She Loves You

Blake surprised himself by hoping he was going to be the father of the child. He was leading a miserable existence, traveling from town to town with no goal or purpose. Perhaps becoming a father would give him the kick in the ass he needed. A child should have a father to be proud of and he was determined to become exactly that.

Blake was on Interstate 90 not far from Billings when a chain reaction accident took place in front of him. He was barely able to slow his truck down enough to safely drive it off the highway and avoid being involved in the carnage.

Once his truck was safely parked off the side, Blake quickly rushed to see if he could help any injured motorists. The people in the first three cars he approached assured him that they were okay. The occupants of the fourth vehicle were not as fortunate. The front of the Ford Explorer was crushed in on the driver's side so he rushed around to the passenger side. He felt his heart skip when he saw the condition of the driver. He also noticed a young girl strapped into a car seat in the back. She appeared to be scared but showed no signs of injury.

"Hi, I'm Blake. I'm going to try to help your mom until the doctors get here," Blake spoke soothingly as he leaned over the passenger side of the car to feel for a carotid pulse on the woman driver. He found it, but it seemed quite faint. This concerned Blake. The woman was suffering a medical emergency. His eyes wandered over the inert form as he looked for any obvious life threatening injury.

That was when he detected a pool of blood on the driver's seat of the car. He checked closer and discovered blood running from her inside left thigh a few inches below her crotch. He had taken an emergency medical course in college. Blake thought back to what he had been told repeatedly. He had to always consider ABC, or airway, breathing and circulation. He could hear the woman's ragged breathing, so he determined her airway and breathing were not compromised.

He had been taught not to move a person involved in an accident for fear of exacerbating any spinal injuries, unless their current situation demanded action. Blake had no doubt the woman would soon die from loss of blood if he didn't act immediately. With that fear in his mind, he released her seat belt and gently pulled the woman from the car. As soon as he had her placed on the grassy berm, he pulled out his jackknife and sliced the woman's pant leg from her ankle to her hip.

The wound was obvious and it was bleeding profusely. Blake pulled his cotton shirt over his head, folded into a neat square and placed it directly over the wound. He then pulled his belt off with his free hand and wrapped it around the woman's leg, thus holding the makeshift bandage over the jagged cut. He was gratified to see the bleeding slow noticeably as he tightened the belt.

"What are you doing to my mother?" the little girl asked. She was still in her car seat.

"I'm helping her to get better," Blake responded gently. "Your mom's leg was cut and she was bleeding. I'm trying to stop it."

"Is she okay?" asked the child.

"Sweetheart, I'm doing everything I can to make sure she will be," Blake promised. "Can you sit quietly and wait for the doctor people to come? I think I hear them now."

Blake heard numerous sirens wailing as he knelt by the woman and maintained pressure on her wound. It seemed like it took forever before he was approached by emergency personnel.

"Sir, are you hurt? If not, tell me what you can about the extent of the injuries to this woman," a calm female voice spoke from directly behind him.

"I wasn't involved in the accident. This woman has lost a lot of blood from a deep cut to her thigh. I used my shirt and belt to try to lessen the flow. Her little girl seems to be okay. She's been talking to me right along."

"It looks like you've accomplished your goal," the paramedic observed as she nudged Blake aside and assumed care of the woman. Soon she was directing other rescue personnel to bring a backboard, bandages, oxygen and a gurney as she quickly and professionally assessed the unconscious woman's injuries

In a surprisingly short period of time, the patient was loaded on the gurney and carried to a waiting ambulance. As all of this was taking place, a second paramedic had given the small girl a quick assessment and determined she was unharmed.

"Sir, as you can see, we're swamped at the moment. We need to attend to other injuries. Could you stay with this child until we can sort everything out? We have more help on the way, but we're stretched pretty thin at the moment."

"Sure," Blake replied immediately, although he was surprised by the request. He understood the seriousness of the situation the paramedics and firemen were facing.

"What's your name, Sweetheart?" asked Blake as he lifted the girl from her car seat. "We have to wait for the firemen, police and medics to take care of the hurt people. Let's sit in my truck. I think I have some juice and cookies."

