Megan's Hero (The Callahans of Texas Book #3): A Novel Read Online Free

have it.”
    He motioned toward the glove box and nodded for his guest to help herself. To his relief, she wasn’t shy about following his suggestion. “I don’t have any juice, but I’ve got some bottles of water.” He spotted the truck in the pasture beside the road, the path of the tornado extending for at least a mile beyond it. “We’re at the semi, Lisa.”
    “Call Johnny and give him an update on the driver. Dalton and the fire truck are on their way too.”
    “You’ll need a big tow truck.” He scanned the scene as he pulled off the highway again. “And another truck to haul lumber. It’s a mess out here. I’ll let Dad know what’s going on. They can be here directly to help.”
    Will parked off the road but away from the wreckage. He left the engine idling and cranked up the heater fan. His guest was resting her head against the back of the seat and devouring a chocolate-covered power bar. “Are you okay?”
    “Getting better.” She glanced at the truck, her forehead wrinkled in worry. “Wave if you need any help.”
    He nodded and opened the door. “You rest and eat. Have as many of those as you want.” He noticed she’d set a half-full sports bottle in the holder in the console. “There’s more water in a box on the floor behind your seat. Do you want a bottle?”
    “No, thanks. I have another one in my purse. I’m good for now.”
    Will paused a few seconds and studied her as she folded up the power bar wrapper and tucked it in the small plastic garbage bag hanging from the heater knob. As his grandpa used to say, she had gumption. Grandpa had admired that in a woman.
    So did he.

3
     
    After grabbing a pair of leather gloves from a pouch in the door, Will stepped down to the ground and stuffed them in his back pocket. The sun had come out, raising the temperature and melting the hail faster.
    He had worked several accidents, though he’d been first on the scene only once. Standing by the pickup, he surveyed the area. No downed power lines. Truck engine off. He sniffed the air—no fuel leaks. They were well off the road, so there was no danger from passing cars and plenty of room for the emergency vehicles when they arrived. No obstacles hanging in the mesquite trees or on the truck that could fall on them.
    He removed a first aid kit from behind the backseat and paused long enough to pull on a pair of nonlatex gloves. He called the ranch as he picked his way through the rubble of broken lumber, tangled fencing, mesquite limbs, and debris that came from somewhere else, including a badly dented aluminum water trough. Will quickly explained the situation to his brother, Chance, and ended the call as he walked around the cab of the truck.
    The big rig lay on the left side, with the driver lying against the cab door. The cracked windshield had popped out and was about twenty yards away in the pasture. He checked for oil or other fluid leaks. Nothing to cause a problem.
    Will recognized the injured man. Ted made regular hauls from San Angelo to Callahan Crossing, delivering lumber for the houses Chance built.
    “Cavalry’s arrived,” the driver mumbled.
    “Just the scout. But the cavalry is on the way.” Will knelt beside the opening where the windshield used to be and set the first aid kit on the ground beside him. He didn’t think he’d need any of the bandages in the kit, but it paid to keep it handy.
    The truck had landed hard, breaking off the rearview mirror and crumpling the left fender and bumper. The side of the cab lay on the ground at a slight angle. “How ya doin’?”
    “Leg’s busted. Ribs hurt. Whoppin’ headache.”
    “It’s no wonder, considering the size of that goose egg on your head.” His shirt and the door panel between the window and armrest were soaked with blood. “I’m going to open your shirt and see if you’re bleeding anywhere.”
    He quickly but gently unsnapped the front of the western shirt and checked for injuries. “I don’t see any big