The Loner. Lindsay McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ eyes was marred with vulnerability. As he tried to straighten his left arm, he managed to rasp through gritted teeth, “Get me to the E.R.”

      * * *

      THE WOMAN REACHED OUT, her hand wrapping quickly around his right arm. “Lean on me,” she told him. “I’ve called for help and they’re on the way. I won’t let you fall.”

      The world began to gray out around Dakota as the tall, statuesque blonde in a sheriff’s deputy uniform firmly gripped his upper arm. He was surprised at the cool authority in her unruffled voice, the strength of her hand around his arm. She looked like a Barbie doll, one who easily brought him into a standing position and guided his arm across her shoulders. For a Barbie doll, she was in damn good shape.

      “Bullet wound?” she asked, taking his full weight.

      “Bear bite,” he managed to rasp out, closing his eyes. “I’m going to faint. Too much blood loss...”

      Instantly, Shelby placed her feet apart for better balance. She felt him go limp. Damn! She might be five foot eleven, but this guy was taller and bigger than she was. Glancing upward, she saw the gurney flying toward them with two men in green scrubs pushing it as fast as it would go.

      Within moments, the two young men arrived. Together, the three of them wrestled the unconscious hunter up and on the gurney.

      “Get him inside,” Shelby ordered, her voice tight with tension. She trotted at his side as the orderlies pushed the gurney full speed toward the doors. Gripping his good shoulder, Shelby didn’t want him to be knocked off while the gurney slipped and slid on the ice and snow across the asphalt. She glanced down at him. In that moment, the hunter looked vulnerable. But just barely. The duct tape around his bleeding left arm made her frown. Duct tape? Helluva way to stop a wound from bleeding out. Who was this guy?

      Inside, Shelby spotted Dr. Jordana McPherson, head of E.R., running to meet them as they came inside the warm entrance.

      “Shelby?” Jordana called, running up.

      “Hunter, I guess. Said he was attacked by a bear and had lost a lot of blood,” she told the doctor. She stepped aside as they pushed the gurney into a blue-curtained cubicle. Shelby watched as Jordana quickly took a pair of scissors and cut through the silver duct tape on the hunter’s bloodied left arm.

      “Okay, good to know. Who is he? Do we have any identification on him?”

      Instantly, two other nurses appeared in the cubicle to help the doctor. They locked the wheels on the gurney.

      Shelby moved next to the hunter. His face looked like chalk beneath his dark stubble. She sensed danger around this man for no specific reason. Quickly patting down his camo pants, she felt something in the right pocket on his thigh. She slid her fingers down into the deep pocket.

      “God, he has everything in here but the kitchen sink,” she muttered, pulling articles out and laying them beside him. Finally, she discovered a wallet and stepped back as the nurses covered him with a blanket and started an IV.

      She opened up the wallet. “His name is Dakota Carson.” Shelby looked over at Jordana. “Ring any bells, Doc?”

      “Yes,” Jordana said, pulling the entire duct tape assembly away from his arm. Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I thought I recognized him. He’s an ex-SEAL, just got a medical discharge from the U.S. Navy. I saw him once, a month ago. He was supposed to come here for follow-up physical therapy on his left shoulder.”

      Nodding, Shelby placed the wallet on a tray where the nurse had placed all the other items. “Never seen him before.”

      “Mr. Carson is a loner.” Jordana’s mouth tightened as she surveyed his chewed-up lower arm. “This bear has done some major damage to him....” Jordana looked to her red-haired nurse. “Alanna, get me an O.R. ready. And call in the ortho surgeon, Dr. Jamison. Get me his blood type.” Taking out her stethoscope, she pulled back the camo jacket and placed it over his heart.

      Shelby felt the urgency and saw it in Jordana’s face. She’d come to like the E.R. doctor who was good at what she did. “How bad?”

      “Bad,” she muttered, throwing the stethoscope around her neck. “He’s right, he’s lost a lot of blood.”

      Just then, Dakota’s eyes slowly opened. “He’s coming around,” Shelby warned the E.R. doc.

      “Amazing.”

      Shelby placed her hand gently on his right shoulder. “Mr. Carson? You’re here in the E.R. at the hospital. You’re in good hands.” She looked into his murky-looking brown eyes, which were full of confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a groan issued forth. Shelby tightened her hand on his shoulder. The man was in incredible shape. A former Navy SEAL. She knew enough about SEALs to understand he was a warrior, the toughest of the tough. His eyes wandered for a moment, but then they stopped and focused on Shelby.

      Sucking in a breath, Shelby felt the full measure of his intense gaze. Those eyes were hunter’s eyes. Huge black pupils on a field of golden-brown color. Surprise flared in his expression, and then, something else she couldn’t interpret.

      She gave him a slight smile. “You’re in good hands. Dr. McPherson is here. You’re going to be all right.”

      Jordana came around and Shelby released him and stood aside.

      “Mr. Carson, I’m Dr. McPherson. Can you hear me?”

      Dakota managed a sloppy grin, only half his mouth working because of the surging pain. “Yeah, Doc. I remember you. I missed a bunch of appointments. I’m blood type A. I’m gonna need transfusions. Bear cut an artery in my left arm....”

      “That’s what I needed to hear,” Jordana said quietly, patting his shoulder in a motherly way. “I’m leaving the tourniquet in place until we can get you into surgery and stabilized.” She lifted her head, called to the second nurse, “Joy, get me two pints of type A ready in the O.R.”

      “Right away, Doctor.”

      “You’re gonna need one and a half pints to put in what I’ve lost,” he grunted. His gaze moved from the worried-looking doctor to the woman standing behind her. Barbie Doll. Damn, but she was beautiful with her sandy-blond hair falling around her shoulders. Her blue eyes were wide and curious. What didn’t make any sense was her sheriff’s uniform, all dark brown slacks that hid her long legs and a nylon jacket showing her name and badge on it. Shelby Kincaid. Funny, for a moment, he thought he recognized her. But from where? His mind wouldn’t work. He memorized her name.

      “We’ll see,” Jordana said. “You’re going to need more than stitches on that bear bite, Dakota.”

      He smiled a little as the nurse came and stuck a syringe of morphine into the IV tube to drip into his vein. “I figured as much. Just wanted to make it here so you could work your magic, Doc.”

      Patting his arm, Jordana said, “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Dakota. I’ve got to go scrub up.”

      Dakota felt the pressure of the nurse putting a clean dressing on his wound. At first, it hurt like hell, but then, as the morphine began to flow through his veins, the pain eased considerably. All the time, he held the gaze of the beautiful deputy sheriff standing nearby. Who was she? Looking at her oval face, СКАЧАТЬ