"I'm Brianna, and I'm almost four. I like cookies if they aren't peanut butter."

Blake gave the little girl several chocolate chip cookies and some juice as he waited for the turmoil on the highway to lessen. It took almost another hour before the last ambulance pulled out. Blake began to wonder if anyone was going to take Brianna off his hands.

Wreckers began clearing the roadside of crashed vehicles and Blake's parked truck was hindering their progress. Blake decided to use his phone to find the nearest hospital.

It seemed likely that Brianna's family would be in a total panic with her mom involved in a very serious accident and Brianna's whereabouts unknown. Blake decided to drive to the hospital. Hopefully, he would find her family.

Blake had replaced his shirt while Brianna was eating her cookies, but he still had blood-stained pants and more than a few flecks of blood on his arms and face. He was aware of several concerned looks when he walked into the hospital in search of the hospital waiting room.

As Blake carried the little girl into the waiting room, a woman in her fifties rushed toward them, crying "Brianna!". Blake had no trouble identifying the woman, since Brianna greeted her with a "Grandma" and held her little arms out to the woman.

"We were very worried about Brianna, but the paramedic who treated Lauren at the scene insisted that she was very safe and was certain you'd bring her in," the frenzied woman stated.

"She told us that your efforts at the scene probably saved Lauren's life," the woman continued. "I don't know how to thank you. Lauren should be out of surgery soon. I'm pleased she'll be able to see that Brianna is okay when she wakes up."

"I'm just glad I was able to help," Blake offered. "Your granddaughter is a delight. She had four cookies and some juice while we waited for the situation to be cleared up."

"Now that you're reunited with Brianna, I'll head out. I wish your daughter a full recovery. I'm sure she'll get the best care here."

"Please tell me your name and phone number," Brianna's grandmother asked, "I know Lauren's going to want to speak with you when she feels better. Do you live in the area?"

"I don't. I'm kind of drifting around the country, but getting back into Montana feels pretty good. I think I'll probably wind up living someplace nearby. I love the wide open spaces here.

"I still have some of my old business cards, so I'll give you one," Blake continued as he pulled out his wallet. "The address on the card isn't valid anymore, but the cell number and name still apply."

Blake was hungry and tired after the events of the day, so he decided to stop at a diner a short drive from the hospital. He had noticed it when he had driven into Larson, which appeared to be a rather typical medium sized western town. How could an eatery named "Mom's Place" be anything but good?

Blake had just placed his order when several firemen entered and took seats at a table not far from where he sat at the counter. Blake had been concentrating on his coffee and failed to notice that one of the "firemen" was the female paramedic who had taken over the care of Lauren.

"Guys, this is the man I was telling you about," she declared as she nodded in Blake's direction. "He probably saved the woman's life by applying a bandage and pressure to her severed artery.

"Sir, would you care to join us?" she asked Blake. "I heard you delivered that precious little girl back to her family, which made me look like a good judge of character. Let me buy your coffee."

Blake had experienced very little human interaction the previous few weeks. Since the group was composed of people about his age, he was delighted to accept the invitation. He left the stool and took the offered seat with the group.

Once Blake introduced himself, Sarah, the attractive female paramedic began questioning him.

"Have you had training in emergency medicine? Are you interested in the field? Do you live in the area?"

"Sarah, let the poor guy answer one question before you ask another one," a man Blake now knew as David advised. "You need to forgive her intense questioning, but she has the best of reasons. We've been married two years, but I still haven't been able to convince her to slow down when she's excited."

"I don't mind," Blake responded with a grin. "I did take a semester of emergency first aid when I attended Montana State. It was actually required for my forestry degree.

"To answer the other questions, I very much appreciated watching how professionally and competently all of you performed this afternoon. It was something to watch. Technically, I'm homeless at the moment, but I like what I see of the area so far, and that includes the residents."

"I'm not going to beat around the bush here," Sarah stated. "We're shorthanded here in Madison County. We need to enlist some competent people to join us. You're the type of person we're looking for. You're calm, rugged, educated, and hopefully, available. Would you be interested in becoming a firefighter-paramedic?"

