tiny frame. “I’m Gracie. Gracie Melissa Taylor.”
Molly said another prayer. The child was alert and knew who she was. The bad sign was the smell of gas seemed to be getting stronger. Was there a chance the car could explode? Molly needed to get them out. She couldn’t wait for the ambulance.
“Do you hurt anywhere?”
Gracie shook her head.
“I’m a nurse. I want to check you. Is that okay?”
The child nodded, and Molly climbed part way into the back seat. “I’m going to feel your head, your arms, your legs. I want you to tell me if anything hurts.”
The child stared, her eyes serious and intent. There was no facial blood so Molly started at the child’s crown. “Keep very still.”
Gracie whimpered but remained quiet.
Molly ran her fingers through the child’s hair. She dreaded coming in contact with any warm, sticky fluid. She was relieved when her fingers remained dry. “You’re being very good, Gracie.”
A curved pillow behind the child’s neck had probably protected her in the impact. Right now, it was perfect for what Molly needed.
“Can you stay very still?”
The child tipped her head.
“I’ll be right back.”
Molly ran to her car, and popped the trunk. She was glad she’d decided to buy the super-size first–aid kit. What else could she use? A couple of gray flannel car blankets—they would be useful. She tucked them under her arm along with a couple of beach towels.
As she grabbed the towels, she uncovered a telescoping window scraper. She didn’t know why, but she took that, too. Draping the blanket and towels over the Jaguar’s open door, Molly placed the first-aid kit on the ground. She shoved two rolls of tape into her pocket.
“I’m going to make you a special necklace, okay, Gracie?”
Molly wound tape around the small curved pillow, securing the ends under the child’s chin to form a cervical collar. Molly didn’t know if Gracie had a neck injury, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. She grinned at the child. “That’s a special necklace to remind you to stay still. Do you think you can remember to keep still?”
Gracie nodded.
“Good girl. I’m going to check your arms and legs. You tell me if it hurts.”
Molly ran her fingers down both arms at the same time, feeling for any abnormalities and searching for any cuts or any bleeding. The legs were next. The child didn’t even wince. Molly let out another sigh. No broken bones. No apparent injuries. Great.
“Now I’m going to tickle your tummy.” Molly placed her hand on the child’s abdomen and gently ran her fingers across it. It was soft and non-tender. Good. The child didn’t seem to have any abdominal injuries. With the damage done to the car, this was one lucky little girl.
She had to get her out of there. It would be safer to keep her supported in the car seat than risk moving her. “Gracie, I’m going to put you in my car, then I’m going to help your daddy.”
“I want my daddy!”
Molly’s hands shook as they scrambled for the clasp holding the car seat. Then the cold metal was in her hands. With a loud click, the belt snapped free. Her arms encircling the car seat, Molly backed her way out of the Jaguar.
“Daddy, Daddy.” Gracie’s plump arm reached out toward her father.
Molly kept her voice low and reassuring. “I’m going to get your daddy as soon as I put you in my car.”
By the time she’d settled Gracie in the back seat of her Elantra, her arms ached from the weight of seat and child. She swathed her with a fleece blanket, then gave her a bright smile. “You wait here while I get your daddy out of the car.”
“Get Daddy. I want my daddy.”
Molly rolled the back window down. “You call me if you need me. Gracie, what’s your ’daddy’s name?”
“Daddy.”
Molly chuckled. “Yes, but what do other people call your daddy?”
“Pearce. Pearce Taylor.” Gracie’s blue eyes were large and luminous and trusting. “Get Daddy, now.”
“I’m getting him.”
Molly ran back to the Jaguar. The man remained slumped over the steering wheel. It had only taken her a few minutes to assess and move the child, but had it been too many for him? Molly prayed he was still alive. She held her breath as she stretched out a hand to touch his neck.
He was warm. She checked for a pulse. Still there. Was it faster? She wasn’t sure. She squeezed his shoulder. “Mr. Taylor.” There was no response. Why was