Page 26 of Wanted by the Alien Warden (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides #4)

26

TASHA

I stared, half confused and half in awe, at the confident, commanding male who’d taken over the scene just about as quickly as he’d come upon it. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have assumed he was a warden.

But I was pretty sure I’d just heard him refer to himself as Zohro. The last man from Tenn’s province I was meant to meet.

I was also pretty sure I’d heard him call himself a surgeon. Which seemed… Dubious. Unless he meant a veterinary surgeon to the animals on his farm.

But honestly? At this point?

I’d take whatever help that I could get. Even the delusional sort.

And seeing the way Zohro so easily took command of the chaos inside the saloon made me feel like maybe, just maybe, this might actually be OK.

“You,” Zohro said, pointing a knife directly at Rivven’s chest. “Get me a sewing kit.”

Rivven instantly turned and ran to the back of the saloon. He didn’t stop when he reached the bar. He simply leaped right over it.

“You,” Zohro said, this time using his dark pink tail to point at Dorn, since his knife was now busy slicing away Tenn’s shirt. “Get me clean towels and hot water.”

“What can I do?” Xennet asked.

“You…” Zohro squinted at him, then scowled. “You just stay out of the way. And you.”

I stiffened, realizing Zohro was addressing me.

“Tell me what happened.”

“We were outside,” I said, my voice cracking. “We took shelter from the storm inside an old shed. But the roof….”

“It fell?” Zohro finished impatiently when my words trailed off. I nodded mutely.

“You are uninjured?”

“Tenn, he… He pushed me out of the way.”

I wasn’t sure if Zohro caught that last bit. He was now muttering away to himself. “Dislocated shoulder. Broken collarbone.” But he didn’t seem to actually be paying much attention to those injuries right now. He’d dropped his knife, and both of his dark pink hands were now entirely devoted to holding my soaked shirt against Tenn’s torn neck. “Where the blazes is the sewing kit?”

“I’ve got it!” Rivven slid across the bar. His boots hit the floor hard when he landed. “I sterilized the needle.”

“Good,” Zohro said. “Get it threaded for me.”

I reached for the sewing kit, not wanting to waste any time in case Rivven couldn’t do it one-handed.

But he didn’t need any help. His tail proved nearly as dextrous as a second hand would be. He was able to hold the needle perfectly still between his right wrist and the tip of his tail, which meant his left hand was free to thread it.

By the time that was complete, Dorn was back with the water and towels.

“Mop up whatever blood you can,” Zohro instructed, “so I can see what the blazes I’m doing.”

Then, he pulled my shirt away.

I wanted to collapse when I saw how much blood came pouring out of Tenn. But Zohro had none of the same freezing fear that I did. Instantly, he was bent over Tenn’s neck, his arm moving in sharp, precise motions. Dorn and Rivven did as Zohro had commanded them, their towels soon soaked through with black.

So much black.

Please, please, please…

“Are you alright?”

I swallowed a yelp, then turned to find that Xennet was right beside me. He wasn’t as large as Dorn, but compared to a human, he absolutely towered. I tilted my face up to better meet his white gaze.

“Your face is paler than before,” he said. “We learned in the book that it might mean a human is sick.”

“Not sick,” I said hoarsely. “Scared.”

“Stitching’s done,” Zohro announced. “You two. Hold him here and here. I need to set the shoulder.”

I couldn’t see what was happening, but I heard the harsh pop of Tenn’s bone moving back into its socket.

Even the pain of that didn’t wake him.

And then, I worried I might be truly broken. I worried that this might be the end.

I might never see him again.

I couldn’t take it. I’d crumble under the weight of it. Feeling suddenly seasick with grief, I turned and grasped onto the person closest to me. I buried my face against Xennet’s arm and wept.

“Should I pet you now?”

Those words, so innocent and so bizarre, snapped me out of my crying jag.

“No, thank you, Xennet. I’m…” I sniffed hard and wiped my eyes. “I’m alright now.”

I left Xennet to stand beside Zohro, who was currently arranging Tenn’s arm across his bare, bloody chest.

“He should wake up soon. Shouldn’t he?” I whispered.

“Theoretically? Yes. There could be a head injury there, but I didn’t see any signs of one. No scalp lacerations. No swelling. So it’s probably the blood loss.”

Zohro grasped a spare towel and began scrubbing his blackened hands with it.

“If he wakes up at all before night falls,” he said gravely, “he’ll probably live.”

“Probably,” I repeated through numb lips.

“The probability is good,” Zohro said. “If he wakes tonight, even once, even if only briefly, that-”

“Tasha!”

The table nearly overturned. Purple limbs thrashed. My heart stopped.

“Restrain him!” roared Zohro. “He’s going to tear his blasted stitches!”

“Tasha!” Tenn tried to bellow, but it came out weakened and raw.

Xennet grabbed Tenn’s ankles. Rivven and Dorn each took one of his shoulders.

“Watch that collarbone,” Zohro snapped. “And you! Human! Get in his blasted eyeline before he bleeds out!”

“Tenn!” I ran to the end of the table where his head was. I bent over him, making sure my face was directly over his. He clenched and strained, fighting against Rivven and Dorn as he stretched himself towards me, eyes white and wild.

“Stop moving,” I begged him, cupping his face with my hands. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

He said only two more words before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

“Marry me.”

He went limp against the table.