She looks at the cop and the paramedics, who are all waiting for her to decide what to do.
“It’s up to you, ma’am,” the cop says. “But I’m a state trooper, not a local. This man probably knows more about the town you were heading toward.”
The woman looks up at me warily. Is she trying to figure out if I’m a serial killer?
I hold out my hand. “I’m Carter. I have a child as well, and it’s just us. He’s older than… Amelia, was it?”
She nods. “I’m Kenna.”
“Nice to meet you, Kenna. Why don’t you get your purse, and I’ll get Amelia’s booster seat.”
“It’s a car seat,” Kenna says. “She isn’t heavy enough for a booster yet.”
I regard the young red-headed girl who, even covered with a bulky blanket, looks petite like her mom. And, like her mom,she has incredible green eyes. What an amazing combination. Red hair. Green eyes. This little girl is going to need bodyguards when she hits puberty.
Unsure of why I feel so protective of the girl and her mom, I head over to the car, already mentally assessing the damage as I near it. No way will it be fixed anytime soon. It’s a nice car. Not your run-of-the-mill Honda. We’ll probably need to special-order some parts. And there’s a lot of body work to be done as the entire front right quarter panel is smashed in. There’ll be engine damage for sure.
Entering through the rear door, I unbuckle the car seat and anchor. I grab what looks like a diaper bag, but it’s not filled with diapers or formula. Snacks, books, and juice boxes litter the floorboard where it all spilled. I quickly put everything back inside, then, at the last second, reach over and pick up a stuffed animal. No, not a stuffed animal. It’s an animal head—an elephant to be exact—but there’s just a blanket where the body would be.
A smile crosses my face. Christian used to have one of these when he was little. His had the face of a bear. He carried it everywhere. And because it was part blanket, it was easier for him to hold onto while navigating with his walker back before he used forearm crutches.
I look back at the girl, wondering if she’s as attached to this thing as Christian was to his. In fact, I think I still have his ‘boo-boo’ stashed away somewhere. Probably in the box filled with a bunch of other childhood things like his going-home-from-the-hospital outfit, his first lost tooth, a lock of hair from his first haircut, and the many many drawings he’d done. I still add to it from time to time when he gets a great report card, an award, or certificate of accomplishment, which—proud dad moment—he seems to earn on a regular basis.
I put down the bag and car seat and head over to the little girl. I crouch down so I’m nearly eye level with her. “Amelia, this little guy doesn’t happen to belong to you, does he?”
She smiles and snatches the elephant head from me, hugging it tightly.
“Does it have a name? When my son Christian had one like this, he called it ‘boo-boo’.”
“His name is Horton,” she says almost in a whisper.
My cold face cracks into a smile, and I put on my best ‘Horton’ voice. “Don’t give up! I believe in you all. A person’s a person, no matter how small!”
Her eyes light up and I could swear she almost giggles.Almost. And somehow I get the feeling it would be the sound of angels.
Kenna chuckles, albeit sadly. “Okay, now I know you aren’t lying about having a kid. There are not many men who can quote Dr. Seuss books.”
“Why would I lie about having a child?” I hold out my arms and shrug. “And, when you raise a kid on your own, you have to be both Mom and Dad. But I’m betting you know that too.”
She nods. “Mind if we get in your truck now? Amelia is looking cold.”
“Right this way. It’s been running and should be nice and warm. I’ll install the seat in the back row and you can both wait there while I get the car hooked up.”
Her gaze meets the ground. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“I’ve seen worse. It’s not totaled, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I should have waited. But…” She looks at me. “I… just should have waited. I can’t believe we didn’t even get fifty miles.”
There’s definitely a story there. But it’s not the time to pry. Nor is it my place.
“Come on, let’s get you settled in the back.”
Chapter Two
Kenna
Amelia’s lower lip quivers a bit as I get her situated in her car seat. I tuck a piece of loose hair back into her braid, frame her face with shaking hands, and press a gentle kiss on her forehead. She’s trying to be strong, but this is a stressful situation for anyone, let alone a four-year-old.
