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Elly reappears with a large armful of blankets from the hall closet. She works on spreading them out over Sam while I start peeling back the towels and duct tape from his leg.
Tears keep rolling down my cheeks, making me keep having to wipe my face on my sleeves until they’re soaked. I feel like I’m not moving fast enough. Every beat of his heart is pushing blood out of his wounds.
“Please hold on,” I murmur to him. After the fifth suture pack, I have finally finished the front of his leg.
“You’re doing a good job,” Elly says quietly. She’s kneeling next to me, helping me by handing me the various instruments when I ask. A few squares of gauze and some tape, and I’m ready to go to the next wound.
“I’m not fast enough!” Panic skirts the edges of my concentration, tugging to hasten my heartbeat and adding a tremble to my hands. Rolling back onto my heels, I take a steadying breath. I need to focus on what I’m doing. I can break down later.
“I need to roll him over. The injury on the back of his other leg should be next.” Fighting to keep the tremor down in my voice, I busy myself with arranging the blanket so we can get him onto it and provide a little cushion.
She moves his shoulders while I move his hips.
“One, two, three!” We heave his heavy limp body over, pushing a groan out of him with the movement.
Peeling back the blood soaked towel, I see he has a large chunk of flesh missing from the back of his thigh. A slow seep slowly fills the hollow with crimson. Throwing a few quick stitches around the jagged edges, I try to draw it together as best I can, then pack it with sterile gauze and cover it.
I bet he will always walk with a limp from that one. But, at least he will be alive, I hope.
Elly sits back against the couch, her face pale.
Moving down his leg to his calf, I can see this isn’t as bad, just a few long, but shallow cuts.
“Are you okay?” I ask her as I stitch, noticing from the corner of my eye her hand covering her mouth.
“This is just all so much. I thought it would be safer out here.” Her voice trails off, her eyes unfocus as she stares at the fire flickering in the wood stove.
I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now. Just losing her husband, and now seeing her brother like this. I’m a wreck seeing Sam like this, and he’s only my, well, we haven’t even said what we are.
What are we?
I don’t know. I just know it feels like my chest is being ripped out right now, like I’m bleeding out next to him. It’s only been a few days that I’ve been here, and already I feel like I don’t want to be away from him. That I can’t be.
That I would do anything right now to save him.
A fresh wash of tears runs down my face. My cheeks are raw from wiping them.
With his calf finished and bandaged, I move up to his shoulder. Fortunately, his coat is heavy enough that it helped to prevent most of the tearing damage he might have suffered.
“Can you tell me a funny story about when you and Sam were kids? Maybe that will help us both right now.” It looks like she’s shutting down. I don’t know how to deal with people. I’m so much better with wounded animals. At least their reactions to pain are predictable.
She takes a deep breath and gives me a grateful smile. Pulling her jacket off to reveal a dark blue sweatshirt, she sits up on the couch.
“Our parents are old movie nuts. So, when Sam was born, my mom insisted on naming him after her favorite movie star, Sam Elliot.”
That brings me a smile. Sam has a little of the swagger of his namesake. And I remember seeing some of his movies from when he was younger. That is definitely a charismatic man.
“What about your name?” I don’t look up from trying to piece together the tattered edges of his shoulder.
“Ah, my dad was infatuated, well, is still infatuated with Elizabeth Taylor.” She laughs softly. “He even tried to hang up a poster of her. My mom was so pissed.” With a sigh, she pulls her hat off, revealing short, messy, brown hair. “Do you want some tea or coffee? I feel like I should be doing something to help. Is there anything I can do?” She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
“There’s fresh coffee. I’d be fine with either. I think I still have half a cup on the table.” The morning seems like it happened years ago. All I know now is fear and pain.
Elly steps carefully past me and picks up my coffee cup from the table on the way to the kitchen.
“So, Sam told me you’re a doctor?” she says as she pulls a cup down for herself.
“DVM. I’m a veterinarian. I wish I was a people doctor right now.” Sam told her about me? I can’t stop myself from brushing a loose lock of his hair back from over his eye. He’s so pale. It makes my stomach ache seeing him this way.