The Mansfield Rescue by Beth Cornelison

Author:Beth Cornelison
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-11-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Adrenaline coursed through Amy, shaking her as hard from the inside as the storm lashed her on the outside. The terror of howling wind and the chaos of storm-tossed debris ravaged them for what seemed, impossibly, both a mind-numbing eternity and a devastating instant at the same time. When the thunderous cacophony subsided and the clamor around them calmed, Amy dared to crack open her eyes. She peeked up at what used to be the ceiling and found they were lying beneath a cage of branches and leaves. She swiped water off her face and craned her neck for a better look.

Yes. They were surrounded by a broken tangle of fat limbs and broken two-by-four studs. A tree had fallen on the playhouse, and only the small wooden table and a couple of well-positioned branches had kept the trunk of the oak tree from crushing them. Amy drew a shuddering breath. “Grant? Are you okay?”

He groaned, and his hand flexed against her back.

She remembered his cry of pain, and her chest tightened. “Grant?” She tried to scoot back from him, and her head and shoulders bumped a wall of bark. Trying again, she tipped her head at an angle and met the pained expression in his eyes. “Are you hurt?”

His cheeks and forehead bore a few tiny cuts from the shards of glass and splintered wood. Raising her hands into her line of vision and touching her cheeks, she discovered she had similar minor injuries.

“I’m still trying to decide,” he murmured.

She understood. Shock still had her numb and trembling. When the adrenaline wore off, she would likely feel the brunt of the lashing they’d taken. Amy took a minute to calm her frayed nerves and slow her breathing. She took a mental assessment of her condition. The hard thwack on her legs, she realized, had been a branch of the tree as it crashed onto them. With effort, she moved her leg. No sharp pain indicating a break. She could slide her foot side to side a few inches, so she at least wasn’t pinned by the tree, even if the branches caged them. She managed to raise her head a few inches and gaze down the length of their bodies, checking for blood, for a gap where they could wiggle free. She saw neither.

“Grant...” She twisted as best she could in the confined space beneath the table and the cave of limbs. “I think we’re trapped. Can you see a way out on your side?”

He didn’t respond, and she cut her gaze toward him again. His eyes were closed, his face contorted and his breathing shallow. “Grant? You are hurt. Where?”

“I took a rabbit punch to the kidney. I’m sore, but...I doubt there’s internal damage.” Keeping his eyes shut, he drew a slow breath through his nose and blew it through his lips.

Her gut twisted. Clearly he was in pain. The sooner they found a way out and got him to a hospital, the better. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Are your legs trapped?”

He shifted his body then grunted in pain.

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