"Are you okay?" I asked, taking in the multiple abrasions that marred his handsome features. Do I look that bad? I couldn't help thinking.
"Not really," he said, throwing me for a loop. With the exception of his raincoat being pretty much ripped to shreds in the front, and the multiple scratches on his face and hands, he looked relatively okay. I watched as he struggled to a sitting position that he couldn't quite manage. He wound up settling for resting on his elbows. I stepped forward to offer help, but was puzzled about what his injury was.
"Are you hurt?" I asked.
"You could say that," he said, looking at me gravely as he slowly lifted the edge of his trashed raincoat to reveal his legs.
The acid rolled in my stomach. “Oh my God,” I said as I took in the sight of his legs. It took me a moment to comprehend what I was looking at. The left leg looked fine with the exception of multiple tears in the jeans, but it was his right leg that made me swallow back the bile rising in my throat. A sharp, jagged-looking stick poked out where there should have been denim. It was only after looking at it closer that I realized the white stick wasn't a stick at all—it was his bone. The impact of the fall had obviously snapped the bone in half, making the jagged edge pierce through not only the skin, but also the denim from his jeans.
I swayed on my feet, looking at the bleeding oozing mess that just hours before had been a functional limb.
"Kimberly, look at me," Mason said, finally dragging my attention from his mangled leg. It took me a moment to finally look up into his face that was devoid of color. "Are you okay?" he asked, voicing the same question I had just asked him.
I laughed a humorless laugh. No, I wasn't okay. Nothing about this situation was okay. I wanted to rant and rave, to stomp my feet, but most of all, I just wanted to be home. I pulled it together before answering him. Now was not the time to lose it. Now was the time to pull on my big girl panties as Quinn would say and figure out how I was going to get us out of this mess.
"I'm fine," I said, finally meeting his eyes. "Well, except for a broken finger," I said, holding up my finger to show him.
He chuckled and then grimaced in pain as I flipped him off while displaying my injury.
"Yeah, this would have come in handy two days ago when you were still pissing me off," I said wryly.
He shot me a small smile laced with pain.
"Sooo, guess I'm the last man standing," I continued to joke as I pulled my backpack off. "Where's your bag?" I asked more seriously.
"I'm guessing halfway between us and the spot where the earth decided to open up out from under us. I lost the walkie-talkie too," he said, obviously disgusted with himself. "But I did manage to hold onto this," he said, holding up his flashlight.
I nearly wept when I saw it. With the rain still continuing to fall, I had begun to doubt that help would come today, making another night outdoors inevitable.
Holding my tears in check, I went for a saucy comeback. "Well, I guess I'll keep you around," I said, digging through my bag. I pulled out one of the three bottles of water from inside. I handed it to Mason to open since my finger made it impossible to twist the lid.
He took a long drink and then handed it back to me. I took a smaller drink, but he forced me to drink more. "Obtaining more water won't be an issue," he said as the rain continued to pelt us.
I nodded before dealing with the most pressing issue at hand. "What are we going to do about that?" I asked pointedly, looking at his leg.
"I won't be able to move until we stabilize it, but even then, short of scooting on my ass, I won't be doing much moving."
"Stabilize?" I asked, trying to not think about the idea of touching the mangled mess and causing him more pain.
"Yeah, you'll have to help me stabilize it," he said. "In your bag, you should have a first aid kit. Double check to make sure it's in there."
I pulled the flap of the bag open and reached inside with my one good hand. I fumbled around a little, maneuvering the other two water bottles to the side until I finally felt the small rectangular box with my fingers. "Aha," I said, holding the box up triumphantly.
"Okay, good. Open it up and see if the ACE bandage is in there," he said, lying back down, clearly spent from holding himself up.
I fumbled with the latch of the box with my one hand and finally leaned forward to use my teeth to pop the stubborn lock. The box sprang open and I had to juggle the contents as they threatened to spill out. Taking a quick inventory, I saw several different sized Band-Aids, a handful of packets of Advil, individually wrapped alcohol wipes, a roll of gauze, a small tube of antibiotic cream and a rolled-up ACE bandage. I had to bite back a near hysterical laugh at the small tube of antibiotic cream. It would be as effective at treating Mason's open wound as applying duct tape to a leak in a dam.
"Did you find it?" Mason asked, trying to peer at me from his prone position.
"Yeah," I said, trying to shake off my despair as I shoved the Band-Aids, gauze, cream, wipes and pain relievers back into the small white plastic box. I held up the rolled-up bandage into his line of vision so he could see it.
"Okay, good," he said, raising himself back up on his elbows. "You need to search around and find two branches that are each roughly two-feet long, with maybe a quarter-inch diameter. They need to be as straight as you can find. Stay within sight of where I am so you don't get turned around and lost," he added, sinking back down with his eyes closed in obvious pain.
"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching for his hand unconsciously. The ashen look his face had taken was scary. Tears flooded my eyes as the enormity of the situation overwhelmed me. He needed me like no one ever had before. This was a situation I couldn't hide from and no one was waiting in the wings to swoop in to do it for me.
"I will be once we stabilize my leg. Whenever I move the pain ricochets throughout my body," he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't cry, it's all good," he added, trying to reassure me.
