Lexy's Little Matchmaker. Lynda Sandoval

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Lexy's Little Matchmaker - Lynda Sandoval


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here!”

      Lexy exhaled, squeezing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Check the car, Ian. Take a breath and look carefully.”

      She heard the unlocking, the scrambling, Ian muttering to himself. A moment passed. “I have it! It fell out on the floor by the um … um … gas pedal.”

      Lexy crossed her fingers. “Run, Ian. Run back to your daddy and I’ll help you give him that shot.”

      “I…I know how,” he gasped out. More pounding. Voice jostling with his steps. “Daddy taught me ‘cuz he and I are a team now.”

      Oh, God. “Good. Run fast.”

      Adrenaline pumping, she tapped a pen rapidly on the console, her gaze ping-ponging from the call timer to the GPS map on a separate computer that showed the paramedics’ progress toward the scene, and back again. She focused on her young caller’s panting breaths, counting them.

       In, out. In, out. In, out.

       One, two. Three, four. Five, six.

      “L-Lexy?”

      “I’m here, honey.”

      “Don’t leave me.”

      “I won’t leave you.”

      Finally a shaky-voiced Ian said, “I’m b-back. He’s still not awake. He slid off the rock, Lexy. He’s on the ground.” The panic reared up, making his words higher pitched, thready.

      “That’s okay. Ian, you can still help him.” She had to tamp down his hysteria in order for him to be effective. She flicked a glance at the call timer: seven minutes. Lexy gulped and said a quick prayer in her mind. “Listen to me carefully. Open the package and get the shot ready. Did your daddy teach you that part?”

      “Yes. I c-can do it.”

      “Perfect. Set the phone down and do it. Then pick it back up and tell me when you’re done.”

      “’Kay.”

      The phone clattered to the ground. She listened to the package being torn, to Ian’s heavy breathing, to her own blood surging a staccato rhythm in her ears.

      More shuffling. “I’m ready. Lexy?” Ian asked.

      “I’m here. I need you to be brave, Ian, because, when I tell you to, you’re going to press that needle down into your daddy’s leg and hold it there for ten full seconds so he gets all the medicine. That’s very important. We’ll count the time together, okay?”

      “’Kay,” he said, in a whimper.

      “Now, do as I say. Put the tip of the shot against his upper leg and I’ll count to three. Then you’ll press down as hard as you can. And we’ll count out the seconds.”

      “W-will it hurt ‘im?”

      “No, sweetie, not at all. It just may save his life. Be strong for your daddy now, okay?”

      “’Kay.”

      “Ready?”

      “Yeah.”

      “One, two, three—go, Ian.”

      “I did it!”

      “Hold it down hard, no matter what, and let’s count,” she said in a rush. “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten,” they said together.

      Nothing.

      Lexy held her breath. Dane stood frozen.

      Even Ian remained silent.

      A muffled, unintelligible groan carried over the line, and Lexy had to blink back tears of relief and clamp her knuckles over her lips to maintain her cool.

      “He’s wakin’ up, Lexy! He’s wakin’ up!”

      She swallowed several times, leveled her tone. “Good, Ian.You did an excellent, excellent job.”

      “Daddy? Daddy! Wake up!”

      “The paramedics are almost there, okay, Ian? And they’ll take over. They’ll take good care of your daddy.”

      “Ian?” she heard a deep male voice slur.

      As expected, at the sound of his daddy’s voice, Ian lapsed into full-blown “refreak,” bursting into gut-wrenching, breath-stealing, choking and gagging sobs.

      “Ian, hand the phone to your daddy,” she said in a loud, firm tone, before she lost him completely. “Ian!”

      Some fumbling, then, “Hello?”

      “Drew Kimball?”

      “Ah.yeah?”

      “My name’s Lexy. This is Troublesome Gulch 9-1-1.”

      “Allergic,” he slurred. “Bees.”

      “I know. Ian told me. Don’t try to talk.” She could still hear Ian’s gulping wails in the background and they tore at her heart. “Just relax right where you are. The epinephrine your son administered will hold you over. Paramedics are almost there to help you, so hang tight.”

      He blew out a breath. “Yeah. ‘S okay, pal. C’mere.” A pause. “My son okay?” he asked Lexy.

      She smiled for the first time since that line had rung. “Mr. Kimball, Ian is much more than okay. He just saved your life.”

      Lexy stayed on the line until Drew slurred that the paramedics were tromping up the path toward them, then wished him luck and hit the F8 key to disconnect.

      “Holy—” She eased out a long breath and pushed her fingers into her hair, yearning for some kind of an adrenaline dump. “Great job finding that trailhead so fast, Dane.”

      “Thanks. You, too, boss,” he said, admiration threaded through his tone. He wiped perspiration from his temples with the backs of his wrists. “Great job with everything. I heard his wail through your headset when you picked up.”

      “He was pretty panicked.”

      “Well, it was one amazing save.”

      “I’ll say” came an unexpected voice from the back of the room.

      Lexy swiveled around to find three uniformed men standing at the divider wall, observing the action. Chief Ken Hayward from TG Paramedics had spoken the words. Police Chief Bill Bishop and Fire Chief John Dresden flanked him. All members of the interdepartmental brass had offices one floor above the dispatch center in the main emergency services building, and all of them had radio scanners on their desks. “Chiefs, wow. Sorry, I didn’t even hear you guys come in,” Lexy said, raising her eyebrows quizzically at Dane.

      “Nope, me, neither.”

      “No worries. We didn’t intend to interrupt. Just watching the magic happen,” Chief Dresden said. “We headed down as soon as we heard the call go out. You both handled that amazingly well.”

      “Thank you,” Lexy and Dane said together.

      Police Chief Bishop stepped forward, gesturing toward the console. “Lexy, how old was that caller?”

      “I’m not sure. He was so freaked out, it was hard to get a bead.Young, though. Definitely well under ten. Maybe … five or six? Seven at the most.”

      “You did a helluva job with him,” Chief Bishop said.

      Unreal. A compliment like that was huge coming from Chief Bishop, also known to Lexy as her friend Cagney’s taskmaster father. But she knew from Cagney that he’d been actively working on changing his ways since his wife left him. Lexy gave him credit for that. She bestowed a genuine smile on him. “Thanks, Chief. Actually, though, the boy’s the one who deserves kudos for the save. He did everything I asked of him and more. And get this.” She paused. They all waited. “Apparently today is


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