Page 76 of Careless Hope
“Help me,” she said, her voice steady despite the chaos around us.
I nodded, stepping forward without hesitation. I didn’t know much about doctoring, but I knew about being there for someone when they needed help. Whether it was a spooked horse or a bleeding stranger, you didn’t back down. You showed up. And that’s what I was going to do for Caroline, and for this woman before us.
“Whatever you need,” I told her, my voice firm, even if everything inside me was reeling. “I’m here. Cops are on the way.”
Caroline’s hands, usually so steady and precise when stitching up a cut or setting a bone, trembled as she applied pressure to the wound. I stepped closer, my own hands itching to do something—anything—to help.
“Get me the stat kit from the cabinet in the hall,” she directed without looking up, her voice more composed than I felt.
I rushed out to the wall-mounted cabinet, flinging it open. The shelves were neatly organized with supplies, labels facing out, ready for quick retrieval. I grabbed the kit and was back by her side in seconds, laying it out on the counter like some makeshift operating table. My fingers fumbled with the latches before flipping it open.
“Here,” I said, keeping my tone level. “What’s next?”
“Hand me the gauze pads, quickly,” she instructed, nodding towards the stack of white squares.
I did as told, moving with an urgency that matched the pulse hammering against my temples. Caroline swapped out the blood-soaked cloths with fresh ones, layering them with practiced efficiency.
“Keep those compresses tight,” she ordered, her eyes fixed on the task at hand.
“Got it.” I pressed down as she started wrapping bandages around the woman’s midsection, working to stem the flow of blood. A ranch dealt you plenty of wounds, broken bones, and birthing complications, but nothing quite like this.
“Who did this?” I couldn’t keep the growl from my voice, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of danger still lurking.
Caroline didn’t meet my gaze, focused on securing the bandage. “Her husband Jim. He . . . he just ran out after he shot her.”
The very idea that someone could hurt another person—let alone his wife—like this and then just take off, leaving them to die . . . well, it set my blood boiling. Protectiveness surged through me, fierce and primal. This was my town, these were my people, and no one got to come in here and shatter our peace, putting my woman in the crosshairs like this.
“Did you see which way he went? Did he say anything?” I asked, trying to piece together the puzzle while keeping pressure on the wound.
She shook her head, her auburn hair catching the light, making it look like fire. “He kept trying to get inside, to get to her. Then the moment he did, he just . . . shot at her,” she paused, her voice cracking just slightly, “What if he comes back?”
“He won’t get past me,” I promised her, and meant every word. My life might have been a series of bucked broncos and wild nights, but in this moment, I knew there wasn’t a force on earth that could make me leave Caroline’s side. If danger came knocking, it would find me standing guard, ready to protectwhat mattered most.
“Stay with me, okay?” Caroline whispered to the injured woman, who was drifting in and out of consciousness.
“Sirens,” I said.
But as we waited for those sirens that seemed too distant, a chill crept down my spine. The silence around us was heavy, loaded with the unsaid. The man who’d done this was still out there, somewhere and I couldn’t shake the nagging thought that our trouble was far from over.
“Once the police get here, they’ll secure the place. But until then, I’m not letting you out of my sight,” I told her, my gaze scanning the room, searching shadows and expecting them to move.
“Feels like we’re sitting ducks,” she whispered.
“Maybe,” I admitted, “but we’re not defenseless. You’ve got your smarts, and I’ve got . . . ” I looked down at my callused hands, rough from years of ranch work, “ . . . these, and a whole lot of stubborn.”
“Quite the arsenal,” she replied with a faint smile.
I glanced out the broken door, squinting into the darkness. Somewhere out there, a threat lurked, a reminder that this night’s work wasn’t yet done. But here inside, there was Caroline, her strength mingling with vulnerability, and I felt it—my role was to protect, to serve as her shield against whatever chaos lay waiting.
26
Caroline
The momentthe door to the office swung open, my breath hitched. Walker Anderson, in all his rugged glory, stood there like some unexpected guardian angel. His light blue eyes scanned the chaos of the room before landing on me, a silent question in their depths—‘What can I do to help?’ The racing of my heart couldn’t decide if it was spurred by fear or the sudden relief washing over me.
Time slowed to a crawl as I worked on Lily, the steady thrum of my heart serving as a metronome for my actions. Each second mattered, each movement precise—a dance I had practiced countless times in sterile hospitals, now performed in the all-too-real setting of my father’s old office. My hands didn’t shake; they couldn’t afford to. Not when Lily’s shallow breathing was the only sound louder than my own determined exhales.
“Come on, Lily, stay with me,” I murmured, more to myself than to her. The gauze became saturated too quickly, and I replaced it with more, pressing down with a gentle firmness that belied the chaos threatening to erupt within me. This wasn’t just another patient; this was someone’s sister, someone’s friend. Andin a town as small as Whittier Falls, that meant she was practically family.
