My Foolish Heart Read Online Free Page A

Pull me out!”
    He forced her body through the window even as she screamed.
    Then water. He heard it more than felt it, the rush killing the fire, spitting into the Caravan, drenching him as he slipped, hit the ground.
    He nearly cried out as his knee twisted. He struggled to push the woman away, wrenching his leg even more out of whack.
    â€œWe have survivors over here!”
    He pushed up, lifting himself onto his good knee. Turned to the woman.
    An EMT knelt beside her, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. “We need a stretcher over here!” She glanced at Caleb, at the way he held himself, probably at the angry rumpled skin up his rib cage, his arm and shoulder. “Where are you injured, sir?”
    He didn’t even know where to begin to answer, but that wasn’t really her question. “I wasn’t in the accident. I’m fine.”
    Confusion swept across her face; then she turned away, gesturing at two firemen who appeared with a litter to carry the woman to the curb.
    Caleb made it to his feet and followed them, limping.
    The EMT gave him another stray glance. “You sure you’re okay, sir?”
    â€œWhat took you guys so long?” Behind him, water had killed the fire, the generator for the Jaws of Life growling into the night as it gnawed open the door of the dead driver.
    She frowned at him. “We’re volunteers. Seven minutes isn’t a terrible response time, considering that most of us were in our pajamas. You got a complaint, talk to the chief.”
    She gestured to a firefighter, the one with the white hat, and Caleb took a breath, hobbled over to the man. One look told him that volunteer was the operative word. Paunchy, with a day’s beard growth and tired eyes, the man looked like someone had dragged him out of his feather bed, where he’d been hibernating.
    He glanced at Caleb. “You okay, sir?”
    â€œNo, I’m not—I want to know why it took you guys seven minutes to get here.”
    The man pursed his lips and turned away to supervise the removal of the other victim. “Joe, what do you see?”
    The firefighter turned, appearing undone by the accident. “It’s Zach Miller.” He shook his head.
    What looked like real pain flashed across the chief’s face. He faced Caleb again. “Are you new in town?”
    His question swiped the anger from Caleb. “Uh . . . yeah. I’m the new football coach. Just got here tonight.”
    The chief stared at him, his eyes narrowing for a second. “Then you should probably know that kid in the car was one of the best defensive tackles in the state a couple years back. And now all his parents and the town are going to remember about him is that he died nearly killing three people.”
    Caleb had no words for that.
    An officer wearing a rain slicker sidled up to them. “Pastor, you want me to talk to the parents?”
    The chief shook his head. “I know Marci and Greg. I’ll tell them.”
    Pastor? Caleb gave the man a long look. He could appreciate a preacher who ministered with action as well as words.
    Caleb turned, watching the EMTs trundle the woman, now sedated, into the ambulance, the lights splashing red and yellow across the nightmare. “I’m sorry about the kid.” He didn’t look at the pastor.
    â€œI hate this intersection. In the winter, or whenever it rains, that hill is like a sheet of ice. It’s killed more people than I want to think about.” The chief blew out a breath. “Listen—you probably saved that whole family tonight. But if you have a complaint, feel free to get involved. Come down to the station, join the crew.” He took off a glove and held out his hand. “Dan Matthews.”
    Caleb met his grip, nonplussed by the chief’s offer. Maybe the darkness hid him more than he suspected. “Caleb Knight.”
    â€œNice to meet you, Coach.”
    Coach. Yes, that