packed supplies. “They even have gum and energy bars, pain pills and lollipops, of all things.”
“We’re covered,” he said, shifting in the seat and feeling a stab of pain on his left side.
She took some things out, laid the tin behind her on her seat, then turned to Gage. “We...we just need to stop the blood, and get a bandage on it.” She reached toward him, the tips of her fingers brushing at his hair, and a frown spread across her face. “You might need stitches.”
“Whoa, you don’t do stitches, do you?”
She drew back. “No, but I think when we get to Wolf Lake you should see your doctor.”
“Good suggestion, when we get there.” He wasn’t going to say anything about “if” they got there. Now wasn’t the time to give her a rundown on what most likely was going to happen.
She tore open a package that held a cotton pad. “I’m going to have to put pressure on the wound, so it might hurt.”
“Go for it,” he said, feeling a trickle of blood on his cheek. “It sure can’t hurt as much as the results of one of Adam’s dares that went wrong.”
She eased the cotton gently onto his wound, her free hand brushing at his hair to clear it from the mess. He winced before he could stop himself. Lots of exposed nerve endings, he thought as he closed his eyes and let her do what she had to do. When she sat back with a sigh, he opened his eyes again. The blood on her hands startled him. She reached for a wipe and started to make the deep red disappear.
“Thanks,” he said gratefully.
“What did Adam dare you to do?” she asked as she finished cleaning her hands, ripped open another package and tore off short strips of adhesive tape.
As she put on the bandage, he told her about his wild, but fun childhood. “The midnight run to the lake, and the cliff we almost fell off of,” he murmured as she wiped at his jaw and neck with a cool cleansing pad. “Adam dared me to do that.”
“I can’t believe you accepted those dares.”
“Sure did. And lived to regret them,” he confessed as she gently fastened the adhesive strips to the cotton pad and his skin.
She moved back a bit and studied him. “You need clean clothes.” She waved vaguely at his jacket and shirt that he knew were ruined. “They’re really...” She crinkled her perfectly straight nose. “Really messy.”
“I wish I had a change of clothes, but...” He shrugged. “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”
Unexpectedly, his offhanded quote brought the touch of a smile to her lips. “And I’d need to learn to ride if wishes were horses.”
His own smile nudged at him, despite the pain that seemed to be clamping around his head. “I’d teach you,” he murmured, intrigued by the softening in her face, and how she turned from him as he spoke.
She drew away, maneuvered back to her seat, miraculously getting the tin with the first-aid supplies back on the console before she dropped down in her seat with a whoosh. Finally, Merry glanced over at him. “Just tell me what happened to make us...land,” she said, obviously avoiding the word crash. “And what has to be done to get this thing going again.”
He blinked, hoping against hope she was joking. She wasn’t, so he answered her first question. “My best guess is, besides the storm, there was a problem with the electric and the motor was stalling, they couldn’t get in sync again.” He didn’t sugarcoat his next words. “And thankfully it doesn’t smell like there’s any break in the fuel lines, or it could have been a whole lot worse.”
He was going to continue to answer her, but was stricken with a sharp jolt of pain. He stayed very still. He had no choice. His ribs had chosen right then to feel like a hot vise around his chest. He kept that to himself. A broken rib was manageable if there weren’t any other symptoms that developed.
“I wonder how we look from outside,” he said, hating the unsteadiness in his own voice.
He knew the
“We’re covered,” he said, shifting in the seat and feeling a stab of pain on his left side.
She took some things out, laid the tin behind her on her seat, then turned to Gage. “We...we just need to stop the blood, and get a bandage on it.” She reached toward him, the tips of her fingers brushing at his hair, and a frown spread across her face. “You might need stitches.”
“Whoa, you don’t do stitches, do you?”
She drew back. “No, but I think when we get to Wolf Lake you should see your doctor.”
“Good suggestion, when we get there.” He wasn’t going to say anything about “if” they got there. Now wasn’t the time to give her a rundown on what most likely was going to happen.
She tore open a package that held a cotton pad. “I’m going to have to put pressure on the wound, so it might hurt.”
“Go for it,” he said, feeling a trickle of blood on his cheek. “It sure can’t hurt as much as the results of one of Adam’s dares that went wrong.”
She eased the cotton gently onto his wound, her free hand brushing at his hair to clear it from the mess. He winced before he could stop himself. Lots of exposed nerve endings, he thought as he closed his eyes and let her do what she had to do. When she sat back with a sigh, he opened his eyes again. The blood on her hands startled him. She reached for a wipe and started to make the deep red disappear.
“Thanks,” he said gratefully.
“What did Adam dare you to do?” she asked as she finished cleaning her hands, ripped open another package and tore off short strips of adhesive tape.
As she put on the bandage, he told her about his wild, but fun childhood. “The midnight run to the lake, and the cliff we almost fell off of,” he murmured as she wiped at his jaw and neck with a cool cleansing pad. “Adam dared me to do that.”
“I can’t believe you accepted those dares.”
“Sure did. And lived to regret them,” he confessed as she gently fastened the adhesive strips to the cotton pad and his skin.
She moved back a bit and studied him. “You need clean clothes.” She waved vaguely at his jacket and shirt that he knew were ruined. “They’re really...” She crinkled her perfectly straight nose. “Really messy.”
“I wish I had a change of clothes, but...” He shrugged. “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”
Unexpectedly, his offhanded quote brought the touch of a smile to her lips. “And I’d need to learn to ride if wishes were horses.”
His own smile nudged at him, despite the pain that seemed to be clamping around his head. “I’d teach you,” he murmured, intrigued by the softening in her face, and how she turned from him as he spoke.
She drew away, maneuvered back to her seat, miraculously getting the tin with the first-aid supplies back on the console before she dropped down in her seat with a whoosh. Finally, Merry glanced over at him. “Just tell me what happened to make us...land,” she said, obviously avoiding the word crash. “And what has to be done to get this thing going again.”
He blinked, hoping against hope she was joking. She wasn’t, so he answered her first question. “My best guess is, besides the storm, there was a problem with the electric and the motor was stalling, they couldn’t get in sync again.” He didn’t sugarcoat his next words. “And thankfully it doesn’t smell like there’s any break in the fuel lines, or it could have been a whole lot worse.”
He was going to continue to answer her, but was stricken with a sharp jolt of pain. He stayed very still. He had no choice. His ribs had chosen right then to feel like a hot vise around his chest. He kept that to himself. A broken rib was manageable if there weren’t any other symptoms that developed.
“I wonder how we look from outside,” he said, hating the unsteadiness in his own voice.
He knew the
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