Authors: Mary Wine
Brice broke her stare to search the women looking on. Finding Beth, he sent her a hard look.
“Find Jacobs, now!”
Beth grabbed two handfuls of her skirt and ran down the hillside into the battle.
Jacobs looked up as some sort of commotion was occurring on the field. He could hear the cursing of several men. He scanned the area in front of him. The cursing became louder as the column to his immediate right crumbled. The cause of the uproar came barreling full speed right at him. Beth raised horrified blue eyes to his as she struggled for enough breath to speak. With one hand, she pointed up the hill as she forced a string of words out between gasps.
“Grace…I think…she’s…been…shot…somehow.”
Lifting Beth off her feet, Jacobs deposited her ten feet behind the cannon line.
“Stay right there!” he issued the command in deadly ice. Assured that Beth was safe for the moment, Jacobs turned and charged up the hillside.
Brice knew exactly when Jacobs arrived. The curse that exploded from his mouth was more than likely heard by half of the men on the battlefield. He dropped down beside Brice and immediately began to assess her vital signs.
“Helicopter is en route.” Brice’s words were absorbed as Jacobs gently moved Grace’s head around to look at him. Barely conscious, she tried to focus on his eyes.
“Come on, Gracie, don’t quit on me,” he ordered her. Flipping open his satellite link, he scanned it for his men. “God damn bunch of idiots!”
“Let me know if you’re not going to kill the men, because I will.” Increasing his hold on Grace, Brice raised his head to glare at Jacobs. There was an entire Ranger unit in the hills and not a single man in position to protect their operative.
“They were on the other side of the field, watching me.”
“Your junior officer isn’t worth shit,” Brice growled.
Grace watched Jacobs through half-closed eyes. She was focusing on the pain. It would keep her awake longer. Blinding pain meant life, and she wanted to live. Shivers were crossing her skin as her body gave into shock. Rolling her head back to Brice, she tried to form her thoughts into words.
“I’m cold.”
Brice nodded. Brice didn’t dare move his hands, but he didn’t need to. Jacobs shrugged out of his jacket in response to her need. The wool frock coat was long and she sighed as his body heat covered her.
Running his gaze over her, Brice noted the signs of her decreasing condition. Her skin had turned chalk white as her body diverted blood to more important areas.
Where in hell were those medics?
The strength of this woman’s will almost blinded him to one very basic fact. She was half his size. Right now that could mean the difference between life and death. A man could stand the amount of blood loss she was enduring. Brice just prayed that her body could as well.
The medic his county helicopter delivered left much to be desired. Brice glared at the sandy-haired kid as he took his time covering the short distance to his patient.
“I’ll take it from here.”
“Are you a doctor?” Jacobs’s tone clearly indicated that he already knew the fresh-faced youth could be nothing of the sort.
“Emergency medical technician.”
The pride with which the kid issued his credentials told them both that the ink was barely dry on the boy’s certification papers. Jacobs reached out, grabbed the medical box held by the boy and flipped it open before searching out the items he wanted.
“You can’t do that!”
Whatever else the medic intended to say dropped from his lips as he watched Jacobs complete the task of stabilizing his patient. The efficiency of his movements caused the medic to stare in open-mouthed wonder.
Jesus!
Grace had forgotten just how much a shot of adrenaline burned. The accompanying glucose allowed her to not miss a single second of it. She snapped her head over to Jacobs. She knew he’d increase the dosage if she failed to respond quickly. His hazel eyes locked with hers. Grace knew what was coming next. Interrogation. She beat him to it.
“Sunday, June eighth. I have no bloody idea what time it is and I’m twenty-five.”
Jacobs nodded his approval and the medic came forward and began to wrap her for transportation to the medical center. Brice still wouldn’t relinquish his post, and in the end Grace was strapped to the backboard and loaded onto the helicopter with him right alongside her. The helicopter lifted from the ground while Grace locked her eyes with Brice’s.
There was deep worry in his brown eyes. She was too occupied with dealing with the pain to try and place walls between them. Besides, his steady strength seemed to flow between them and Grace was thankful for it. The pain was becoming harder to ignore and she desperately needed to know she wasn’t alone. Brice fulfilled that need. She slowly smiled at him before allowing her eyelids to drop in surrender.
The lights of Tri-county Medical Center were blindingly bright as usual. Brice paced the hallway of the surgical unit. He had been wearing out his boots for the last three hours. Grace had been hustled into surgery and he’d been left standing in the hallway.
This wasn’t the first gunshot wound that he’d brought here. Unfortunately, Brice knew it might not be the last. The fact that it was Grace made all the difference in the world. He was clenched with cold dread at what someone might come out and tell him.
Brice continued his vigil in the hallway. Jacobs had made him swear an oath that he wouldn’t leave Grace’s side. It hadn’t been necessary. There wasn’t a single force on this planet that could have budged him from this spot.
There was one thing he’d rather be doing. Helping Jacobs deal with the shooter. But it wasn’t Brice’s command, and he had to respect that.
Brice’s body jerked as the door opened. Dr. Fenton walked forward, extending his hand out to Brice.
“She’s in recovery now. Lucky girl. It was a clean wound, straight through her side. Missed the liver, so she should be good with some rest if we avoid infection.”
“Can I see her?”
“She’s still out. As soon as she comes around, you’ll be the first person that gets in.”
The doctor rubbed a weary hand across his eyes before making his way down the hallway. Brice waited exactly two seconds before pushing through the doorway that led to the intensive care unit.