"I'm not crying, it's the rain," I lied, putting on a tougher act than I felt. "You just lay there and look pretty while I do all the work," I teased, gently extracting my hand from his so I could swipe the moisture from my face.
"You do that, and see if you can whip me up some grub and a dryer bed too," he teased with his eyes closed again.
"Sure thing, princess," I teased, standing up.
I left the brush that hid Mason from view and started scouting around for sticks that matched his description. Keeping his hideout in my line of vision, I continued to look along the base of the mountain. After just a few minutes, I hit pay dirt on two of his requests. Smiling to myself in satisfaction, I was happy to have a goal in mind.
I could do this.
With a solid plan now set in my mind, I hurried back to Mason, ready to offer him some relief. He was asleep when I arrived back at his side. I set the sticks to the side and studied his leg while he slept. I turned off the part of my mind that wanted to reject what I was seeing and instead studied it much like I would a piece of art that I was analyzing. The bone sticking out of the skin was my biggest concern. I knew enough about the human body to know that an open wound was not a good thing. I was puzzled it wasn't bleeding profusely, but suspected it must not have hit any kind of artery when it broke through the skin. Looking at it closely, I saw that dirt and debris had found its way into the wound making it clear that it would have to be cleaned thoroughly if I was going to save him from infection. The fact that the denim on that leg was ripped to shreds would make my job easier when it came to cleaning the leg effectively. After several minutes of studying the injury, I sat back. I wasn't looking forward to what I was going to have to do, but having a plan at least made it easier to accept.
Taking my eyes from his injury, I studied his features while he slept. Now that we weren't at each other's throats, I could appreciate how handsome he really was. Even with multiple scratches, he still had the rugged good looks they had to Photoshop on most male models. He screamed outdoors and maleness.
Even laid up, he gave off the aura of protectiveness. Without thinking, I reached my hand up to brush a smudge of dirt off his forehead.
"Taking advantage of me, beach bunny?" he mocked lightly with his eyes still closed.
"Yep, you found me out. I've just been waiting for the right moment to make my move," I quipped, removing my hand from his forehead. He reached up and grasped it before I could do a full retreat.
"I suspected it all along. I knew you thought I was hot," he teased, opening his eyes.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey."
He chuckled softly before grimacing in pain again. "You ready for this?" he asked.
I wanted to tell the truth and say "hell no," but I nodded my head instead.
"It'll be a cakewalk," I said with false bravado.
"That's my girl," he said, looking at me proudly.
His trust in me was almost my undoing as I fought a new wave of panic. Who was I fooling? I wasn't a nurse. Hell, I hated to even watch doctor-related TV shows since they always made me squeamish. I’d take a horror movie any day because at least I knew all the blood and gore was fake.
Fighting back my panic, I lined up the supplies I would need. "I have to clean the wound first," I said, not looking at him as I handed the water bottle to him with shaky hands so he could unscrew the cap for me.
"Can you do this with your broken finger?" he asked, concerned.
"I plan on using my good hand as much as possible," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking as I prepared to pour the water over his leg.
"Kimberly," he said.
"Yeah?" I asked, finally looking at him.
"You got this," he said with the confidence I was lacking.
"I got this," I repeated, and then silently chanted it to myself over and over again as I kneeled in front of his leg. I turned the bottle slowly so only a little would pour out at a time. The clear liquid ran over his injury, washing away the majority of the blood and gore.
Mason let out a string of muffled curses that I willed myself to tune out as I continued to clean as much of the debris as I could from the oozing wound. When the bottle was empty, I leaned in close and saw the water had done a sufficient job. I tore one of the alcohol wipe packages open with my teeth and gently swabbed the ragged skin around the injury with it. Mason sucked in a gasping breath as I finished wiping down the injury. Without glancing at him, I reached down to tear away the denim that was holding on by only a few strands. Though I tried to limit jarring the leg as much as I could, I heard Mason release another string of curse words.
"Sorry," I mumbled, feeling wretched at the pain I was causing him.
"It's all good," he repeated in a voice that was lacking the same confidence from a few minutes ago.
I let out a small laugh. "How badly do you want to hit me?" I joked, finally looking at his ghost white face.
"Hit you? I want to kiss you," he said, humorlessly.
"Ha, yeah right."
"I'm not kidding. You don't think I know how tough this is for you. Hell, I'd have a hard time with it. You're my freaking hero right about now," he said through pale lips.
"We'll see how you feel after this next part," I teased, trying to keep the mood light, his words did touch me though.
"You got this," he repeated, closing his eyes as he clutched the raincoat that was bunched up around him.
Returning my focus to the task at hand, I rolled the bowling ball-size rock I had found and placed it as close to his left heel as I could get. The odd angle of his leg made it impossible to wrap the injury without the help of something to lift it off the ground for me. Grabbing his heel gently in my hands, I tried lifting his leg as carefully as possible.
"STOP," Mason yelled in a strangled voice.
I paused and waited for him to recover. "Ready?" I asked after several seconds had passed.
"No, wait, yes," he said, gritting his teeth.
