Reflecting Love's Charms (Bellingwood Book 14) by Diane Greenwood Muir Page B

on the carotid artery. "I can't find a pulse, Aaron, but I'm not sure. She's really beat up. I don't know if she was hit by a car or what, though."
    "Someone's on the way. Can you stay with her?"
    "Of course I can."
    The young woman jerked and Polly jumped. "She just jerked. Tell me that isn't a dead person convulsion or something," Polly gasped into the phone.
    "I don't think so. Check her again," he said.
    "Miss, can you hear me?" Polly asked, leaning back in. There was no response, but she saw the girl's eyelids flutter. "Aaron, she's alive. Tell them to hurry."
    "Don't move," Polly said, touching the girl's arm. "I'm going to get some blankets."
    A low moan was the only response as Polly ran back to the truck. "Aaron, can I talk to you later? I need my hands."
    "I'll be there as soon as I can."
    Polly scrambled into the back seat of her truck and yanked out the towels and blankets she kept back there for the dogs. This was the second time she'd used them for something like this. She was never leaving the house without a pile of these again. She backed out of the truck and looked up as another vehicle slowed down to a stop behind her.
    "Are you okay?" a young man asked, getting out of the passenger seat. He took in the scene in front of her truck and rushed up. "Can I help you? Did you hit her?"
    "No," Polly said. "I just found her. The ambulance is on the way. I've already called the sheriff." She handed him a blanket. "We need to keep her warm. Take this and cover her legs."
    "What happened?" a woman asked, running up. "Oh! The poor girl. Do you know who it is?"
    Polly didn't say anything, just began layering towels across the girl's torso while looking her over. Bruises covered her face and upper arms, like a beating gone horribly bad. As the young man placed the blanket across her legs, he and Polly grimaced at each other over the cuts and bruises below her shorts.
    "Help me," a weak voice cracked.
    "I'm right here. My name is Polly Giller and I've called the sheriff. They'll be here to take care of you in a few minutes."
    "Am I dead?"
    "No honey, you're very much alive. I wasn't sure there for a minute, though."
    "Polly Giller?"
    Nervous laughter bubbled out of Polly. "Apparently, I find live people who need me, too," she said. "Don't worry. You're going to be fine." She sat down on the highway in front of the girl and slid her hand under the girl's hand that was resting on the asphalt. "Can you tell me your name?" Polly asked.
    There was no response, so Polly lifted her hand, raising the girl's arm, which sent tremors through her body. Something was broken there, the pain waking the girl back up.
    "What's your name, honey," Polly asked quietly, leaning in.
    "Lynn."
    "Lynn, as far as I know, you need to try to stay awake until the ambulance gets here. You scare me when you drift off."
    "Sorry," Lynn whispered.
    "No need to be sorry. I just want you to be okay. Did you get hit by a car?"
    Tears leaked from the girl's eyes. "No."
    "Are you from around here?"
    "No," Lynn said.
    It was obvious to Polly that Lynn didn't want to answer questions about what had happened, but Polly wanted to keep her talking. Then it occurred to Polly that if Lynn knew about her history with dead bodies, she'd just lied.
    "What's your name?" Polly asked the young man, who was probably in high school.
    He looked up at the woman, as if to ask for permission. She nodded after checking her watch.
    "I'm Josh Kramer. This is my mom, Madeline."
    "Thanks for stopping, Josh. This is Lynn."
    He looked at Polly, then said. "Nice to meet you, Lynn. I'm sorry you're hurt."
    "Are you from Bellingwood, Josh?" Polly asked.
    His mother bent forward. "No, we're from Stratford. We had an appointment in Boone. But we're going to be too late for it now. I should call them." She walked back toward her car.
    "I'm going to DMACC this fall," Josh said.
    "Yeah? What kind of courses."
    "Civil Engineering. I want to work outside." He breathed. "But I'm not a farmer. Dad