Oooh, that hurt.Blood dripped down his arm as she started moving toward him. She got to the man. “Sit,” she ordered, snapping gloves on as she dropped to her knees in front of the rookie. “Let me see.”
The cut was deep but clean, no arterial bleeding. He tried to wave her off. “I’m fine, ma’am…”
“Congratulations,” she said, already irrigating the wound. “You’re bleeding neatly.” A shadow fell across her shoulder as Wyatt crouched beside her.
“Do you want pressure or stitches?”
She glanced up. He was watching her hands, not her face.Well, that’s a surprise.
“Stitches,” she said.
He nodded as the rookie opened his mouth. Wyatt growled. “Zip it. You’re bleeding all over your Salt & Steel uniform.”
“But…” The younger man cringed as Wyatt gave him an expression that stopped him cold. “Yes, sir.”
Letty worked efficiently, and as the rookie breathed easier, Wyatt didn’t flinch where her fingers brushed his as she reached for gauze.
Her gaze caught the rope burn scar again, confirming it was old, but once deep and angry. “That’s not a marina scar,” she murmured. “It’s not from paperwork, either.” She smiled as she returned her unused supplies to the bag. She retraced the edge of the scar with a light touch, more out of curiosity than intent, following the pale rope burn across his forearm as if tracing the story it left behind. The air changed as Wyatt stilled, but he didn’t pull away.
Ding. Her phone beeped in her pocket at the same time Wyatt’s comm crackled.
Cal’s voice came through Channel 16. “Stop flirting, Roper. You’re still on the clock.”
The rookie snorted as Letty froze, setting her phone back into her pocket.
Wyatt’s mouth curved, slow and dangerous. “Wasn’t flirting, sir.”
“Sure, you weren’t,” Cal said. “Eyes up.”
Heat crept up Letty’s neck as she finished the last stitch and leaned back. “You’re done. Light duty until the stitches come out.” She slapped a bandage onto the wound. “If I’m around, I can take those out as needed.”
The rookie opened and closed his fist. “Thanks, Doc.”
She shook her head. “I’m not that kind of doctor. I have a PhD in Disaster Science and Management.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“I’ve had considerable emergency training and experience, and I had a great teacher.” The image of her older sister, Livvy, came into her mind when they both volunteered for Hurricane Harvey.
Wyatt stood, eyes finally meeting hers. “So, blood doesn’t make you faint or anything?”
“I won’t faint,” she said with a grin. “I’m built for hurricanes, and you’re not that scary.”
His mouth twitched, and she wondered if he meant the disapproval he was expressing.
Cal directed personnel to the Salt & Steel headquarters at the boathouse for debriefing.
Ten minutes later, the group stopped talking as Letty and Cal stood in front of the diverse group. Volunteers, first responders, and Cal’s men focused on him as he spoke.
“Everyone will get a chance to offer feedback on the drill. Practice gives us the opportunity to save more lives when a real emergency happens.” He nodded. “And they do.” He changed his stance to turn his body toward the doctor. “Dr. Duval has some immediate feedback.”
Letty held her clipboard to her chest. “I haven’t seen this group in action before, so I don’t know if this response was typical. A single injury and only one piece of malfunctioning equipment led me to call this exercise a success. I would expect, however, that the next drill would be without injury or malfunction.” She looked at Cal, who nodded.
Letty lowered her clipboard and spoke, covering her observations as heads bobbed throughout the group. She summed up her comments as she held up her clipboard. “Justso we’re clear, this exercise is one of the best trainings I’ve evaluated.”
Cal thanked her, and she lifted her head as she walked by Wyatt.
WYATT
