Whirlwind Groom. Debra Cowan

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СКАЧАТЬ the revolver with damp hands, she fired until it was empty. She risked a glance at him, catching a pained look on his face.

      “That’s enough for today.” He walked to the rocks and began gathering up the cans. The cans she hadn’t come close to hitting.

      She waited in a patch of buffalo grass, unwillingly admiring the fluid way he moved, the broad hands that completely covered the cans. “Are you ready to give up on me?”

      She held her breath. If he said yes, what would she do? Her skirt caught on a clump of grass and she tugged it loose.

      Davis Lee started back toward her, holding the burlap sack full of cans. “It’s all in the practice—” He froze midstep. “Don’t move.”

      “What are you—”

      “Don’t. Move.”

      She frowned at the hard command in his voice, freezing as he’d ordered.

      “Snake. I must’ve stirred him up by moving those rocks.”

      “Where?” A sudden crackling noise caused her to involuntarily flinch.

      Davis Lee cried out, “No!” The bag fell to the ground, cans clanging together.

      She recoiled against a sharp blistering stab above her ankle that felt as if a needle had been jabbed into her flesh. A burning shot up her leg.

      He whipped out his own gun and fired twice in rapid succession, aiming between her feet. It happened too fast for Josie to react at all.

      She stumbled back a step, hardly able to make herself look down, but she did.

      A blackish-brown snake with dark, indistinct-shaped markings protruded from beneath her skirts. Even she could identify the alternating black and white rings on its tail, and the rattle at the end. Nausea rolled over her. “Oh, dear.”

      She wobbled.

      “Are you bit?” Davis Lee rushed up. When he saw that the snake lay unmoving, he holstered his weapon. “Rattlesnake.”

      Josie stared hard at the reptile as if she could will it to remain motionless.

      “Josie, are you bit?”

      “Yes.” She lifted her gaze to his, feeling detached from her body.

      He cursed and scooped her unceremoniously into his arms, carrying her a safe distance away. “I’ve got to get the venom out of your leg.”

      He reached their horses and tugged a rolled-up trail blanket from behind his saddle, snapping it open and wrapping it around her before carefully depositing her on the ground. He went to his knees beside her. “Is your vision blurring? Are you nauseous?”

      “No.” She dragged in air, trying to calm her racing pulse and recall what her father had told her about treating snakebites. “It may be ten minutes or so before that happens. We need to work fast though.”

      She already felt short of breath, but maybe that was because she was close to panic. A rattler. She had been bitten by a rattler. She had never even seen a snake, but thanks to her father she knew how to treat a bite. She had to stay as calm as possible.

      Pulling the blanket around her to keep warm and try to combat the shock she knew would come, she reached for the hem of her skirt the same time Davis Lee did.

      “Lie down,” he ordered. “You need to be still and quiet.”

      She knew he was right but needed to do something herself. Pain seared her lower leg as if scalding water had spilled on her.

      “Is it burning?”

      “Yes.” Tears stung her eyes.

      “It’s starting to swell, too,” he muttered.

      “Do you know what to do?”

      “Yes.” He lifted her skirts to her knees, pushing up the hem of her drawers.

      She saw several cuts and scratches around a single puncture just above the top of her boot, the bloody blister forming at the bite that was a few inches above her ankle.

      Her breathing grew labored and the burning in her leg intensified. Forcing away the panic that clawed at her, she focused on remembering her father’s instruction. Her hands moved to her bodice. Any constrictive clothing could increase the swelling and push the flow of venom through her blood faster. She shook so violently she could barely unfasten the buttons, but she managed to spread open the cotton fabric then reach for the fastenings on her corset. Sweat broke across her nape and between her breasts.

      Davis Lee stared at her leg, jerking off his hat. “I’m going to have to cut you and suck out that poison.”

      “I know,” she mumbled. Biting back a whimper at the voracious fire in her lower leg, she fumbled with the hooks down the front of her corset, hoping this would sufficiently loosen her clothing.

      He glanced up then froze. “What in the hell are you doin’?”

      “Constricts my breathing.” She struggled with the last closure just below her waist. “Anything too tight will spread the venom faster.”

      He frowned, but pulled out his whittling knife with its four-inch blade and reached toward her. The whetted steel sliced easily through the thread securing her corset hook. The loosened garment relaxed, freeing her breasts, her ribs, and she dragged in a deep breath.

      He moved back to her leg with the big knife. Josie gasped and lifted herself onto her elbows. “No, not yours. Mine.”

      “There’s no time—”

      “Use…mine.” Sweat dampened her palms as she reached for her scalpel and handed it to him. “If you butcher me with your knife, you might damage my muscle. Use this.”

      He took the instrument, pushing her back down before leaning over her leg and aiming intently for the bite.

      “Tie your kerchief around my calf about two inches above the puncture, just so it forms a light band. Keep the incision small and in the bite. That will help minimize the damage.”

      “I know how to do this. How do you—never mind.” He applied the bandanna.

      She shakily slid two fingers beneath the fabric to make sure it wasn’t too tight then turned her head away as he made small, shallow cuts in her leg. Between the burning agony of the wound and the slices into her flesh, Josie nearly passed out.

      She was vaguely cognizant of the fact that a man she barely knew had lifted her skirts.

      His lips touched her leg, the heat of his mouth lost under the fever of her skin. She felt the starch seep out of her. Her breathing grew more forced; her pulse raced. The wound throbbed ceaselessly.

      “Hang on.” Davis Lee sucked at the wound and spit so often that Josie lost track of time.

      She curled her fingers into the blanket trying to keep from passing out. The inside of her mouth tasted as rusty as СКАЧАТЬ