Beth Cornelison - Protecting Her Royal Baby

He jumped aside but not fast enough. The sedan clipped his hip as he launched himself toward the ditch. He landed with a tooth-jarring thump. Rolled. Pain streaked from his shoulder down his arm.

He twisted to watch the Honda rocket past, grumbling an invective under his breath.

Still traveling at a high speed, the car overcorrected from the swerve to miss him and fishtailed. In seconds, the driver had lost control. The sedan careened off the road at high speed, flipped and rolled into the ditch.

Horror punched him in the gut. Scrambling to his feet, Hunter ran down the road to the inverted car and crouched at the broken driver’s window. “Hey, are you okay?”

A pained and panicked cry came from inside.

Unable to see the front seat even from a squat, he got on his stomach and peered inside. The sight that greeted him backed his breath into his throat.

The woman lay crumpled on the roof of the sedan, which was now below her. Her forehead was bleeding. Her face was wrenched in a mask of agony. And she clutched her...rounded belly.

Hunter’s anxiety ratcheted up a notch. She was pregnant. And judging from the pool of bloody fluid under her hips, her water had broken in the crash.

Another wail of pain from her confirmed it. She was in labor.

“Damn,” he muttered as a chill slid through him, despite the warm autumn sun. “Ma’am, are you hurt anywhere other than your head?” He reached in far enough to put the car in Park and turn off the engine.

She turned wild blue eyes toward him. Frightened eyes. “Don’t hurt me!”

He raised his palms. “I won’t. Calm down.”

“Please! Don’t hurt me. I’m not—” She stopped with a gasp and a moan, holding her stomach.

Hurt her? What the—

“I’m not going to hurt you, ma’am. Why would you think—”

“My baby!” she gasped between shallow pants. “It’s coming!”

“Yeah. I see that.” He jerked at the Velcro strap that held his cell phone strapped to an armband while he jogged, and dialed 911. “I’m calling an ambulance now. Try to slow your breathing. You’re hyperventilating.”

Another frightened groan answered him, and she cast a nervous glance around her. “Where am I? What happened?”

Hunter arched an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”

Her brow puckered, and her eyes reflected anxiety, confusion. “Something’s wrong. I can’t...”

He frowned. How hard had she hit her head? Was she a meth user? Mentally unstable? He studied her face, but her smooth, unblemished skin and her white teeth didn’t show any telltale signs of drug use. She was, in fact, strikingly beautiful, with a youthful oval face, thick golden-blond hair, clear blue eyes and lush red lips.

“Try to calm down. Take slow, deep breaths. No one is trying to hurt you.” When the emergency operator came on the line, Hunter quickly gave the man the bullet points of the situation. Location. One-car accident. Woman in labor. Bleeding forehead. Possible delusions.

When he’d been assured an ambulance and police were on the way, Hunter switched the call to speaker setting and put his phone on the ground by the car, leaving the line connected as instructed.

“Ma’am, I’m going to try to open the door so I can help you.” Crawling onto his knees, he pulled at the crushed door. Though it gave a little, the bent frame was jammed. Hunter rose to his feet for better leverage and tried again. The shoulder he’d landed on when he dived into the ditch throbbed, and he paused long enough to roll his arms and loosen the muscles.

“Ow!” The fear behind the woman’s cry spurred him to act faster, put everything behind getting the door open.

“Hang on, ma’am. I’m coming.” Propping a foot against the dented frame, Hunter pulled on the door with all his strength. Sweat streamed down his already damp back and brow, but with a creak of straining metal, the door finally gave way. Getting on his belly again, Hunter crawled inside the flipped car and sidled up to the injured woman. “Okay, ma’am. Help is on the way, and I’m going to do what I can until they get here.”

Instead of the relief or gratitude he expected, the woman’s expression reflected terror as he drew closer. “No! Don’t hurt me!”

That again? Hunter huffed. She was the one who’d almost killed him with her erratic driving! He took a deep breath and touched her arm lightly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help.”

“But someone was... I think, someone was coming after me. I feel... I can’t remember...” She seemed so distraught that Hunter paused.

“Who’s coming after you? Why were you in such a hurry?” An abusive husband maybe?

She swallowed hard, and her brow furrowed. “I...I don’t know.” She tipped her head and gave him a funny look. “Wh-who are you?”

“My name’s Hunter. I saw you crash, and I’m here to help you. Do you remember anything about the accident or why you were driving so fast?”

“I...” She closed her eyes, wincing, then gave him a frightened look. “I had a contraction...and then I was upside down, and my water had broken and...you looked in the window...and—” She cried out in pain, drawing her shoulders in and cradling her belly again.

Hunter took her hand in his and patted her wrist. “You’re okay. Take a deep breath and blow it out through your mouth.”

He racked his brain for what he could remember about childbirth from when his nieces had been born. Darby Kent, the mother of one of his nieces, had been one of his closest friends since college, and he’d stood by her through her pregnancy, practicing breathing techniques with her and coaching her on the way to the hospital for her delivery. Though the specifics of the labor breathing weren’t coming back to him at the moment, he knew hyperventilating was not good. Which was what the woman was currently doing.

“Hey, look at me.” He moved a hand to her cheek and angled her face toward him. Her wide, fearful eyes latched on to his. Their piercing blue hue and vulnerability socked Hunter in the solar plexus, grabbed him and held on tight. “I’m not going to leave you. We’re going to get you through this. I know you’re scared, but you need to calm down. Take slower, deeper breaths or you’re going to pass out.”

She closed her eyes once, then refocused on him. Some of the panic in her gaze eased, and she slowed her breathing. She inhaled deeply, if shakily, and blew it out with a whimper.

“That’s my girl.” He gave her a warm smile and squeezed her fingers. “Now...what’s your name?”

She stared at him blankly for a moment, then frowned. “I...don’t know.”

Hunter drew his eyebrows together, an uneasy stir in his gut. “You don’t know your name?”

She blinked, clearly confused, and panic edged back into her eyes. “I don’t know! How could I not know?”

He shifted his gaze to the gash on her forehead. “That cut on your temple says you hit your head in the crash. Do you remember anything about who you are or where you live? Are you married?”

The pregnancy suggested she might have a husband somewhere who’d be worried about her, but her left hand had no rings. Although...his sister-in-law had stopped wearing her wedding ring during her last pregnancy because her hands had swelled.

Tears filled her eyes, and a visible tremor shook her. “No. It’s all a blank. I just...have this feeling...something bad happened. That someone wants to hurt me...”

He dabbed at the bleeding gash, where a goose egg was now swelling, with the hem of his shirt. “Okay, memory loss happens sometimes after you hit your head. Clearly that’s what’s happened, so...let’s see what clues we have in the car. Do you have a purse? A wallet with your driver’s license?”