Page 24 of Canyon of Deceit

TWENTY-THREE

Those who affect us emotionally are always the ones we long to protect from suffering.

Blane experienced a horrendous fall. My fault.

I’d recruited him. I’d put aside my opposition to his lack of faith and coaxed him to join me.

I’d done my best to give him solid safety instructions.

Had I used his attraction to benefit my agenda?

“I’d give anything to be in your place,” I said.

“No, you don’t want any part of it. I’m miserable. Hurting. Mean. Cursing. And... a little late to use our code word for danger.”

“Oh, yeah, scree. You are one strong man, and my hero.”

He huffed. “The altitude has made you delirious.”

“Blane, we will get through this.” I visually explored around us.

The wind blew like a vicious attack, and the narrow trail offered no shelter.

I placed his hand in mine. “This cold makes it hard to breathe. First order of business—and I will do all I can to make it less painful—I’m going to put my blanket under your head, and I need you to hold it in place with your right hand.

This will reduce the pressure on your head.

Then I’ll drag you down the trail by your feet to a rock cropping that offers protection from the weather.

Once there, I’ll tend to your head and set your arm. What do you say?”

He closed his eyes. “You’re the expert.”

“None of this has easy tagged on it.”

“I might cuss a streak.”

“I’ve heard them before.” I kissed his forehead. Not sure why. Except he battled with a lot of pain. Who was I fooling? I cared about Blane far more than I should.

I carefully removed my backpack and carried it to the rock cropping that would serve as my ER room, a good fifty feet from where Blane lay.

Once back at his side, I positioned the blanket under his head, placed my hands under his feet, and slowly maneuvered his body down the incline.

Unfortunately, his left side with the twisted arm took the brunt of the move.

He closed his eyes.

“Stay with me. Please.”

He clenched his jaw. “Hurry.”

I told myself the slow descent had to be less strenuous on both of us than the hoist up the cliff. A hawk soared above in an incredibly blue sky. “You’re missing a cloudless sky that would make a beautiful painting.”

He whispered something unintelligible through tightly closed eyes, and I responded as though I understood. “Yes, you can take me to dinner when we’re back in Houston. But I’m buying. Open your eyes so I can see you.”

He obliged. “How much farther?”

“We’re under overhanging rock where I’ll make camp.”

I positioned him under the rock cropping away from the wind, heat of day, and cold of night. I lifted my blanket from beneath his head and covered him. I shrugged off my jacket and used it as his pillow. I’d give him first aid, then build a fire. God understood my doubts, and He’d help me.

The flesh beneath his ripped and bloody clothes held my attention. The question of internal injuries bothered me—only a doctor could handle bleeding or damaged organs. I offered him a sip of water, and he thanked me.

Easing onto his back, he licked his bleeding lip. “If I need stitches... do it after... my arm’s set.”

“Okay. I’m sure every bit of your body hurts, but what I’m about to do will be worse.”

He inhaled and stifled a groan. “I’ll pacify myself that a beautiful woman is taking... care of me.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence.”

A faint smile formed on his lips. “I will make it down these mountains, right beside you and Alina.”

“We will.” Turning to his arm and its awkward angle, I braved forward. “You told me you didn’t have any health issues, was that the truth?”

“Yes. Please, get this done. At this moment, patience is not my virtue.”

“I understand.”

“Steak. I want a steak dinner.”

I brushed my hand across his forehead and kissed it, dirt and all. His eyes were dilated. “Hush. You need your strength. Two steaks.”

I used my pocketknife to cut away the jacket sleeve. Lots of blue and purple bruising. I breathed relief the bone didn’t stick out through the skin. A three-inch gash above his elbow required stitches. Blane didn’t need infection setting in and all those complications.

While I cleaned his arm and head with antiseptic pads, I shared about his injuries and what I planned to do. “Are you numb below or above your break?”

“I wish,” he said through a pain-laden grimace.

I cautiously touched below and above the broken bone. He uttered a string of curses, then apologized. “You’re doing what’s best, but it hurts like—”

“It will be over soon. Please take another sip of water. Just a sip.”

He lifted his head from the blanket pillow for the water bottle, but the lines etching into his features told me he was having a rough time. “Have you called Sergio?”

I wish. “We don’t have a phone.”

