Megan's Hero (The Callahans of Texas Book #3): A Novel

by Gillenwater, Sharon

  “You got hit by a tornado.” Déjà vu all over again. Megan guessed right—concussion.

  “No kiddin’?”

  Two pickups pulled in behind his. “Dad and the boys are here.” Will braced Ted’s head again to keep him from moving. “I’m just going to hold your head steady.”

  “Okay.” Ted closed his eyes.

  His dad and Chance joined him a minute later. His brother-in-law, Nate, stopped by Will’s pickup to check on Megan.

  “How is he?” Chance asked quietly, squatting down beside him.

  “Not as good as I’d like. You hold his head while I call Johnny and give him an update.” He leaned closer to the injured man. “Ted, Chance is going to stay with you while I call Johnny.” No response. Will carefully lifted his hands and shifted back out of Chance’s way.

  “He’s unconscious?” Chance framed the driver’s head with his hands.

  “He’s been talking, but I think he passed out a minute ago.” Will moved a few steps away and hit the speed dial for the paramedic. “Johnny. It’s Will. The trucker is Ted Bentley out of San Angelo. Leg’s definitely broken. Ribs either bruised or broken. Head injury, at least a concussion. He doesn’t remember the accident. Short-term memory isn’t good. I told him what happened, but he didn’t remember it a few minutes later.

  “Pulse fifty-five and weak. Respiration twenty-six and shallow. He said it hurts to breathe deep. He was talking up to a few minutes ago, but he’s unconscious now. He’s lying on his side, still in the seat, against the door. I didn’t get a chance to ask about medical history. He works for Best Lumber in San Angelo, so they could put Lisa in touch with his family.”

  “I’ll give her a call,” said Johnny. “Don’t let him move.” The siren wailed, almost drowning out his voice.

  “Chance is holding his head steady. What’s your ETA?”

  “Five minutes. You know Butch. He loves these country calls ’cause he can go warp speed.”

  “We’re about a mile past the ranch entrance. Don’t fly past us.”

  “We won’t.”

  Will hung up the phone and met his father’s gaze. Nate had joined them as he was making the call, so everyone heard the report. “They should be here in five minutes.” He looked at Nate. All the men in the family were volunteer firemen, so his brother-in-law knew what to watch for too. “How’s Megan?”

  “She’s okay. Getting warmer. Said she felt better after she ate the energy bar.” He smiled slightly. “She wanted to know what was up with everybody checking her pulse every few minutes.”

  “I get the impression she’s pretty independent.”

  “No wedding ring,” said Nate.

  Will had noticed that too. “Might not mean anything.” By the time he’d shared what little he knew about her, the EMTs had arrived. They hauled their equipment around the front of the truck before Butch went to examine Megan.

  Johnny took over Ted’s care, and the Callahans and Nate moved out of the way. Will shifted so he could see Megan as Butch examined her. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but she had a very expressive face. She was worried, and whatever Butch was telling her wasn’t easing her fears any.

  “She’ll need to go to the ER,” his dad said quietly.

  Will nodded. “Not only to clean off the glass and treat her cuts. Her pulse was irregular, and she felt faint earlier. I’ll take her in as soon as Butch gives the go-ahead.”

  He knew the others could take care of Ted and see to cleaning up the truck wreckage. “Her minivan is down the road, but I don’t know how far.”

  “We’ll handle it,” said Chance. “I’ll run down there and take a look as soon as we get Ted out of here. I’ll give Joe’s Towing a heads-up that we’ll be needing a wrecker.”

  “Sounds good.” Will glanced to see how Johnny was doing with the trucker. He had put a neck brace on him and was starting an IV. When Will looked back at Megan, she said something to Butch and emphatically shook her head. Butch was arguing with her, though clearly in a nice way. “Think I’ll go see what the problem is.” He caught Chance and Nate exchange a quick glance. “What?”

  His brother shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s just interesting to see you get all protective of the lady.”

