Tell him.
Even one-handed, he was skilled, using the balled up sweatshirt to put pressure on Dottie’s wound while his own ran.
Dottie’s taste in furniture revealed her love of doilies and lace window curtains. Jumping up, Taylor carried the baby over to an old wooden dining table covered with a white tablecloth. Using her own single-handed skills, she whipped the tablecloth off, knocking over two silver candlestick holders. The baby picked up her crescendo again and Taylor bounced her on her hip, shushing her.
Which did absolutely no good. Taylor bent down next to Matt. “Let me wrap this around your shoulder. You’re losing too much blood.”
The blood was everywhere, running down his useless arm, soaking his shirtsleeve, dripping on the floor. “I’m all right, Taylor.”
“Look, I get it, you’re a macho man, but macho or not, stop being an idiot.”
Wrapping Matt’s shoulder with one hand wasn’t possible. Using a foot, she snagged her toes around the carrier and drew it close, depositing the infant into her seat, then carefully maneuvering the sheet under Matt’s armpit and around his shoulder. “Clean exit wound. Looks like it went straight through.”
“Taylor…” His tone was impatient.
The baby quieted into hiccups, her eyes round and brimmed with tears as she watched Taylor work on Matt while he kept pressure on Dottie’s chest.
“Shut it,” Taylor said, her hands shaking.Too much blood.
The tablecloth was thin enough, making it easy to tie. She snugged it down with a knot on top of his shoulder and Matt winced.
In the distance, she heard sirens. Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. Probably Grey. “I hear the ambulance. Hang in there. It’s almost here.”
“Good,” Matt ground out, a muscle in his jaw jumping. He teetered slightly on his knees. “I think I’ll take you up on your offer and—”
Boop, over he went, just like that. Lights out, his face smacking the floor next to the carrier.
The baby’s face screwed up and froze for half a second, and then, yep,here we go again.
Shrieking howls split the air.
“Matt!” Taylor pulled his head into her lap and tapped his cheeks, then checked his pulse. Slow and thready, but solid. The loss of blood had probably shocked his body.
Tell him.
But he couldn’t hear her now, even if she did say the words that terrified her as much as seeing this man unconscious.
The baby was swinging her fists, her cries reverberating in Taylor’s ears, and for a moment, Taylor felt like having a good old-fashioned cry as well.
Suck it up.Nobody is dying on my watch today.
Reaching over, she extracted the baby from the carrier and held her close. “It’s going to be okay,” she told the little girl. “I promise, everything is going to be okay.”
The baby didn’t buy it, smacking Taylor with her fists as she cried into Taylor’s shoulder.
Taylor rocked the baby and patted Matt’s face. “Thanks a lot, Mad Dog. Leave me with the screaming kid. I’m going to get you for this.”
His lips parted on a sigh and he spoke so softly, Taylor could barely hear him. “You’ll make a good mom someday, Sinclair.”
“Matt?” She patted his face again, but he didn’t open his eyes. “Stay with me, Matt.”
His face went slack, his head dropping to the side.
Tell him.
Taylor screwed up her courage as she heard the ambulance pulling up outside. “I love you,” she whispered, rocking, patting, and praying. “Whatever you do, Matt, please don’t leave me.”
* * *
