Read Online What's in a Name? by Terry Odell - Free Book Online Page B

he seemed to be in
pain. She removed his work boots. His socks were soaked. She pulled
them off, too. Shit, he was totally drenched. She had to get him
patched up. She reached for his belt and hesitated.
    For God’s sake, she’d been married. Had
a son. The male body was nothing new to her. She unbuckled his belt
and pulled off his jeans. Briefs, not boxers. Low rise, navy blue.
Those she left alone. There was no way she could work his
turtleneck over his head without his help. She retrieved the
house’s first-aid kit and using its scissors, cut the shirt and
wrestled it off his body.
    She filled a bowl with warm water,
soaped a washcloth and went to work cleaning him. Searching the
kit, she found an assortment of butterfly strips, some larger gauze
pads and tape, a few foil packets of alcohol swabs and a bottle of
hand sanitizer. Using a gauze pad, she wiped his chest with the
hand sanitizer. She sealed the edges of the cut with butterfly
strips, covered it with a thick pad of gauze and taped it down.
Nasty bruises had already surfaced around his shoulder. She
wondered if she should check his back, but he was too heavy. There
was no blood on the back of his turtleneck so she let it go.
    His breathing had steadied. Since he’d
collapsed on top of the bedcovers, she draped a fresh sheet and
blanket over him. She pulled a chair from her office, placed it
near the door and watched his chest rise and fall.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Blake opened his eyes. Good Lord,
everything hurt. Slowly, he got his bearings. Camp Getaway, but not
his lumpy mattress. He turned his head and immediately regretted it
when a blinding pain shot through his head. He gasped, which shot
fire through his rib cage. “Holy crap,” he muttered.
    “ You’re awake,” Kelli
said.
    Moving only his eyes, he noticed her
watching, but from well out of reach. As if he could move enough to
do anything. She held the gun in her lap. The knife was gone. “How
long—?”
    “ Half an hour.” She
stood, but didn’t move closer. “How do you feel? Can you travel? I
need to get out of here.”
    At the anxiety in her tone, he bit off
the obvious, “Are you kidding?” in favor of a more neutral, “Give
me a minute.” An inch at a time, he worked his way up to a sitting
position, fighting the dizziness at every increment. Sweat trickled
down his spine.
    “ What happened to
Scumbag?” he asked.
    She cocked her head. “Who?”
    “ The guy attacking
you.”
    Her face paled and she sank into the
chair. She looked around, her gaze stopping on the uniform trousers
in the corner and he saw her remembering. “Oh, God. It wasn’t you.
It was Decker.”
    “ Decker?”
    “ Park
ranger.”
    So Scumbag had a name. “I don’t think
he was a real ranger.”
    “ He’s gone. I guess.”
An expression of panic crossed her face. “Did you—”
    “ I tied him up and
locked him in my bathroom after you knocked him out.”
    “ I did?”
    “ With your flashlight.
Do you remember?”
    She shook her head. “Not really. I was
afraid I’d stabbed you.”
    “ No, I think you saved
both our skins. You have any idea who he is? Did you call the
cops?”
    She shook her head. “Phone lines are
still down.” When she lifted the revolver, his mouth got dry. But
quick as a rabbit, she was out of the room. He swung his legs over
the side of the bed and rose to a standing position, grabbing the
headboard for support. He seemed to be moving in slow motion. Naked
except for his briefs and bandage, he spied his wet jeans beside
the bed. He stared at them, knowing his head would explode if he
bent down to pick them up.
    Before he gathered the courage to try,
Kelli was back, with dry clothes. “Here.” She tossed them on the
bed. “I’m going to start loading the truck. You want me to pack
your stuff, or can you handle it?”
    Right now, he wasn’t sure he’d be able
to handle getting his socks on. “If you don’t mind. And a couple of
aspirin would be great.” She turned