I saw the deer bounding in front of my car almost two seconds too late, and I gasped as I slammed on the brakes and jerked on the wheel on instinct. The world flashed before my eyes as the car spun wildly before sliding with a harsh thud into the snow filled ditch on the side of the road.
"Shit," I said as I lifted my hand to my forehead and came away with blood on my fingers. I didn't remember hitting my head on anything, but my guess would be the steering wheel. "Okay Cass don't panic."
That's what Dad always said, if you get in an accident don't panic. Of course, Dad also said not to jerk the wheel when you hit the brakes, especially in winter.
"Okay just walk yourself through it. You phoned Dad when you left work which was," I paused to check the time on the radio. "Twelve minutes ago. That means that Dad is going to start to get nervous in eighteen minutes, and call Dad in forty-eight minutes and he'll come look for you. That means you just need to sit tight and stay warm for about an hour."
It was an arrangement that we'd come up with when I had first gotten my job at the café; I phoned home when I left work to make the twenty five minute drive out of town and if I wasn't home in an hour Dad would come look for me, either from the house or from the detachment in town depending if he was working.
"Dad is working tonight so he'll be here in an hour." My head was starting to hurt, and my eyes were starting to sting with tears, so I busied myself with twisting around and grabbing my emergency blanket from the backseat. After a few moments of hesitation, since I couldn't remember if Dad had ever said what to do one way of another and decided if I got too cold I could turn it back on, I turned the car off. "Just don't freeze and don't fall asleep."
I was pretty sure that I hadn't fallen asleep, but I must have drifted slightly because it didn't seem like an hour before I heard a vehicle roll up. I wriggled out of the blanket and checked the time, only thirty minutes since I'd left work, but maybe someone else had come down the highway and stopped to help.
"Cass!" Dad shouted with worry in his voice over the thundering of his footsteps. I fumbled for the car door just as Dad yanked it open so hard the hinges groaned in protest. Dad lifted me bodily out of the car and held me to him so tightly that I was sure I would have imprints of his jacket stitches on my cheek. "Cass oh Cass thank God."
"Hey Dad. I had a bit of an accident," I said sheepishly, and Dad released me to cup my face in his hands, making me realize that he was shaking slightly.
"Oh, Cass thank God. Are you alright?" His fingers drifted up to my forehead and I winced against the pain even as I nodded.
"Sorry. I might have wrecked the car," I said. Dad pressed a lingering kiss to my cheek and lead me over to the truck, throwing the door open and reaching for the radio.
"Cass I don't care about the car. I care about you," Dad said firmly before he pressed the button on the radio. "Ray, I've got her she's alright."
"She's alright! Put her on!" Dad's voice crackled out of the radio and Dad handed it to me, pressing his lips to the side of my head as I pushed the button down.
"Hey Dad," I said.
"Jesus Christ Cass you scared the hell out of me," Dad said, and I laughed wetly.
"I knew Dad would come get me," I said as I looked up at him and I realized that he hadn't let go of me yet. I held the radio out to him which he took.
"Ray I'm going to drive Cass into the clinic before I drive her home, she hit her head," Dad said in that way he had when he was in full RCMP officer mode. I leaned into him.
"I thought you said she was alright?" Dad said. Dad frowned.
"Well she is, barring what I'm sure is a very minor injury." Dad frowned harder, like he was going to make sure my head injury was nothing by force of will.
"Okay. Be safe," Dad said and the soft smile that Dad always made when Dad said that melted the frown off his face.
"Always Ray." Then Dad put the radio back on its hook and lifted me up into the truck.
"Dad I'm capable of walking around to the passenger side," I said as I slid across the seat. Dad blasted the heat and gave me a sheepish smile before jogging back to my car and closing and locking the door. He climbed up and dropped my keys into the cup holder before resting his forehead against the steering wheel. "Dad?"
"Forgive me Cass I just need a moment."
"You got here way sooner than I was expecting you to," I said conversationally, and Dad let out a rough laugh.
"I was at work when we got a call that someone had reportedly seen someone slide off the road on Highway 42 at the turn." I winced at his words. The turn was infamous for car accidents from unsuspecting people who took it too fast and from suspecting people who hit a patch of ice. It was also on the way home and I was so paranoid about it I usually took the corner at about 15 kilometers an hour. "Shelley went to check it out and I phoned your father to double check that you were home. Imagine my horror when I heard you weren't."
"Shit Dad I'm sorry." There wasn't really much point in saying I hadn't wanted him to worry because I knew that he was going to the instant Dad had phoned.
"I fear I sent your Dad into a panic. Not that I wasn't panicking myself of course," Dad said.
"I jerked the wheel," I blurted out and Dad lifted his head off the wheel to look at me with a raised eyebrow.
"I beg your pardon?"
"A deer jumped in front of the car, I hit the brakes and jerked the wheel." Dad stared at me blankly for a few moments. "You always said not to jerk the wheel if you hit the brakes. Especially in winter."
"Cass-"
"And if it makes you feel better, I'm super paranoid about the turn so I usually take it at like 15 K," I said, and Dad's laugh filled the truck.
"That does make me feel better," Dad said as he leaned across the seat to press another lingering kiss to my forehead. "You will never know how happy I am that you're okay."
"Hey, you never know I could end up with brain damage," I said as Dad put the truck in gear. "Or whiplash."
"Goodness must you be so much like your Dad?"