I sighed and walked to the front window. Crap, the sky was that same weird pink. I glanced back at Micah—my guardian angel—and let the curtain fall closed before shutting my eyes and concentrating onnotgiving my grandmother another heart attack.
“First of all, I want you to know that I’m safe. I’m fine. Okay?”
“What the hell’s going on?”
“Got into an accident, leaving the work party.” She tried to talk and I pushed through. “I’m totally fine. Unhurt.” Not strictly true, but she didn’t need to know about my sore wrist and the shoulder I could barely move, or about the pain across my chest from where the seatbelt had held me back. It suddenly occurred to me, in a weird aside, that my airbag hadn’t deployed. Probably a good thing, given the situation. Last thing I’d need on top of this was a broken nose. “But the car’s…gone.”
Silence.
“Gran?”
“Gone,” she repeated, without inflection. So much for not freaking her out. No way would I tell her about the stuff that happened before I left my boss’s house.Ex-boss.
“There’s black ice up here. Hairpin curves. I braked and…” I shut my eyes hard against the wave of nausea that overtook me, took a step back and made it to the sofa, where I collapsed with anoof. My voice came out flat. “Went off the side of a cliff, Gran.” I paused, expecting some kind of reaction. Nothing. I’d killed her. “You still there?”
“Yes. Go on. How are you calling me?”
“A man saved me. Gran, he’s my…” Angel, I almost said, but some instinct told me he wouldn’t like that. “Micah.” His eyes were on me. I could feel it, though I couldn’t look at him right now or I’d lose it. “He…”Don’t cry. Keep it in.“He climbed down a sheer rock face. Um, broke the car window, and, uh, pulled me out.”Hiccup.“Just as it dropped.” I inhaled, wishing I’d learned how to meditate, or actually gone to all those yoga classes I’d signed up for. “The car. The car dropped.”
“He there?” She used her all business voice.
“Yeah.”
“Put him on.”
“No, he’s…”
“Put. Him. On. Christa. I need to talk to the man who saved my baby’s life.”
“Um. Micah?” I held the phone out. “My Grandmother would like to talk to you.”
Expressionless, he stepped to the sofa, took the phone and said, “This is Micah Graham.”
He didn’t say much. A coupleYes, ma’amsandNo, ma’ams. The man had a good voice. Solid, but not overloud. Deep, and smooth… No, that wasn’t the right word. More likerich. Like a strong cup of black coffee. No freaking watered down lattes for this man.
I blinked. Was I delirious, comparing this man’s voice to a hot drink? These seemed an awful lot like the thoughts of a person teetering on the edge.
Oh, God, don’t think of edges right now.
One of the dogs—the big one. Brownie, I think?—nudged at my knee. I petted her unconsciously and sank deep into the sofa. It was one of those big, man-sized pieces of furniture. Soft and ridiculously comfortable. I tucked my legs under me and scratched behind the dog’s ear. It was soft, the movement repetitive and soothing. Micah spoke quietly into the phone. I could fall asleep to this.
“Here,” he said. My eyes popped open just as he put the phone into my hand.
“Oh. Thanks.”
“You there?” Gran sounded solid as a rock. Nothing could shock the woman. I wanted to be her when I grew up.
“Yeah.”
“You trust that man?”
I kept my gaze on the dog, remembering the feel of Micah’s hand holding mine, pulling me out of that death trap.
“Yes. I do.”
She exhaled on a long, low whistle. “There’s black ice all over the place. Non-stop sirens in town. You’re stuck there tonight, honey.” I opened my mouth to respond, but she barreled on. “He appears to be a decent young man, but I’m going to make some calls. He gave a reference—guy down at the Veteran’s Center. Kurt Anderson. Says he’ll vouch for him. I’ll call, just to make sure. I’ll also talk to the police in case he has a record or anything. And maybe they can get someone up there tonight, but…” She finally paused and I could picture her expression. The tight-lipped look that said she was holding everything inside. Her next words came out fast and rougher than I’d ever heard her. “I can’t lose you, Christa. Not after your dad. I can’t lose you, honey. Just stay put. Don’t try to go anywhere in this weather.”
“It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, Gran.”