  “What good is rescuing somebody and not following through to make sure she’s okay?” But in his heart, he knew that wasn’t the whole truth. Despite her determination and resourcefulness, Will sensed a vulnerability in Megan. He had the feeling she needed a friend, and he intended to be one, if only for today.

  As he strolled over to his pickup, Megan asked the medic, “Can’t I just go somewhere and hose off the mud and glass?”

  “No, ma’am,” Butch said patiently. “You need to go to the hospital to be checked out more thoroughly.” She turned in the seat, putting her feet out the door opening, and he stepped back. Will stopped a few feet away, wondering why she was against going to the hospital when she’d been so worried about her baby earlier.

  “You said the baby’s heartbeat sounded okay.” She held her arms out away from the inside of the truck and brushed off some of the dried mud. “See, it’s coming off and taking the glass too.” Will noticed a little wince, though she tried to hide it. The glass wasn’t coming off as easily as she pretended.

  “I’ll just knock all this off and be done with it. Then we can figure out what to do with my van.” She slid out of the truck to the ground, forcing Butch to move farther back. He almost tripped over his bag and looked away as he moved it over with his foot.

  She took a step and swayed, the color draining from her face. Will jumped forward, swept her up in his arms, and tipped her feet higher than her head. She sure didn’t weigh much. When she wasn’t pregnant, she wouldn’t be bigger than a minute.

  She hung limply almost upside down for a few seconds, then grabbed hold of his shirt with one hand and frowned at him. “Put me down.”

  Her voice wasn’t nearly as forceful as he expected she intended. Ignoring her, he glanced at Butch.

  “Not yet.” The EMT checked the pulse in her throat and wrist again, then wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm and pumped it up.

  She attempted to glare at the medic, but it was a puny effort. The woman was feisty, which Will admired. But she wasn’t showing much common sense at the moment.

  Butch took her blood pressure, then removed the cuff. “Okay, you can raise her up now, but no standing. Put her on the seat and take her to the hospital.”

  Will slowly lowered her knees and raised her shoulders, holding her a little longer than was necessary. “Let us take care of you, Megan,” he said quietly. Confusion and a hint of fear clouded her face. He played his ace. “And your child. Let’s make sure Sweet Baby is okay.”

  Tears misted her eyes, and she swallowed hard as he carefully placed her on the truck seat. “I want to, but I don’t have any insurance,” she said softly. When she looked up at him, her eyes were dark with worry—and shame. “Or the money to pay for a visit to the ER. I don’t want to be a charity case.”

  “I’ll cover it.”

  “I can’t let—”

  “It’s not up to you.” He grabbed the seat belt, leaned over her, and fastened it with an emphatic click. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Then I’ll pay you back. As soon as I can. When I find another job.”

  She didn’t need to. His bank account was stuffed full and bustin’ at the seams, but he suspected it was very important for her to carry her own load. “Deal.”

  He shut her door and stopped to check with Butch. “Is she okay?”

  “I think so, but I’m concerned about her almost fainting. Could just be an emotional reaction to what she’s been through or something else going on with her pregnancy. I expect they’ll want to keep her overnight.”

  “They should. She’s been through a lot today and will have a lot more hassles before things get straightened out with her van.” If she didn’t have a job or health insurance, she probably didn’t hav
e car insurance, either. “She doesn’t need to be fighting any health issues too.”

  Butch grinned. “Being pregnant is enough to deal with all by itself.”

  Will waved to his dad and got into the pickup. Megan glanced at him, then closed her eyes. He turned around and started up the highway toward Callahan Crossing just as his friend, Deputy Sheriff Dalton Renfro, arrived along with the fire truck and a couple more volunteer firemen. He just waved and kept going. Somebody else could bring them up to speed.

  He thought she was asleep, but right after they drove past the entrance to the Callahan Ranch, she turned to look at him. “Callahan Ranch, Callahan Crossing. You’re that Callahan?”

  “One of them. The rest of the men in my family came to help. You met Nate, my brother-in-law. He’s married to my sister, Jenna. The other two are my dad, Dub, and my brother, Chance.”

