“Hey,” I whispered, “you were paying attention. That’s why Danny only has a hurt wrist.” I nodded toward the tree and the branch that ripped part of Adam’s coat, and wondered how he fared underneath. “Is your back okay? I think it’s scra?—”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” He shook his head.
I don’t think he would even know. If Danny was hurting, he was all that existed. He scooped up Danny and hurried back toward the truck.
I rushed forward, pulled open the truck door, and climbed into the middle. I took off Adam’s borrowed coat, ignoring the cold, so I could use it to prop Danny’s arm and wrist. “Here, lean him on me and I can try to keep his wrist stable.”
Adam’s shoulders dropped lower, then he gently transferred a whimpering Danny to me.
Adam ran around to his side, slid in beside me, and roared the truck to life. He shifted into drive and cranked up the heat. I was so glad that we had already loaded the four wheeler and trees.
Adam kept his focus on pot holes as we started back down the dirt road.
I looked at Danny’s face streaked with tears, and my heart couldn’t take it. “Frosty the snowman was a very happy soul…” I quietly sang his favorite song.
He eventually relaxed against my side and fell into a restless sleep as I rubbed his hair.
Once we had driven far enough to get cell service, my cell phone pinged with notifications, and I ignored them all. We were still an hour from the nearest hospital in Clifton. I glanced over at Adam. He was reaching for his phone that was in a cubby in the dash between us.
“Here.” I picked up his phone and handed it to him. “Or I can text someone if you want?”
“That’s probably best.” He unlocked the phone and handed it back. It had a cracked screen with a picture of Danny’s young face.
“If you click on messages, can you text my mom and let her know we are headed to Clifton to get Danny’s wrist checked?”
I forced myself not to peek through his other texts. His mom’s contact was pinned at the top. I clicked on it, and there had been several recent texts from her asking to let her know when he was safe. I started texting. “Headed to Clifton to get Danny’s wrist checked…” I spoke as I wrote. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, for her not to freak out, and I’ll call her when we get there.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“Okay… Don’t freak out. I will call as soon as I can.” I looked up at him. “Want me to hit send?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
I sent the message and set his phone back in the compartment.
“I can drop you off in Hillsdale, but I need to go to the Urgent Care.” We left the dirt road and mountains behind.
I shook my head. “I’m in no hurry. I can come.” I could tell Adam was overwhelmed, and having someone with him might help calm him and Danny. I opened my phone and texted Rose that I would be home later than planned.
Adam pulled out onto the paved road.
The town lights of Hillsdale twinkled up ahead, dusk fully faded. We passed the gas station, Merritt’s, and the old law office building. It looked as if someone was renovating it. Last I heard, Harry still owned the building, but since his wife passed on, he spent most of his time with grandkids. Scott and Marissa bought out the law office business and moved it to the B&B.
We drove through the outskirts of Hillsdale on the other side. Houses started to get farther apart. There were snow-covered fields and the occasional farmhouse with Christmas lights.
I glanced over at Adam. His fist was clenched on his leg, and the muscles up his forearms were tight.
“This isn’t your fault, you know,” I whispered to him.
He harrumphed. “I should have been more careful.”
“You were. That’s how you got him out of the tree’s path.”
He shook his head. “I should have watched how we fell.” He cursed and smacked the steering wheel.
I saw his anger for what it actually was, fear.
I reached over and touched his shoulder. “Careful, anxiety spirals won’t solve anything. Trust me.” I put my hand on top of his clenched fist. I felt Adam startle, but he didn’t pull away. “I know a thing or two about anxiety spirals. And what Danny needs now is love. He will feel your frustration and might interpret you as being mad.”
