Page 56 of Single Mom’s Navy Seals (Claimed by the Alphas #2)

T he wind howled as snow flew against the windshield of my truck.

It had been a long day at the ski resort, and I was pissed I hadn’t gotten home before the storm hit.

As I was turning the bend, about two miles out from my cabin, my headlights caught something that didn’t really belong. A flash of red metal against white.

A car.

Crashed.

The front end of it was buried so deep in the snowbank that it looked like the mountain had started to eat it.

The lights were still on.

Was someone in there?

“Fuck,” I grumbled, throwing my truck in park.

My medical training kicked in before conscious thought could even interfere. Engine off. Emergency kit from the back. Move.

Now.

The driver's side door was crumpled like a tin can, and snow was caked up on the side of it. Quickly, I dusted off the snow from the window and looked in.

A woman.

Young.

Mid to late twenties.

Unconscious.

“Fuck!” I yelled out. I tried to jerk the car door. Stuck. Too much snow caked over it. Using my elbow, I slung as much of the snow off as I could. I couldn’t risk breaking the glass in her face.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

I ran back to my truck bed, grabbing a crowbar from the toolbox. I jumped over the bed’s side and down to the icy road below, sliding, but not caring. There was no way of knowing how long she’d been trapped inside or how cold she was.

I chipped at the snow with my crowbar until I got to the door latch, freeing as much of the door cracks as possible.

I gripped it and tugged, managing to wrench it open with a screech of the protesting metal.

Inside, she was slumped over the steering wheel.

My God, was she young. Auburn hair spilled across her face.

Her forehead was slightly bloodied from the impact.

"Ma'am?" I reached in, checking for a pulse at her throat. Steady but weak. Her skin was cold. Too cold. "Can you hear me?"

No response. Her lips had a bluish tint that made my chest tighten. Hypothermia. In the early stages, but it would worsen rapidly in this weather. I had to move quickly.

I ran my hands along her neck, checking for injuries. No obvious trauma other than the head injury.

The crash hadn't been that severe. She probably just hit her head on the steering wheel, but the cold was doing its own damage now.

"I've got you," I whispered, more to myself than her. It was an old habit from combat training—talking to unconscious patients like they could hear every word, just in case they could. Sometimes they could.

I was careful removing her from the vehicle, which was pretty easy considering she was pretty small. I slipped one arm under her knees, the other behind her back, and lifted her from the SUV, pulling her out. Her head rested gently against my shoulder, and something twisted in my gut.

I carried her to my truck, settled her squarely in the passenger seat, and cranked the heat to full blast. I reached into my med bag and pulled out a foil blanket.

“Come on,” I gasped, blowing heat into my chilled hands. “Let’s get you warm!”

The radio was going on and on with weather updates—roads closing, talking about the storm intensifying, whiteout conditions expected to last through the night into tomorrow, and the next day. Maybe longer.

No choice then. The hospital was forty minutes away on a good day, and tonight was sure as hell not a good day. The cabin was closer, and I had medical supplies there. More of them than in my pack. Basic, but enough to stabilize her until the storm passed.

Enough to help her if she had a concussion.

I rubbed the blanket quickly, trying to make as much heat as possible underneath to warm her. I wasn’t sure how long she’d been in that car before I got to her. Probably not long, considering I could still see her car. But long enough.

I couldn’t help but keep looking at her as I drove.

Where the hell was she headed?

By the looks of her, she didn’t look like anyone I knew from around here.

“Damn tourist…” I found myself muttering just under my breath.

I was already off-roading it to the cabin. It was just an eighth of a mile away. And I kept watching the rise and fall of her chest and snaking my fingers up now and then to feel her pulse, rubbing gently to create friction beneath the blanket.

Her breathing was shallow but regular. Color was slowly returning to her cheeks as the truck's heater worked overtime. The cabin’s lights appeared through the snow. Home.

“Levi! Rhys!” I yelled out of the door, already opening it before I even got the truck into park. And without missing a beat, Levi met me at the door. His eyebrows shot up when he watched me pull a woman out behind me, holding her firmly in my arms.

"What the hell?" Levi shot out, jogging out to meet me.

"Car accident," I said, pushing past him into the warmth. "She's hypothermic. Need to get her temperature up."

“Rhys, more wood on the fire!” Levi hollered behind him.

“Already got it!” Rhys called out, his voice faint, but it was heard all the way inside the living room.

I carried her in quickly, reveling in the heat of the cabin myself.

It was cold as shit outside.

I took her straight to the living room and laid her in front of the fire. "How bad?" Rhys asked, moving pillows and blankets to the floor.

"Could be worse. Could be better,” I said. "She was unconscious when I found her. Pulse is steady, no obvious injuries except that one on her head, but she's been out in the cold too long."

I laid her down on the floor, then went to work.

Checked vitals again. Removed her wet clothes—jeans soaked through, sweater damp with melted snow.

I tried to keep it clinical and professional, but I was still a man.

Still noticed the curve of her hip and the impractical lace bra and panties that definitely weren’t meant for warmth.

Focus, Jude.

I wrapped her in the blankets Rhys had gathered, then checked her pupils with a penlight. Responsive. Good sign. Her skin was warming up, color improving. No signs of frostbite.

“Ma’am!” I said loudly.

She nodded. “Where am I?”

“You’re safe,” I said.

"She gonna be okay?" Levi asked from the doorway.

"Should be.” I settled into the chair beside the bed, keeping watch. "Someone should stay with her tonight. Make sure she doesn't worsen.”

"I'll take first watch," Rhys said quietly.

I shook my head. "I found her. She's my responsibility."

The woman stirred again, a soft sound escaping her lips. Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open.

"Who do you think she is?" Levi wondered aloud.

"Doesn't matter," I said, though I was curious too. "She needed help. The rest is just details.”

“You find her purse?” Rhys asked.

I shook my head. “I didn’t look for it, but I’ll go back out on the four-wheeler in the morning and grab what things of hers I can. Her phone, her purse. Anything else she might have.”

But even as I said it, I found myself studying her face. Whatever had brought her up this mountain in a storm like this, it must have been important. Important enough to risk her life for.

I sighed and stood up.

The fire popped in the hearth. It was warm in here, and she was safe. At least for now.