Without giving him a chance to change his mind, I pivoted the leg over to rest on the rock.
Mason screamed again and then went silent. I grimaced when I saw he had passed out, but quickly realized it was probably for the best.
Using his unconscious state to my advantage, I placed the sticks on either side of his injured leg, evening the ends up with his heel. Once the sticks were in place, I unrolled the bandage and began the job of wrapping his leg. My finger made the job awkward, but I worked to keep the wrapping tight so his leg would have maximum stabilization. I left the area of the leg exposed where the bone stuck out. Wrapping it would do him more harm than good. By the time I finished, I had worked up quite a sweat. I tore off a piece of his raincoat that was hanging by a thread and draped it over his leg so it would keep the wrapping dry. Standing up stiffly, I looked down at his unconscious body for a second. That was the best I could do for him, I thought. As for myself, I still didn’t feel all that great. I walked several feet into the woods and vomited up the water I had consumed earlier.
Chapter 10
Mason was still unconscious when I made my way back to his side. I fought the temptation to curl up next to him and join him in slumber, but it was time to start phase two of my plan. Getting us under some kind of shelter was a must. During my hunt for sticks earlier, I spotted what looked like a small cave where a large section of rock was protruding from the side of the mountain. It would be a perfect location. The problem would be getting Mason there.
I wrapped my good hand with a piece of denim I had torn away from Mason’s jeans and began to break away the branches the surrounded his head. The rain made my work twice as hard since the branches were slippery, but at least the denim protected my hand from any rough edges. I worked diligently until I had cleared a sufficient path out of the bush.
"What are you doing, beach bunny?" Mason asked in a strained voice, startling me.
I turned to see him curiously studying me.
"Getting you to that dry bed you asked for," I joked. “You scared the crap out of me.”
"Sorry. That's sweet of you, but I don't see you being able to move me," he said seriously.
"Yeah, well, I didn't think I could do your leg and I did that," I said, sarcastically.
He let out a small laugh. "I'm not questioning your drive, but I'm no lightweight. How do you plan on moving all one hundred eighty pounds of me?" he asked.
"Well, if you must know, I'm dragging your ass."
He raised his eyebrows at me doubtfully, but didn't argue further.
"You ready?" I asked, standing up by his head. "Or do you plan on waiting for the bus."
"I'm all yours, beach bunny."
I reached down and grasped the hood of the raincoat that he was on, being careful to keep my injured finger out of the way. My grip was awkward, but still allowed me to get a good hold of the material with my hand.
"Ready?" I asked, looking down at him.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, bracing his good foot against the ground so he could help.
Pulling with all the strength I had, I managed to move him several inches before I had to take a break. He watched me with concern as I tried to regain my air supply. The thin mountain air definitely wasn’t helping. Once I had regained my breathing to a more manageable level, I began tugging the material again, using all of my weight to propel him up out of the bush. The momentum threw me off and I stumbled to the ground. I braced my fall with my left hand without thinking and cursed as excruciating pain rocketed throughout my arm.
"Kimberly?" Mason called from behind me.
"I'm fine," I gasped, waiting for the pain to subside as I kneeled on the ground.
"Let me see it," he pleaded.
Turning around, I held my finger out so he could inspect it. I had ignored it the majority of the day, treating it as more of a pain in the ass than anything else, but as he studied it, I took in the dark shade of black and blue that now made up the color on my middle digit.
"We need to brace this," he said softly, holding my injured hand tenderly in his.
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"It'll be fine. I want to get you into the shelter first and then we can worry about my dumb finger," I mumbled, embarrassed over the big deal he was making over my small break in light of his massive injury.
"You're not moving me until we brace it," he said stubbornly, leaving no room for argument.
"Fine, but you're the one who's getting soaking wet," I quipped, snapping a branch into two pieces for him.
"I need the gauze too, Einstein," he teased, looking tickled about my grumpiness.
"No shit, Sherlock," I shot back, already digging out the first aid box for the small roll of gauze tape I had seen.
He smirked at my snippy comeback. "Help me sit up," he said.
"Yes, your highness. Do you want me to fetch you some wine and cheese while I'm at it?"
He laughed outright. "You sure are sassy, beach bunny," he said, looking better than he had since I had found him.
I felt oddly lighthearted as he gently braced my finger. I had always been one to shy away from conflict, but sharing barbs with him had become almost comforting. Of course, the fact that our banter was more teasing now than outright hate, helped too.
"This is going to hurt," he said, looking at me.
"I know."
"No, I mean, it's really going to hurt. I'm going to set the bone."
"What?" I screeched, ripping my hand from his grasp.
"I'm going to set it," he answered calmly, but seriously.
"But how? You're not a doctor last time I checked," I stuttered out.
"Kimberly, I've taken multiple first aid classes and I've had to do this once or twice over the years."
"Really?" I doubted.
"Yeah, really, little Miss Doubtful. The nearest hospital is an hour and forty-five minutes away, in the foothills, so we’ve all had to learn more medical training than usual. Now give me your hand," he coaxed.
I reluctantly handed my hand over.
"Do you live near the ocean?" he asked out of the blue.
Kiss Kiss Page 63
