Lucy and The Lieutenant

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She didn’t answer and he glanced toward her and saw her gaze was downcast. She was thinking, remembering. Lost in some secret world of her own for a moment. She looked beautiful and just a little sad.

“No,” she said finally. “It was because of my mom.”

Brant could vaguely recall Katie Monero. She’d spoken with an Irish brogue and had taught dance lessons at the studio above the bakery in town. She’d married an Irish/Italian rancher who’d had no idea about cattle and horses, and who had died when Lucy was an adolescent. The crash that had taken her mother’s life a few years later was a tragic accident. Katie had lost control of her car while a seventeen-year-old Lucy had dozed beside her. Katie had been flung from the car and Lucy had survived with barely a scratch.

“Because of the accident? It wasn’t your fault, though.”

“No,” she said and sighed. “But my mom was alive for over ten minutes before the paramedics arrived. I didn’t know what to do. I went numb. If I had put pressure on the main wound she might have had a chance. But I didn’t know...and I vowed I’d never be in that position again. So I decided to go to medical school and become a doctor. I wanted to know that if I was ever in that position again that I would be able to do things differently.”