But I really don’t. It’s hard to reconcile him being so excited to leave and me being so reluctant to let go. It’s not at all what I had planned, and the epitome of everything I said I’d never be.

  Going down to the truck we’ve been sharing since we got here, I get in, looking at the dashboard. There’s a picture of Karsyn, smiling up at Tucker like he’s her entire world. I’m man enough to admit I want it; I want every bit of what they have. Rowan’s picture on my dashboard? That’s right where it belongs.

  The streets of Paradise Lost are closed this time of night. The only people out are the ones who desperately need something or the first responders. Seeing Sullivan at a stop light, I give him a wave.

  He does the same back, and I wonder what he would think if he knew where I’m going, what I’m going to do? Would he be friendly or would he tell me to make sure I don’t hurt Rowan? One thing I’ve learned is I can’t live my life based on what other’s think of me. So I choose to ignore what he may think.

  The drive is quicker than I remember it being, almost as if I show up two seconds after I got in the truck. There’s a light on in her window, and I wonder if she’s sitting out on her balcony. Taking the stairs two at a time, I knock hurriedly, not wanting to waste a second of the time I’ll be able to spend with her.

  She comes to the door, carrying a bottle of Bud Light in her hand. “I hoped you’d be by tonight.”