She should have tried harder to lever him into the bed, but the mattress was on a high bunk, and her strength was nearly gone. Instead, she’d dragged him into the motor home and rolled him onto the cushion she’d pulled from the bench seat next to the tiny kitchen table. The agonizing process seemed endless, but she’d persevered, inch by inch, and the effort had warmed her some. He didn’t really fit, but at least he was off the cold floor. Once more she prayed, then tucked the blanket tighter around him, willing her fingers to function.
“Please, Gideon,” she entreated. “Open your eyes.” He was still, pale, battered, and bruised. All the pain she could accept for herself—the catastrophic events, the personal consequences of her choices—but if Gideon didn’t survive ... she wasn’t sure she could withstand it.
She chafed his hands.
He twitched, and her pulse raced. She leaned close. “Gideon?”
One eyelid cracked open, and she held back a sob of relief.Thank you, God.She pulled the blanket up to his chin and held her breath as he fought his way back to consciousness while she rubbed his tremoring shoulders.
“Hey, tough guy.” Her voice broke. “You decided to wake up now that the hard work’s done?”
Gideon blinked and opened the other eye, taking in her, the ceiling. “Where are we?”
At hearing him speak, her joy was almost too much to bear. Somehow she managed to answer. “In the most luxurious 1970s RV you ever did see.”
He blinked some more, his voice a hoarse rasp. “You’re going to need to fill in the gaps for me, Zee.”
“Right before you passed out, I told you I saw a cabin, remember?”
He shook his head and winced. “Nah.”
“Well, I was right about the cabin, but it’s locked up tight and there are storm shutters, so I couldn’t get in. The occupants left their old RV in the side yard unlocked, though. Fortunately, it’s in a bit of a high spot, but I don’t think we’ll stay dry for long. Water’s mid-wheel right now.”
Gideon’s expression was still befuddled. “But ... how?”
She knew what he was driving at. “How did we get here? I dragged you. You might want to lay off the praying mantis, by the way. It wasn’t easy. I used that horrible poncho as a kind of a sled. You aren’t the only one with skills.” Her comic twist covered the fact that it had beena brutal effort, and her body still sang with pain. But he was alive. Praise God, he was alive.
He tried to sit up, startling her, and immediately clamped a hand to his side and groaned.
“Stay still, would you? I’m no nurse and I can’t guarantee my first aid will stop the bleeding for long if you knock everything loose.” She checked the bandage, which was showing minimal signs of seepage. “The bullet grazed your ribs. Shallow, much better than lodging in your innards.”
“Excellent.”
“Yes.” So excellent. An inch in the other direction ... She shivered, her blood demanding warmth. “I’m going to try and hot-wire this thing and get the heater running. It’s almost dark. Al and Jerry might have seen us bob up too, so double the urgency.”
He sighed. “If we get out of this mess, we’re going to have to explain our auto theft at some point.”
“I memorized the address on the mailbox. I’ll contact them and make restitution for taking the RV.”
“Your second crime since you’ve hit town,” he teased.
“Just have to hope they’ll be understanding. Kevin says the locals look after each other ... unless they’re working for Bullseye.”
He nodded. “I’ll help with any restitution. Who knows? We might become the joint owners of this fine rig if they don’t want it back.” The quip didn’t cover the pain in his expression. He was hurting, and they both needed warmth immediately.
She didn’t want to leave him lying on the orange Naugahyde cushion. She wanted to hug him close and tell himhow scared she’d been when he collapsed—almost paralyzed, in fact. The adrenaline from moving him was ebbing away, and she felt as if her heart was about to cease pumping altogether.
She walked unsteadily to the console and eased onto the driver’s seat, where the stuffing showed through a crack in the vinyl. Her hands were tremoring, and she attempted to squeeze her fingers into fists, but they would not obey. She shoved them under her armpits to try to restore some circulation.
Gideon squirmed. “I’m getting up.”
“No. Just stay there, and I’ll—”
He wriggled and finally sat up.
“Not going to do what you’re told?” she said.
“Astonishing, right? Usually that’s your MO.” He rubbed his eyes and stared at his bare feet. She’d yanked off his boots and wet socks after she deposited him. “Am I looking at orange shag carpet?”
