Cody slumped to the ground. I felt nothing. Just a numb buzzing that seemed to overtake me. I set the gun on the ground and applied pressure to Tuck’s wound. Then I screamed.
My dad was already out the door with his rifle, having heard the shots. He took off at a dead run towards me.
“Call an ambulance!” Tuck’s blood seeped through my fingers. That was wrong. Bad. That needed to stay in his body. I pressed harder on the wound. That’s what they did in movies. But what if it was the wrong thing? What if I did something that killed him? I squeezed my eyes closed and prayed. I willed the blood to stay in his body, for his heart to keep beating.
My father slid down next to me. “Ambulance is on its way. Is he breathing?”
The question tore at my heart. That ragged muscle and sinew. “I don’t know.”
Dad leaned over Tuck, placing his ear next to Tuck’s mouth. “He’s breathing, but it’s very shallow.”
I stared at the blood seeping out between my fingers. “How long?”
Dad swallowed audibly. “They said fifteen minutes.”
The ranch had always been one of my two favorite places in the world. But in that moment, I hated it. Why didn’t we live in a city? Somewhere an ambulance was seconds away. “What else can I do?”
My father’s voice caught in his throat. “You’re doing it. Do you want me to take over?”
“No.” The word came out as a sharp warning. No one could touch Tuck until the EMTs got here. If I was touching him, if I was holding his blood in his body, I could keep him alive. I tried to gentle my tone. “You should check on Cody.”
What did it say about me that I hoped I’d killed him? How was I that person? I guess I was that person for Tuck.
My father jolted as if just realizing that there was another person involved. He jogged over to Cody’s fallen form. I watched as he pressed two fingers to Cody’s neck. His eyes narrowed and then closed. When they opened again, he shook his head.
My shoulders relaxed the barest inch. Then I froze. Something was wrong. Tuck’s body was too still. “Dad! I don’t think he’s breathing.”
My father ran over and dropped to his knees. “You keep pressure on the wound. I’m going to start chest compressions.”
I kept my hold as firm as possible, my dad’s jolts to Tuck’s chest, sending more blood seeping through my fingers.Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.I said it over and over again in my mind. Then I began mouthing the words silently. A chant, a prayer, a call to the Universe to keep this beautiful man here.
Sirens sounded.Finally.The ambulance raced up the drive, and EMTs hopped out. One of them, I didn’t know his name, almost tripped at the sight of Tuck. He knew him. The guy quickly got himself in check and began barking orders.
“Ma’am, I need you to step back,” a female EMT told me.
“I-I can’t. I’m holding pressure on the wound. He’ll bleed too much.”
“It’s okay, I’m going to take over now so we can get him to the hospital.”
I nodded, the action jerky. As soon as I released my hold on Tuck’s chest, the blood pooled. The EMT took my place, blocking my view, but it was too late. I knew it in my bones. Tuck was dying.
I stared down at my hands. So much blood. The liquid began to turn tacky, almost thick. Because blood wasn’t supposed to be on the outside of your body.
My breathing picked up its pace. I couldn’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. They burned with the effort.
“Breathe, baby girl, just breathe.” It was my mom.
“N-N-Noah?” Noah couldn’t see this.
My mom rubbed a hand up and down my spine. “Irma’s got him in the den watching a movie. He doesn’t know what happened.” She tried to usher me a few steps forward.
I refused to move, shaking my head. “No.”
She kept her voice incredibly gentle. “I just need to wash the blood off your hands so we can get in my SUV and follow the ambulance.”
I didn’t move from my spot a mere five feet from Tuck. My mom disappeared. But soon, she was back with a bucket and a rag. I didn’t even recognize the items until she began carefully wiping away the blood. Each swipe of the cloth sent tears spilling over.
“I can’t lose him, Mom.”
