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If a rental car had been available, then she may well have been here alone to help the injured driver. What good could she have done? Ryan was a blessing. He checked the young woman’s pupils while talking to her, low and soothing.
    I bet he’s a great doctor. Admiration for him filled her up. She loved medical dramas on television, but this was something greater. This was real. Somber lines dug deep in Ryan’s face as he turned to her in the faint glow from his flashlight. How badly was the woman hurt?
    â€œWhat can I do to help?”
    â€œGo through the trunk. I’ll pull the latch. See if there’s anything to wrap her in. Blankets. Sheets. Something. We’ve got to get her warm.”
    At least she was alive. That was something. Praying, Kristin scrambled to the back of the car, lifting the trunk after it popped up. How could he be calm and steady? Okay, he was a doctor, he was used to this, butshe wasn’t. Fear jittered through her veins, leaving her quaking and her fingers clumsy as she began to push through the crowded trunk. Full laundry bags, textbooks, a laptop case… She spied a flashlight and tested it; it worked. She tucked that under her arm.
    As she kept digging, Ryan’s voice pulled at her like a fish on a line. She was hooked and unable to turn away. Had she ever heard a man sound like that? A deep gravelly baritone that was both hard-edged man and infinitely caring. Powerful and dependable. A man who could make anything right.
    Please, Father, help guide his hands tonight. Kristin moved aside a University of Idaho book bag, realizing the young driver was a college student, probably heading home for Thanksgiving, too. Would she be all right?
    She wasn’t moving. She was unconscious. At least Ryan was here. He knew what to do. Clutching the stadium blanket she’d found beneath the book bag, Kristin carefully picked her way through the knee-deep snow.
    Ryan must have heard her coming. Crouched in the open door, he twisted toward her. Worry lines furrowed deep in his forehead, but he managed a strained nod as his gaze pinned on the folded blanket. “Good. That will do just fine.”
    â€œHow is she?”
    â€œShe’s trying to stay awake for me.” Solemn, he took the blanket in exchange for his cell phone. “I’ve got dispatch to make this a priority.”
    Kristin didn’t need to ask. She could see the truth inhis eyes. The young college girl could be seriously injured. “What do you need me to do?”
    â€œThe car is stable. I’m not worried about it rolling any farther down the ravine. The trees here are pretty sturdy. How do you feel about climbing in the back seat?”
    â€œSure.” Kristin slipped the cell into her coat pocket, struggling with the stubborn door. Ice cracked around the handle and she slipped into the rapidly cooling interior of the compact sedan.
    The beam of the flashlight danced eerily around the silent passenger compartment, as Ryan wedged it into place on the dashboard. The golden stream illuminated a beaded cross hanging from the rearview mirror, a small stuffed puppy tucked into the middle console next to an insulated coffee cup with the name Samantha and the Greek symbols of a sorority printed on it. And then she saw the college girl’s thick and beautiful brown wavy hair matted with blood.
    Kristin shivered all the way to her bone marrow. The only time she’d seen anyone seriously hurt was after the private plane went down, when Allison had died. Her sister Kirby had also been in the plane, but had survived.
    Kristin had been a freshman in high school, and with all the time that had passed since, it felt so long ago. But the images returned as crisp and clear as if they’d happened an hour ago. The fear for her critically injured sister, the beep of machines, the frightening reality of death as they all waited for Kirby to regain consciousness, terrified that she’d slip