“No visitors.” The nurse issued her warning before she even raised her head. “Oh…I’m sorry, Sheriff. Didn’t know it was you.”
Brice looked at the young nurse with critical eyes. She’d come halfway around her duty station before she’d identified him.
“Where is she?”
“She’s in number two.”
Muttering a brief thank you, Brice pulled the curtain back that served as privacy in this ward. Pulling a stool over, he settled himself down. No one was going to get a second chance at her tonight.
Very few people knew who Grace was, so who had fired that shot? It hadn’t been an accident, and he’d bet his last dollar that the person wanted to hit her just the way they had—hard but not lethally.
Someone wanted Grace occupied with something else for the next couple of weeks. Brice would ask her later, but he was almost certain that extreme pain would interfere with the psychic abilities that she had.
But wounding her would keep her in his county for the short term. Long-distance travel would be ill advised considering the potential for blood loss.
Brice found it even more interesting that the man had been able to target her in the midst of a crowd.
None of the facts added up to anything clear.
Whatever was going on was happening in Brice’s county. Running his gaze over Grace, he let his anger show on his face. The physical toll that had been extracted from her was causing his temper to rise. Brice was going to have to make sure to ruin someone’s day.
Chapter Seven
The cloud was so thick it was smothering her. Twisting and fighting through its layers took every last ounce of energy that she had. But Grace persisted. She wanted out, away from the drug-induced slumber.
It wasn’t that much farther. Every single muscle was drawn tight as she shoved her way into consciousness. Forcing her eyelids open, the blinding lights hit her unsuspecting pupils, causing them to scream in protest. She sucked in a huge gasp of air as she forced her eyes to stay open.
Her limbs were heavy, almost stuck to the surface of the bed. Moving one protesting arm across her body she searched for the IV that was allowing the drugs into her bloodstream. The tape crinkled as she tugged at it, pulling it away from the flesh of her arm.
With the tape gone, she moved her fingers toward the slim plastic tubing. Her wrist was gripped just before she captured the thing.
“I think the doctor would rather you left that right where it is.” Brice stared down at her as he settled her arm back alongside her body. He smoothed the tape back onto her skin. Her breath caught and held as she struggled. “I’ll get a nurse to bring you something for the pain.”
“No.” She was barely able to fight off the pain currently floating around her body. But pain was natural. Drugs would rob her of the simplest of thoughts, locking her into blackness where there was no focus, no control.
“You’ve got to be in pain.”
Grace glared at the IV once again. Brice’s hand still covered her own, preventing her from removing the thing. Looking back at his set face, she gave in to her only option. “Please don’t.”
“The pain is only going to get worse, honey.”
“I don’t fear pain,” she assured him.
“You can’t like it very much either.”
His words came out in a low growl. Grace set her teeth into her lower lip in frustration. Brice didn’t understand, and if she didn’t let him inside her feelings a nurse would be pumping her full of morphine in two minutes flat.
“The drugs are suffocating. They lock me in darkness. It’s like being stuffed in a box.”
His eyes wavered in conflict before he dipped his chin in a slight nod. Grace let her breath out in a sigh. Relief was welcome in any form. Even from her fears. The pain of her body would only subside with time.
He shifted his hand, moving it along her arm in slow even strokes. The contact drove home how very cold she was. But it also brought more feeling than simple warmth. Lifting her hand, Grace invited him to touch her. Their fingers touched and mingled in silent intimacy. His brown, steady eyes sank into hers as he slid his palm up to the surface of her face.
Turning her face into his palm, she pulled in the scent of his skin. Rubbing her cheek against his palm, she let her eyelids flutter shut.
Grace ground her teeth together as she slowly forced herself to sit. Just a little bit more. Sweat beaded on her forehead as the pain became blinding. She collapsed back onto the elevated hospital bed as anger flashed through her body. She was so weak she couldn’t even sit. It was intolerable.
The doctor kept telling her to relax and let herself heal. She’d been relaxing for four days already. Wasn’t that enough? She resented having to be looked after. She didn’t have anywhere to go, but she wanted out of the hospital room so badly she ached.
What truly bothered Grace was the fact that the ever-present pain kept her from focusing her mind. Not that she needed to track anything just at the moment, but she felt uneasy with herself distracted completely by her body. The last four days had seemed almost endless.
A quick rap on the door warned her that someone was entering. Jacobs pegged her with a huge smile.
“Tried to sit again, didn’t you?”
There ought to be laws against someone knowing her so well. She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment and heard him laugh softly.
“You make a terrible patient, Gracie.”
“Well, don’t quit your day job, because the nursing field is better off without you.”
The bedside table slid in front of her. Jacobs deposited a tray of food onto it as he smiled at her. “I love my job.”
The man did too. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. But at the moment Grace found it rather suffocating. Jacobs was currently bunking on the opposite side of the room.
Her C.O. never shared her bed, unless it was absolutely unavoidable. However, anytime he felt that there was the slightest threat to her health, he slept in the same room.
She rolled her eyes up to look at Jacobs. He definitely felt there was a threat to her safety now. He wore his gun belt buckled over his fatigue pants. The man always had a gun on his person, but he was displaying it as a warning at the moment. Both to anyone who even thought about coming near this section of the hospital and to Grace herself. He had her locked down and intended to keep it that way until he was satisfied that the threat had been neutralized.
Her gaze fell onto the tray of food that he’d placed on the table. The ever-present pain was robbing her of her appetite. The aroma of the food only managed to cause nausea to rise in her throat. She placed both hands onto the table and shoved it away. Jacobs pushed it right back in front of her.