by Becca Van
With one last lingering glance, Law left the bedroom with every intention of shooting all the bastards hiding around their ranch so he could keep his woman safe.
Chapter Nine
Tabby must have dozed off for a while because when she opened her eyes the light in the room had changed. She stretched out her body and winced when unused muscles protested, but then she smiled as she remembered how she had been made love to by each of her men.
She had felt so connected to them when they had made love to her, and not just on a physical level. She’d felt them in her heart, too, it had been really hard not to blurt out the L word as each of them had pleasured her, but she wanted to wait to tell them how she felt until after she knew they would all be safe.
She pushed the sheet and covers aside and got dressed. After brushing her hair and teeth, she walked out of the room and hesitated in the door of the living room. She didn’t want to distract her men from their job, but she also felt the need to be close to them. When she caught movement in the doorway to the kitchen, she glanced that way and saw Sara peeking at her men. Sara then looked her way and wiggled her eyebrows as if she knew what Tabby had been up to. Tabby had to bite her tongue so she wouldn’t laugh. Sara smiled at her and beckoned with her hand, and after giving her men a lingering glance, Tabby hurried to the kitchen.
“Hi, Tabby, are you all right?” Sara asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Tabby looked at the Prue, Nicole, and May and then back to Sara again.
“Are you all okay?”
“Yes,” all the women answered together and smiled at her.
“We were really scared, but other than that we’re all fine,” Sara said. “Since we can’t make a sit-down meal, we’re making sandwiches and coffee for the men. Do you want to help?”
“I’d love to.” Tabby walked over to the kitchen counter and met May’s gaze. “What do you want me to do?”
“Why don’t you start by slicing up those tomatoes?” May pointed to the basket on the counter. “After that you can peel and grate some carrots.”
Tabby washed and sliced each fruit and put them in the large bowl set aside. Once that was done she started on the carrots. Sara was working beside Tabby, peeling and slicing cucumber. Nicole was on the other side of the counter grating raw beetroot, and May and Nicole were laying out slices of bread and smearing mayonnaise onto them.
“Do you think those men with the guns will come back?” Tabby asked but kept her eyes on the carrot she was grating.
“As much as I hate to say it, yes,” Sara answered.
Tabby shuddered and then looked up when she felt a hand on her forearm.
“The men will do everything they can to protect us,” Prue said and gave her a tentative smile, but Tabby could see the worry in the depths of her eyes and knew what her new friend was doing. She was trying to keep her fear at bay and stay positive for the Elite Dragoons team.
The women finished making the sandwiches, and then they poured the coffee, loaded trays with food and drink, and began to carry them to where the men were keeping watch. Tabby hurried over to her men, and they thanked her before taking the plates and cups from the tray. She headed back to the kitchen to help clean up and then sat down at the counter with the other women to eat their own sandwiches. Just as Tabby put the last bite in her mouth, gunfire exploded around them.
“Get down,” one of the men yelled, and Tabby slid from the stool onto the floor and curled up into a little ball. She was closest to the outside wall of the house and needed to make herself as small a target as possible. She didn’t want to be shot, or the other women. Plaster rained down onto her as the bullets flew, and she prayed that all the men didn’t get hurt either.
Her adrenaline was running high. The hormone raced through her blood with every rapid beat of her heart, and she had the urge to pick up a gun and help the men fight back. But there was no weapon nearby, and if she moved she could get shot. Tabby felt a sting on the outside of her upper thigh but ignored it, thinking it was probably a chunk of plaster or wood that had come through the wall. She lifted her head slightly to make sure all the women were okay and then glanced toward the sliding glass door where the men were returning fire from, and was relieved to see they weren’t hurt. The gunfire seemed to last forever, but after glancing at her watch she saw that it had only been ten minutes. It had been the longest ten minutes of her life.
The damage to the house was terrible. There were holes in the wall, and the glass from the sliding doors had been shattered. There was nothing to stop bullets from whizzing inside if the men attacked again.
Whit came hurrying into the kitchen. “Is everyone all right? Did anyone get hurt?” His gaze landed on Sara, and then he scanned everyone else.
“Jeezus, fucking hell. Dalton,” Whit bellowed, and then he was racing toward Tabby.
Tabby pushed herself up into a sitting position and then tried to scurry away from him. The look on his face was so fierce he was scaring her.
“Cal, get your ass in here now.” Whit squatted down next to Tabby and stared down at her leg. When he reached out to touch her, she slapped his hand away. “Take it easy, honey. I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to see where you’re injured.”
“What?” Tabby asked, and then she looked down. When she saw all the blood on her thigh and the floor beneath her, the sight seemed to kick in her pain receptors. White-hot agony ran through her leg, making her gasp. Whit placed his hand over her thigh and pressed down hard. Tabby whimpered and tried to move away, but he gripped her arm and held her in place.
“Sara, get me some clean dish towels,” Whit ordered.
“Oh my God.” Prue covered her mouth and stared at Tabby in horror.
Nicole was sitting right next to her and took her free hand in hers. “Squeeze my hand.”