His gaze met mine. “It’s not in your backpack?”

“My phone went over the edge during a skirmish with a rattler.”

“You’re not bitten?”

“No. I’m fine. I’ll explain later. First, your arm needs realignment. This isn’t setting the bone but to improve the circulation. I’m going to pull on it below the fracture. I’ve been trained in this and have set bones for others.” He nodded his understanding, and I continued. “This. Will. Hurt.”

“Figured it can’t be much worse. My vote is to pass out.”

“Might be easier if you did, except I need you awake with your head injury.”

“Beats turning into the Hulk.” He attempted a smile. “A kiss on my lips would make me feel better. Not my forehead.”

I gave him a quick warning while I eyed the best way to straighten his arm. “I’ve seen the Hulk plenty of times, and kissing wasn’t part of the script.” I moved my hands down below the broken bone and examined the area. “One, two, three.”

I pulled.

Blane shouted.

I tuned out his agony and finished aligning the bone. Resting back on my haunches, I studied him. Huge drops of sweat beaded the sides of his face.

“It’s in place, Blane.” I brushed a light kiss on his lips.

“That was better than a sucker and a balloon.”

I sensed myself blushing like a schoolgirl. Yep, I definitely had the attraction thing going. I hid my realization and pulled out flexible aluminum splints and tape from my backpack. I grabbed my extra shirt.

“You have everything in there to bind it?” he said.

“This shirt will help pad the splints.”

“Forget the padding. You’ll need the shirt. Alina might need it on a cold night.”

“Dirty and stinking might chase away Alina’s kidnappers.” I ignored him and tore my shirt into padding around his arm. I finished the splinting, not too tight to allow for swelling, all the while thanking God that Blane wasn’t dead at the bottom of a canyon.

“How much daylight is left?” he said.

“Maybe thirty minutes.”

“First thing in the morning, you’ve got to meet up with the team and find Alina. I’ll be fine.”

“Another topic to discuss later.” I sterilized a needle and threaded it. “Keep talking to me while I sew you up. I need to place a few stitches in your head. Nasty concussion you have there. Do you feel nauseous?”

“No. Vision’s blurred.”

“To be expected.” I ensured each stitch was precise with swift but careful movements. “What’s your favorite boyhood memory?”

“Tenth birthday. My dad got me a horse.”

“Aw. What a great gift. You rode as a boy?” I kept my eyes fixed on closing the nasty cut. Please, no infection.

“Yep. Competed in high school rodeo events.”

“You were a real cowboy. That wasn’t on your Ranger application. Did you collect all the trophies?”

“I did all right.”

“Your humility tells me you were good. I bet the girls were all over you.” I stitched up the open gashes, then applied an antibiotic gel and bandages. “Do your best to keep this clean. So a horse for your birthday. What’s the date?”

“In two days.”

I inhaled sharply. “I’m so sorry. This will go down in history as your worst birthday ever.”

He closed his eyes. “Maybe my best. You kissed me.” He slurred. “Back to my original statement before you distracted... me.” He paused, and again the concussion symptoms showed through his speech. “Leave at first light. Find the team and bring Alina back.”

I hated abandoning him or Alina. Choosing between two wrongs meant facing the consequences.

The whirling sound of a helicopter grasped my attention.

I rushed to my feet and stared up at the steadily darkening sky in the direction of the aircraft.

Waving my hands wildly, I attempted to get its attention.

“Here! We’re here.” I repeated like a crazy woman. Those inside the aircraft didn’t hear me, but I wanted to believe they knew exactly where we were. The pilot flew on to where the meetup was to take place—hours from where Blane and I camped. I returned to Blane and slumped beside him.

“Therese, I’m a big boy. You have a huge responsibility, and it’s not about me.

Alina deserves a chance at life. She’s frightened and in danger.

” He struggled for breath. I touched his lips, but he shook his head.

“She needs you and the team to yank her out of Chandler’s clutches.

And we have no idea about the kidnappers’ ultimate plan.

Do whatever it takes to get her back to Rurik.

I’m glad it’s my backpack at the bottom of a canyon. Yours has part of the ransom money.”

He made sense. What else could I do? “What if Chandler shows up while I’m gone?”

“I’ll tell him where he can put his feather.”