  Her tired smile held a hint of whimsy. “I never had a real cowboy ride to my rescue before.”

  Will grinned. “Sorry I didn’t ride up on a white horse.”

  “I’m not. Pickup’s better.” Her smile faded. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She kept studying him until he grew uncomfortable. “What?”

  “Are you for real? Or is this good guy stuff just an act? What are you going to want in return?”

  “Nothing. People around here help each other, Megan.”

  “Even strangers?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s just the way it is. God has blessed us, so it’s only right that we do what we can for other folks.”

  “So you believe in God?”

  “Yes. Do you?”

  She nodded, looked out at the passing scenery, then rested her head against the seat again and closed her eyes. “After today I do.”

  4

  Megan had never been a patient in an emergency room, and she didn’t like being one now. She wore a clean hospital gown, though dried mud and glass remained on her arms and legs. Her filthy shoes and filthy clothes were stuffed in plastic bags and hung on a hook on the wall. Except for her top, which was in the garbage. Miniscule glass fragments had covered a good portion of the back and part of each side. The nurse had cut it off rather than pull it over Megan’s head and risk getting glass on her face or in her eyes.

  That was my favorite blouse, Megan thought sullenly.

  Which she couldn’t have used again anyway. But an idiotic anger had her ready to lash out at someone. The past six months had been enough to tick anybody off. She’d gotten pregnant—definitely not planned—then was so sick that she had to give up a job she enjoyed. She’d used up her savings and still lost the apartment. And when she did feel good enough to look for another job, there weren’t any. It had been the pits.

  But she’d adapted, living in the van and camping in parks for the past three weeks.

  Now, her tiny home-on-wheels might be useless. Most of her belongings had been gobbled up by the tornado. Even if the van could be repaired and she could somehow gather up everything, it wouldn’t matter. There was nothing of value left to sell.

  She didn’t want to think about how much this hour or two in the ER would cost. Will had said she could pay him back later, but when would that be? Job openings were few and far between. She’d looked in almost every town between San Angelo and Austin.

  And she had exactly fifty-five dollars and twenty-one cents to her name.

  Like mother, like daughter, she thought bitterly. The fruit didn’t fall far from the tree. Megan never drank, and the only thing she’d ever swiped was a pair of cheap earrings, but obviously she’d inherited Jackie’s lousy judgment when it came to men.

  She’d messed up her good, comfortable life and ruined everything she’d worked so hard to accomplish. She’d let down her guard and trusted a man who made promises he never intended to keep.

  A little tap, flutter, and wiggle sent a wave of relief and love washing through her. Sweet Baby was okay and doing a little boot scootin’ in her belly. She patted the little foot that bounced against her hand. Or maybe it was a tiny hand exploring his—or her—world.

  Okay, so maybe she hadn’t messed up so bad after all. At least now she’d have someone who loved her. And, for the first time in her life, she had someone to love. Quick tears stung her eyes. Stupid hormones. Crying wasn’t her style.

  She’d get through this. She’d had nothing when she took off at sixteen, but she’d worked hard and built a good life for herself. She could do it again at twenty-four.

  “It may take a while, Sweet Baby, but I’ll give you a good home,” she whispered.

  She scrunched up the pillow, raised the head of the bed a little more, and waited for the pleasant but no-nonsense nurse to return. The woman had strapped a fetal monitor around her belly first thing, explaining that it was the kind that sent a signal directly to the nurses’ station. It was also portable, so Megan wasn’t restricted to the bed by a bunch of wires.

  Not that she was interested in getting up right then. Despite the dried mud tightening up her skin, it felt good to rest and hide behind the curtain for a few minutes.

  Though it didn’t do much to keep out the world. She could hear snippets of conversations in other rooms and almost everything said at the nurses’ station. A constant beep came from somewhere that would drive her bonkers if she stayed there long. Every few minutes footsteps went up and down the hall, and occasionally something rolled by.