"I never gave it any thought before this afternoon," Blake admitted. "Watching how you were able to help those injured people did pique my interest. Your job must give you tremendous satisfaction."

"Yeah, along with lost sleep and dangerous situations," David said. "You need to know that becoming a firefighter and/or a paramedic is not easy. You have to train physically and study like hell to make the grade."

"What will I need to do if I want to give it a try?" Blake asked as he considered the challenge the job would present."

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"Blake knows you're pregnant and isn't coming home?" Carla asked in disbelief. "I sure misjudged him. He said he wanted to be a father and have a family. Did he give you any reasons?"

"We don't speak to each other. He blocked my phone number the day he left," Angie explained. "His lawyer talks to my lawyer, who then informs me what Blake is thinking."

Angie had dreaded this conversation since she had discovered that she was pregnant. She refused to make Blake appear to be unreasonable with his request for a DNA test, but that opened a can of worms she had wished to avoid.

"Is Blake refusing to support his own child?" Sandra asked. "That surprises me a great deal. I always thought he was very responsible."

"After the baby's born, I'll have a DNA test done. Blake indicated he would be willing to support the baby if it is his," Angie reluctantly revealed.

"If it's his?" Sandra repeated loudly. "Who else does he think could be the father? You never... oh, Angie!"

Sandra Wilson brought her hand up to her mouth as she realized why a DNA test was requested.

"Sis, is there a chance that Blake isn't the father?" Carla asked gently. "Is that why he left?"

Angie began sobbing as she nodded her head.

"Let's pray that Blake is the father, but either way, we're going to love that baby and make sure it has all the care and attention it could ever need," Sandra declared as she hugged Angie tightly.

Five months later, Angie gave birth to a beautiful, healthy seven-pound baby girl who she named Charlotte, after her mother's mother. When the baby's DNA was compared to Blake's, it was determined he was not the father. Angie was devastated.

Reluctantly, she contacted Rick to inform him that he had fathered a child with her. He immediately denied the possibility and told her to never contact him again. Angie had to get her lawyer involved, but after five more months and a conclusive DNA test, Rick agreed to a one-time payout for the baby. He gladly signed away all parental rights and obligations.

Angie was determined to raise Charlotte to be a strong independent woman. Life as a single mother was more difficult than she had envisioned, but with the help of her sister and her parents, Angie was confident that Charlotte was going to do well.

Then, as Angie knew would happen, Charlotte began asking about her father and why she didn't have one. Angie never responded with a complete lie, but she did her best to change the subject. How do you explain to a four year old that her mother was impregnated by a man who cared nothing for his daughter, or her mother?

It all came to a head when Charlotte was seven. She was at her grandparents when Carla stopped by. She was in the living room talking with Stan and Sandra when the cable news channel Stan frequently watched ran a story that stunned them all.

The announcer set the scene. It was at a state park in Montana and the incident involved a visiting family from New Jersey. Their eight-year-old son slipped on some wet rocks and fell over the protective railing and into a ravine estimated to be over one hundred feet deep.

Once the child fell, several people began videoing the situation. A rather chubby park ranger rushed to the railing with a long coil of rope. He expertly tied one end of the rope to the hitch of a pickup truck parked nearby and lowered the other end over the side where the boy had fallen and was clinging to a rock outcropping some twenty feet below the top.

The ranger hesitated as he looked at the rope and then at the cliff it disappeared over. Grimly, he grabbed the rope and began backing toward the edge.

"You'd better let me take that rope," insisted a rugged man of about thirty as he appeared on the scene. He quickly wrapped a coil of rope around his hips and held it with his left hand while his right firmly grasped the rope up higher. Without another word to the obviously relieved ranger, he backed over the edge of the cliff and dropped out of sight.

Another tourist had been approaching from around a curve in the cliff and was in a perfect position to video the entire scene. A boy in a hooded sweatshirt was clinging to rocks that jutted out from the face of the cliff. It was apparent the boy was tiring and was having trouble maintaining his grip.

