“Ease up, old girl.” She pressed her forehead to the cool, wet wall of rock and sucked in deep breaths. “That sandwich cost you five quid. You don’t want to chunder it now, do you?” The thrum of the rushing water pounded all around, making her head feel like it swelled to the point of exploding every time she opened her eyes.
She had known it would be some noisier this close to the deluge, but she never expected this strange pressure closing in on all sides. She held her head, pressing the heels of her hands against her temples to keep everything in place. This was worse than any migraine ever.
“Dear God, maybe I’m having a stroke.” Bile burned the back of her throat, unleashing more nausea. “Or an aneurysm.” She patted her face, flexed both hands, then forced her eyes open. “You are being a hypochondriac, Eves. Just like that time in Afghanistan. Now suck it up, find the damn cat, and get the hell out of here.”
Waterfalls. Soon as she got back to London, she’d tell Maggie that the next time she wanted to help—don’t. She had rather they fired her than go through this. Jaws clenched, she forced herself to look to the left. Where was that stupid cat? Nowhere in sight. Probably scampered away and took off through the woods. Served her right for being so softhearted. Damn cat.
Inching sideways on her knees, she continued her journey. Her shaky balance took the possibility of standing off the table. “Keep moving,” she chanted to herself, focusing on getting to the opposite side. The churning disorientation seemed to ease, and her lunch remained in her stomach. Bloody miracle that was, but she accepted it with gladness.
When she emerged from the watery tunnel, she tumbled off the ledge and hugged the ground. Thank God. She made it. After several deep, calming breaths, she pushed herself up and looked around, praying there wasn’t a gaggle of tourists enjoying the show of some fool bumbling out from behind the falls.
Immediate uneasiness shoved away any lingering sheepishness. The surrounding woods seemed different somehow. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. After a hard blink and a rubbing of her eyes, she looked around again. It was so strange. The place was the same, but…not. She massaged her temples, inhaled deeply, then blew the air back out. Probably some silly residual trauma from almost tumbling into the water. How could it not be the same place?
Removing the plastic rain jacket, she shook it out while studying the area. The smattering of tourists annoying her on the main trail were gone. She knew she’d made her own path into the woods, but they should be somewhere close. At least within earshot. This area looked empty of hikers. Not just empty—deserted. She heard nothing other than the crashing water, occasional birdsong, or skittering through the leaves and bushes of some woodland creature. An eerie feeling took hold of her. It was if she was the last soul left on earth. A loud splash that didn’t fit the rhythmic sound of the falls drew her attention downward to the pool.
Instinct and years of training took over. Backpack in tow, she charged down the rise, praying the man still lived. He floated in the water, face down and arms outstretched. A dark, bloody cloud swirled around his head. After dropping her pack on the shore, she sloshed into the pond and turned him face up, thankful for the buoyancy of the water. Nothing small about this chap. Muscled like a bodybuilder, he was tall enough to pull thunder from the clouds.
“Bloody hell, they grow them big in Scotland.” A determined groan came clear from her toes as she dragged him up the bank. The wound on his head looked vicious, but her immediate concern was his breathing. If he drowned, the gash in the back of his head wouldn’t matter.
Wedging her knee behind his shoulders, she propped him on his side and pulled her bag closer. “Lucky for you, my fine fellow, I am mental about always being prepared.” She unzipped and laid open the pack. “I’ve got a complete emergency unit in here.” With the stethoscope she never left home without, she listened, pressing it in several spots across his broad back and muscular chest. “Got a bit of water in there, my friend, but at least you’re breathing, and your heart is strong. Let’s keep you on your side for a while, shall we? With any luck, you’ll cough it up in a bit.”
Out of habit, she popped the stethoscope out of her ears and looped it around the back of her neck before grabbing a rolled-up t-shirt. She placed it under his head, then positioned her pack behind him to keep him somewhat on his side. “Now, let’s check that head of yours.” Her peers at Finchcrest always teased her about keeping up a line of chatter with unconscious patients. But who knew? They might hear her and focus on living. She had developed the habit during her charity service abroad. Anything that helped a patient, no matter how odd or silly, always mattered.
As gently as possible, she parted the thickness of his dark mane that looked as though it reached past his shoulders. “Like your hair long, do you?” She went silent and frowned at the gash. It wasn’t as bad as she had first feared, but it needed sutures. Head wounds always bled like the dickens, even from the smallest nick.
