Sawyer

ONE MINUTE he'd been reveling in the late afternoon sun, feeling the sweat dry on his shoulders and neck before he could wipe it away. In the next instant, she was there. He'd just glanced over at his son, Casey, only fifteen, but working as hard as any man, tall and strong and deter-mined. His smile was filled with incredible pride. The last two weekends he'd been caught up with pa-tients, and he'd missed working outside with Casey, enjoy-physical strain tired him. Summer scents were heavy in the air, drifting to him as he layered another replacement board on the fence and hammered it in. A warm, humid breeze stirred his hair, bringing with it the promise of a harsh evening storm. He'd inhaled deeply, thinking how perfect his life was. Then his son shouted, "Holy sh--ah, heck!" catching Sawyer's attention. Not knowing what to expect, Sawyer turned in the di-rection Casey pointed his hammer and disbelief filled him as a rusted sedan, moving at breakneck speed, came bar-reling down the gravel road bordering their property. The turn at the bottom, hugging the Kentucky hills, was sharp; the car would never make it. Sawyer got a mere glimpse of a pale, wide-eyed female face behind the wheel before, tires squealing, gravel flying, the car came right through the fence he'd just repaired, splin-tering wood and scattering nails, forcing him to leap for cover. Sheer momentum sent the car airborne for a few feet before it hit the grassy ground with a loud thump and was propelled forward several more feet to slide hood first into a narrow cove of the lake. The front end was submerged, hissing and bubbling, while the trunk and back wheels still rested on solid land, leaving the car at a crazy tilt. Both Sawyer and Casey stood frozen for several sec-onds, stunned by what had happened, before ungluing their feet and rushing to the edge of the small cove. With-out hesitation, Casey waded waist-deep into the water and peered in the driver's window. "It's a girl!" Sawyer pushed him aside and leaned down. His breath caught and held. "Girl" wasn't exactly an apt description of the unconscious woman inside. In a heart-beat, he took in all her features, scanning her from head to toes. As a doctor, he looked for signs of injury, but as a man, he appreciated how incredibly, utterly feminine she was. He guessed her to be in her mid-twenties. Young, a tiny woman, but definitely full grown. The window was thankfully open, giving him easy ac-cess to her, but water rapidly washed into the car, almost covering her shins. Silently cursing himself and his mas-culine, knee-jerk reaction to her, he told Casey, "Go to the truck and call Gabe at the house. Tell him to meet us out front." Casey hurried off while Sawyer considered the situa-tion. The woman was out cold, her head slumped over the filled with taped cardboard boxes and luggage, some of which had tumbled forward, landing awkwardly against her. A few open crates had dumped, and items--bric-a-brac, books and framed photos--were strewn about. It was obvious she'd been packed up for a long trip--or a permanent one. Sawyer reached for her delicate wrist and was rewarded to feel a strong pulse. Her skin was velvety smooth, warm to the touch. He carefully placed her hand back in her lap, keeping it away from the icy cold water. It took some doing, but he got the driver's door wedged open. If the car had surged a little deeper into the lake, he never would have managed it. More water flooded in. The woman moaned and turned her head, pushing away from the steering wheel, then dropping forward again. Her easy, unconscious movements assured Sawyer she had no spi-nal or neck injuries. After moving the fallen objects away from her, he carefully checked her slender arms, slipping his fingers over her warm flesh, gently flexing each elbow, wrist and shoulder. He drew his hands over her jeans-clad legFoster, Lori is the author of 'Sawyer ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373198580 and ISBN 0373198582.