Read Online A Very Special Delivery by Linda Goodnight - Free Book Online Page B

and her
stomach churned from the strong odor of lantern fuel spilled all around her. The
kerosene’s wetness seeped through her sweat pants.
    Anxious for fresh air, she pushed off the steps and rushed out
of the cellar.
    “So much for stocking up on kerosene,” she muttered and started
back to the house, her errand a failure.
    A throbbing pain in her leg was the first warning that more
than her pride was wounded. The bright red blood dripping from her lower leg
onto the white ground was the second.
    She looked behind her, saw the trail and knew she was in
trouble. Between the reek of fuel and the sight of her own blood, she grew
woozy.
    If only she had a towel or something to staunch the flow.
    Once on the porch, she stopped to have a look. A gaping slash
cut through her sweats and ran from the side of her calf to above her knee.
Several other smaller tears in the pants oozed blood as well.
    This was not good. Not good at all.
    She pressed her gloved hand against the tide.
    Music filtered from inside the house.
    “Ethan!” she called, hoping he could hear over the radio.
    Immediately, the door opened behind her.
    “Need some help with that wood…?” His voice trailed off when
she twisted toward him.
    “Molly!”
    She tried to smile and failed miserably. All the nerve endings
running from her calf to her brain had come to vivid life. “I cut my leg.”
    He dropped down beside her. “Let me see.”
    “You’ll get all bloody.”
    He grunted an impatient, completely male dismissal and pushed
her hands aside. She stared in surprise at her blood-soaked gloves while Ethan
ripped the torn sweats up to the knee in order to assess the damage.
    “Put your hands right here,” he said, guiding her to press hard
on the wound. “Looks like you’ve hit a bleeder.”
    “No kidding,” she murmured, stunned at how the blood kept
coming.
    “We need to get you inside where I can have a better look.”
    With no further warning, he scooped her up as if she weighed no
more than Laney, kicked the door open, and carried her into the kitchen where he
lowered her into a straight-backed chair.
    From a drawer, Ethan pulled a handful of towels and fell to his
knees before her.
    Her clothes stank of kerosene and her head reeled from the
smell.
    “I stink,” she said, embarrassed both by the smell and the
attention.
    As if she were a troublesome child, he shot her a silencing
glance and then went to work. His expert fingers probed and pushed at the torn
flesh.
    “This needs sutures,” he muttered, his mouth a grim, flat line.
“A lot of them.”
    “Got any on you?” Molly joked, gazing down at the top of his
head where she noted, with unusual interest, the way his brown hair grew in a
crooked whorl at the crown. The idea that he’d battled a powerful cowlick as a
boy made her smile. He’d probably looked adorable.
    Busy securing a pressure bandage over the wound, Ethan didn’t
answer her silly question.
    When he finished, Molly tried to stand but was quickly pressed
back into the chair. “Stay still. I have the bleeding under control for now, but
moving around will exacerbate it.”
    “My floor—”
    He reached for her wrist, felt her pulse. “I’ll clean it up.”
    She favored him with what she considered a coquettish smile.
“You’re pretty handy, you know that, Mr. Delivery Man?”
    A pair of serious blue eyes assessed her. “You’re not getting
shocky on me, are you?”
    Good question. Maybe she was. “My head hurts and I feel a
little woozy. I think it’s the kerosene on my clothes.”
    He stepped back. “Better change. Just go very easy on that leg.
I’d like the bleeding to be completely stopped before I leave.”
    “Leave?” She had to focus to remember. Where was it he was
going?
    He rubbed at the scar, brow wrinkling in concern. “To dig out
the van. Remember? The sooner I do that, the quicker we can get you to a
doctor.”
    Oh, yeah. She’d forgotten. Maybe she was a little shocky.
    Holding to the