However, this was not a split from diving and hitting a rock. A clean slice of a blade had split his flesh. From the early swelling at the upper end of the cut, whoever had done it either possessed poor aim or a weak swing. Instead of opening his skull, they’d hit him with a glancing blow and knocked the daylights out of him. “When you wake up, you’re in for one hell of a headache, my friend.” Even though the injury’s severity appeared less than she first assumed, the man needed to be airlifted to the hospital just to be on the safe side.
She found her phone, powered it up, then scowled at the screen. “Of course, there’s no service here.” All she could do was stabilize him and pray a hiker turned up. They could run for help. It was a fine summer’s day, and the place was busy enough. Surely, someone would be along soon.
“Well, let’s get that cleaned up, shall we?” She forced herself to use an uplifting tone, even though the delay in getting the man proper aid frustrated her. “Lucky for you, I nicked a bottle of povidone-iodine for my trip.” Wearing the gloves also liberated from the hospital’s supply room, she washed the wound with the golden-brown liquid. Once satisfied with the emergency disinfection, she sutured the gash. “Just temporary stitches to keep you nice and clean, my friend.” After padding it with an antimicrobial dressing, she wrapped gauze around his head and secured it with cloth tape. Proud of her handiwork, she smiled. “Aren’t you glad I’m quite the thief when it comes to keeping my emergency supplies stocked?”
A second glance at the serene surroundings compounded her anxiousness to get the man more help. Still no tourists. Several vehicles had sat in the car park when she arrived. Yet no one came upon them? When she returned her stethoscope to the bag, her penlight peeping out of its slot caught her attention. Might as well do a more thorough exam while she waited.
Evie knelt in front of him, eased open one of his eyes, and flashed the light. “What glorious eyes you have, sir.” She checked the other one. “So brown they’re almost black.” Both pupils dilated at the same rate. That consoled her somewhat, but he still needed more care than she or her backpack provided. She sat back on her heels and frowned down at him. “What am I going to do with you ’til help comes?”
For the first time since pulling him out of the water, she noticed his odd clothing. “What’s this garb you’re wearing? Are you a re-enactor or something?” His linen tunic, almost transparent from its soaking, reached to mid-thigh of the snug black pants he wore tucked into knee-high leather boots. “It’s a wonder those boots didn’t drag you to the bottom of the pool.” That’s probably what his attacker intended. This would be a perfect place for hiding a body. Luckily for this brown-eyed hulk, he’d hit the water at a shallow spot and stayed afloat.
She leaned forward and dried his face with the tail of her t-shirt. “You’ve been in scrapes before, haven’t you?” A thin silvery scar split one of his sleek black brows, and a smaller one ran up the side of his chin. “I wish I had your lashes.” She pressed the backs of her fingers against his cheek and smiled. A little warm, but not too bad. And very striking in a handsome, squared-jaw sort of way. An additional scar at the base of his throat caught her eye, making her pull open the loose neck of his tunic and glance at his chest. “Poor man, you’ve been through it. Are you in the military?” What else would explain all those scars?
He jerked and kicked, rolling toward her with uncontrollable choking.
She sprang into action, supporting his head and shoulders as he lunged forward, coughing and spewing out the water she’d heard sloshing around inside him. “Well done, you!” she praised, thumping her fist between his shoulder blades to keep the fluid moving outward. “That’s it. Bring it up. All of it now.”
“God’s beard!” He yanked away from her and rolled back, baring his straight white teeth as he clutched his head.
“So, you are a Scot.” She caught hold of his prying fingers as he discovered the bandage wrapped around his head. “Leave that be, now. You’ve a nasty wound we need to keep clean until we get you transferred.”
“Transferred?” he repeated, flinching as he eased back down onto the rolled shirt. He cracked an eye open and sneered up at her. “I willna go without a fight.”
Lovely. He’d lost the plot because of the blow to his head. She hated when patients got combative but wasn’t surprised. Especially not with this type of injury. Someone had obviously attacked him. “I would never assume you would go anywhere you did not wish to go.” Experience had taught her that agreeing with them sometimes helped.
“Where are they?” he growled, still glaring at her as if she had been the one who axed him.
“Who?”
“Yer men.”
This one was turning into quite the challenging puzzle. She shook her head and flipped a hand at the surrounding woods. “Look around. I have no men.” Then she smiled. “It’s just you and me. I promise.”
