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“What’s wrong?” she asked quickly.

Through clenched teeth, he ground out, “Think I dislocated my shoulder. When I grabbed for the bag, it threw me off balance and I came down funny.”

“What bag?”

“I grabbed Harness Guy’s pack on the way out the door. No idea what’s inside, but I figured there must be something useful in it.”

She felt his shoulder gingerly, but every time her fingers moved to a new spot Ian winced. It must be hurting him like hell for him to show her any glimpse of weakness. It definitely felt like stuff was not in the right place inside the joint.

“I don’t know how to put it back in the socket,” she said regretfully.

“I’ll talk you through it. It takes a fair bit of strength, and I’m going to swear like a motherfucker and maybe pass out. But you have to do it anyway.”

She listened closely as he explained the relatively simple procedure. It was all about getting his arm bones properly positioned and then shoving like hell. The idea of doing it grossed her out completely, though. There was a reason she wasn’t in the medical profession.

“Got all that?” he asked.

She nodded and gulped. If she could run around Khartoum with a gun and jump in front of violent religious police, she could do this. In theory.

He sat down and she knelt beside him. Laying her hands on his arm as he helped her position the limb and then braced himself, she muttered, “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“On the count of three. One--” She shoved. No sense making the guy wait till three, and frankly, she thought she might lose her nerve if she waited two more counts.

The joint popped audibly, and as advertised, Ian swore up a blue storm. Sweat erupted on his brow and his entire body trembled. Lord, the pain he must be in. “I’m so sorry!” she cried.

“No prob,” he gritted out. “Gimme a sec.”

Out of respect for his fight to control the pain, she turned away. In her experience, men didn’t like to look sissies in front of women. While he caught his breath, she occupied herself rummaging through the backpack he’d snagged.

A variety of tools, including a large pocketknife could come in handy. There was a plastic tarp, which would definitely be handy if they had to collect water for themselves out here. And speaking of which…she pulled out a canteen that sloshed heavily.Yes.

“I found some water, Ian. Drink.”

He took a long slug from the canteen and passed it back to her, saying, “Finish it.”

She did as he suggested. Survival 101: it was better to carry water inside your body than outside it.

The sun beat down on them mercilessly, and she was already starting to feel baked. She knew not to fight the heat mentally. There was nothing she could do about it, so she might as well just accept it and move on.

Ian climbed carefully to his feet. “Give me the pack.”

“I just put your shoulder back in joint. I don’t need the pack to pull it back out.”

“I’ve got two shoulders. I’ll sling it over the other one. I’m stronger than you, and me carrying the bag will equalize out our speed and stamina a bit.”

“God, I hate it when you’re right,” she muttered.

He laughed a little. “Sorry, babe. You’re in my world, now. This is what I do.”

“And you would be crazy for doing it.”

“One man’s crazy is another man’s idea of a good time,” he retorted.

“I gather then, that you’re going to be all right?”

“Right as rain. I’ve done a lot worse to myself than that and kept going.”