People stepped back. Dr. Lawrence knelt on Roan’s other side, checking his pulse and his breathing. “He’s hypothermic,” the doctor said. “We need to warm him gradually. Someone get every blanket you can find. Coats, tablecloths, anything.”
Grace was already moving, calling out orders. Mia appeared with armloads of linens from the restaurant. Staff rushed to help.
“Did anyone call 9 1 1?” Dr. Lawrence asked.
“Yes,” Walter said. “Ambulance is about ten minutes out. Roads are bad.”
“Jason, help me get him closer to the heater.” Dr. Lawrence pointed to the industrial heater near the stage. “We need to raise his core temperature slowly.”
They lifted Roan carefully and carried him across the dining room floor. People parted silently, watching with obvious concern and horror. They laid him on the floor by the heater.
“His clothes are soaked,” Dr. Lawrence said. “We need to get these off him. Jason, Walter, help me.”
They worked quickly, removing Roan’s destroyed coat first, then his suit jacket. As Jason lifted it away, something soggy fell from the inner pocket onto the floor.
Grace bent to pick it up. “Oh my …” She held up the destroyed corsage with its crushed white roses and muddy ribbon dripping water.
Emma’s hand flew to her mouth. “A prom corsage. He was bringing Reese her prom corsage.”
Reese felt fresh tears spill down her cheeks. Oh, Roan. How could she have doubted him even for a second?
Grace carefully set the ruined corsage aside on a nearby table, then helped as they continued removing Roan’s soaking shirt, his ruined dress shoes. Everything was wet, muddy, frozen in places. Dr. Lawrence checked Roan’s fingers and toes, looking for frostbite.
The kids gathered closer, Emma and Julia in tears, the boys stoic but pale.
“Is he going to be okay?” Cody asked.
“His core temperature’s dangerously low, but his vitals are stable. He’s going to be fine.” Dr. Lawrence looked up at him. “He fell into water, that much is obvious. I’m assuming he had a car accident of some kind.”
Reese let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “He was supposed to be here at six. It must have happened on the way into town.”
Grace appeared with more blankets and coats, piling them on. Roan’s whole body was convulsing with shivers.
“Roan, please,” Reese whispered, holding his frozen hand. “Please be okay. Please.”
His eyes fluttered open. Just for a moment. He looked around, disoriented, then found Reese.
“Made it,” Roan whispered. “I’m sorry I let you down.”
Then his eyes closed again.
“Roan, please.” Reese grabbed his hand tighter. “Stay with me. Please stay with me.”
Dr. Lawrence pulled more blankets up around Roan’s shoulders. “He’s stable. The warming process just takes time. His body went through significant trauma.”
Five minutes passed. Ten. Slowly, gradually, Roan’s shivering began to subside. Color started returning to his face. His breathing deepened.
Finally, his eyes opened again. This time they stayed open, focused.
“Hi,” he managed, his voice hoarse.
“Hi,” Reese sobbed. “What happened to you?”
Roan tried to sit up. Dr. Lawrence helped him, supporting his back, keeping the blankets wrapped around him.
“Moose,” Roan said.
“What?”