  Will hovered in the hallway. She couldn’t see him, but it seemed as if every person who walked by knew him and said hello. He knew them too, speaking in a deep, quiet voice, calling them by name and often asking about a family member. Particularly if they had a kid who played football. The man must know the stats on every high school player in town.

  Before long it seemed every woman in the small hospital had found some excuse to wander down to the ER and scope out the handsome cowboy leaning against the wall outside her room.

  It didn’t matter that his worn jeans were stained with mud from kneeling beside the truck. Or that sprinkles of glass had rubbed off her blouse onto his pale blue shirt when he picked her up. Somehow, the little dirt smudge on his cheek only made him more ruggedly appealing. About six-two, slim but muscular, with dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes, Will Callahan was the kind of man women of all ages fawned over.

  And he charmed them all. Three ladies had already stopped and asked about his mama, his sister, and his sister-in-law. He answered them politely—not revealing much, she noticed—and inquired about their families. No one mentioned his wife, so evidently he didn’t have one.

  Three more women stopped to flirt a bit. He responded with an easy banter that told Megan he was an expert at the game but didn’t take any of it seriously—and neither should they.

  The nurse bustled in and walked around to the far side of the bed. Everything about her, from her short pixie-style gray hair to the tailored bright blue top and pants and black Crocs made Megan think of competency and efficiency. She glanced at her name tag—Peg Renfro, RN.

  “You’re looking a bit perkier than when you came in.”

  “My baby has been wiggling around and practicing his—or her—line dancing.”

  The nurse smiled. “I expect that eases your mind some.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “This should too. Your baby’s heart rate is good, and you aren’t having any contractions. We have our twenty-minute baseline, so I can take the monitor off now.” She unfastened the wide stretchy straps holding the two electronic disks in place and motioned for Megan to lean up so she could pull them out from beneath her back. “We’ll check the baby’s heartbeat every thirty minutes, but I can just hold the transducer—the disk—in place for a minute or so to get that reading.”

  The nurse pressed a button or flipped a switch that Megan couldn’t see, and the blood pressure cuff that had been wrapped around her arm inflated, making her wince. The dumb thing was so t
ight it hurt. That had to send her blood pressure up a few notches. How many times did they have to check it anyway?

  “So you don’t know whether it’s a boy or girl?” asked a female doctor who stepped around the curtain and stopped at the foot of the bed. She appeared to be in her early thirties.

  “No, ma’am.”

  The doctor moved closer and held out her hand. “I’m Dr. Cindy Jarman, though most people around here just call me Dr. Cindy. I hear you’ve had a wild day.”

  “That’s a good description.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Pretty good. I don’t feel tired and weak now.”

  “Do you have a headache?” Dr. Cindy gently pressed here and there on her abdomen. She smiled when Sweet Baby gave her hand a little nudge.

  “Yes. Not real bad, though.”

  “Have you been having a lot of headaches?”

  “Several in the last few weeks.” But she figured she’d had enough tension to cause them, even when she’d spent a lot more time resting than she would have if she’d been working.

  “Butch said you almost passed out after he examined you.”

  “I don’t think I was really going to faint. I was just real dizzy.”

  “Has that happened other times recently?”

  “Twice this past week. I thought it had stopped after I quit barfing all the time.”

  The doctor hooked the earpieces of the stethoscope into her ears. She checked Megan’s heart and lungs, then moved down to her stomach and listened to the baby’s heartbeat.

  When she raised her head and removed the instrument from her ears, she nodded. “One-hundred-fifty beats a minute. Strong and steady.”

  She inspected the bruises on Megan’s arm and leg and shook her head at the mud and glass. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

  “A couple of years ago.”

  “Good. One less thing to worry about. Both you and your baby are a little small for twenty-eight weeks along. Did we get that number right?”

  “Yes. I’ve been sick most of my pregnancy. When I wasn’t barfing, I was still so nauseated that I couldn’t eat much. About all I could do was lie in bed or on the couch. It started at the end of my first month and lasted until four weeks ago.”