The man on the rope was descending off to the side of the boy by several feet. Once he was level with the boy's position, he began 'walking' toward him. The boy suddenly began shouting at the man to hurry, yelling that his hands were slipping. Just before the man on the rope reached the youth's location, the kid lost his grip and slid off the rock outcropping.

Carla and her mother gasped in unison. It appeared that the rescuer was just a few seconds too late. As the boy began slipping, the man on the rope appeared to launch himself sideways and somehow grabbed the hood of the boy's sweatshirt.

Carla was holding her breath as the man hung with one hand on the rope while holding the youth with the other. She watched as the rescuer very slowly raised the boy up to his chest. At that time, the frightened kid wrapped his arms around the man's neck and immediately molded to his chest. The man quickly grasped the rope with both hands.

Sandra, Stan and Carla all groaned in sympathy as the man began his difficult climb back up the cliff. Even from the distance the video was taken, it was apparent he was exerting a tremendous amount of effort as he slowly pulled himself and the boy upward.

Although it seemed like hours, it was actually less than two minutes before the man reached the edge of the cliff. Another man reached over and pulled the boy free of the man he had been literally clinging to for dear life. With the extra burden lifted from his shoulders, the rescuer was able to scramble over the edge and finally stand on solid ground.

The next part of the rescue was shown from a different camera which was obviously much closer. The person using their phone zoomed in on the brave man who had saved the boy.

"Jesus!" blurted Stan Wilson. "That's Blake!"

As Stan spoke, an attractive woman in her thirties rushed to Blake's side and hugged him tightly. At the same time a girl about Charlotte's age announced to the people gathered around watching, "That's my dad. He's a firefighter and the bravest, strongest man ever!"

Over the next half hour, the TV commentators discussed the rescue, the effort which it had required and the courage of the man on the rope. The video had quickly gone viral on the internet. It was played on all the major news outlets as well.

Blake, along with his wife and daughter, were interviewed by reporter who happened to be in the area filming a promotion for the station.

Angie came home from work to find her family, as well as a couple of her mother's friends, watching the broadcast with Blake being interviewed. She had watched the rescue video earlier in the day on her phone and had difficulty believing the entire situation.

During the interview, Blake stood tall with an impressively muscled arm around a very pretty woman with a lovely young girl standing in front of them. Blake proved to be a tough interview as he answered the reporter's questions with one or two words and a big smile. Angie well knew that smile of his. It was probably causing the women who were watching to go weak in the knees.

Angie was torn as she watched Blake handle the questions. He looked incredible, ripped like she had never seen him and happier than he had even been. The problem was he had his arm around another woman. He even had a beautiful daughter. She couldn't help but feel that it should have been her and Charlotte standing beside Blake. It drove home just how foolish she had been.

"Mom, did you see that man?" Charlotte asked to bring Angie out of her introspection. "I heard Grandpa say that he used to be your husband. He could have been my father!"

"Sweetheart, I've explained this to you before. He isn't your father. Your father lives far away and is too busy to ever visit. The man on TV is not your father, although I understand why you might wish that he was."

"I know he isn't really my father, but he was supposed to be. I was supposed to be his daughter," Charlotte insisted. "He's real strong and brave.

"His last name is Reynolds, the same as ours. He was married to you, so he should be my father. His new wife is pretty, but you're prettier, Mom. I wish you stayed married to him."

Carla, Sandra and Stan had listened to the exchange between mother and daughter in silence. They couldn't help but think that Charlotte had made a valid point.

After seeing Blake in the video, Charlotte made it a point of pestering her grandmother, Sandra, into searching the internet for more information on Blake Reynolds. Angie's mother had tried to distract her from her new obsession, but to no avail.

As most grandmothers do, she relented and shared any information she would find about Blake and his family with Charlotte, but only when Angie was not present. Angie had made it clear to both her mother and her daughter that she did not want to hear any new details about Blake.

Charlotte's persistence allowed her to learn that Blake was actually the young girl's stepfather. He had married Beverly Wingate three years prior and had adopted her daughter, Faith.