Tabby clutched at Nicole’s hand as Whit applied more pressure and hoped she wasn’t hurting the other woman.
Cal came racing into the room, and he blanched. Fletch and Law were right behind him.
“Shit,” Cal gently nudged Nicole aside and took her place next to Tabby. “Where is Dalton? I can feel her pain through my shield.”
“I’m here,” Dalton said as he took over from Whit. “We can all feel her pain.”
Dalton opened his medical bag and removed an empty syringe. After tearing it from its packaging, he pulled a vial of medicine out, plunged the tip of the needle into the bottle, and half-filled the needle. “Cut her jeans open.” Dalton glanced at Whit.
Whit dug into Dalton’s bag and came up with a small pair of scissors then began cutting her jeans away. The pain was getting more intense, and Tabby was beginning to feel sick. She groaned when Whit’s hand brushed against her thigh.
“Sorry, Tabby, but Dalton needs to see to help you. I’ll try not to hurt you.”
Tabby nodded her head, closed her eyes, and gritted her teeth. She was panting and sweating as if she’d just been on a long run. When she felt the material of her jeans fall away, she looked down and then wished she hadn’t. There was a hole in the outside of her thigh, and blood was trickling out at a steady pace.
“Take a deep breath and look at Cal, Tabby,” Dalton commanded.
Tabby took a deep breath and squeezed Cal’s hand hard when she felt the needle slide into her wound. Stars formed before her eyes, and she began to sway. Her stomach roiled, and she swallowed, hoping to keep the bile rising up from erupting from her mouth. The pain was nearly more than she could stand.
“Okay, I’m done. I’m sorry I hurt you, Tabby.” Dalton took the towels from Sara, placed them on her leg, and pressed down hard. “I need to slow the bleeding. The local anesthetic I gave you should start working soon.”
Tabby nodded and felt a bead of sweat roll down her face.
“I’d really liked to get her flown out of here and to a hospital,” Dalton said.
“You know we can’t risk that, Dalt.” Whit sighed in frustration and scrubbed a hand over his face. “We’
d be putting the helicopter crew in the line of fire. You’re going to have to fix her up.”
“We need to move her to the infirmary. At least if it’s not too shot-up. The only other place that I could work that would be safe is the hallway, but there isn’t enough light there.”
“We can bring in more light to the hall if we can’t go to the infirmary.” Fletch got to his feet from his crouched position beside Cal. “I’ll check out the infirmary, before we decide. Since it isn’t on an outside wall, hopefully it won’t be too bad.”
“Is your leg going numb yet, love?” Law was behind Dalton and had been watching everything the team medic was doing to her, but he met her eyes when he asked his question.
“Yes.” Tabby sighed with relief. “I can hardly feel anything.”
Fletch came striding over and nodded at Dalton when he looked at him. “The infirmary is fine. There are a couple of bullet holes in the wall, but none of the equipment was touched.”
“Thank God.” Dalton looked at Cal. “Can you carry her? I’m going to walk right beside you while I keep pressure on her leg.”
Cal released her hand then moved his arm around her shoulders and somehow managed to get his other arm under her ass. He lifted her a few inches from the floor and got her out from beneath the counter. Dalton didn’t remove his hands from her thigh. Cal finally lifted her up into his arms and began to walk toward the infirmary with Dalton at his side.
Tabby was beginning to feel woozy and wondered if she was losing too much blood. Cal and Dalton had to squeeze through the doorway to the infirmary, and then Cal placed her on the exam table.
“Put your hands on her leg and press down as hard as you can. I need to scrub up.”
Just as Dalton moved away and began washing his hands thoroughly, Fletcher and Law hurried into the room.
“How are you feeling, love?” Fletch asked as he walked over to the side of the exam table.
“Good.” Tabby wondered if that was really her voice. It sounded weak and so far away.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’m going to need all the help I can get.” Dalton had finished washing his hands and pulled on some surgical gloves as he moved closer to the bed. He began giving orders that Fletch and Law followed while Cal continued to hold her leg. She was becoming very drowsy and was having trouble concentrating on the conversations going on around her. Her eyelids were heavy, and it was a struggle to keep them open. And she was so damn cold she was shivering.
Tabby blinked when a mask was placed over her nose and mouth, and wondered if she dozed off for a second or two, but when she couldn’t open her eyes again, she gave up the fight and sank into oblivion.
* * * *
“She’s asleep.” Law clenched his teeth hard and was scared for Tabby. She looked so damn pale and had lost a lot of blood. He glanced at the monitor that showed her oxygen level and her blood pressure and told Dalton the numbers. Thank God they had Dalton as their medic. He had enough training to fix and care for Tabby since they couldn’t get her to the hospital.
Fletcher was leaning against the wall just inside the infirmary door, but he’d also scrubbed up and put on surgical gloves. His brother made sure his hands didn’t touch anything in case Dalton needed help. Dalton inserted an IV into her hand, covered the metal tip with gauze, and taped it onto Tabby’s skin. Dalton glanced over at Fletcher and nodded his head to get his brother to his side.
There was a small, high trolley between them with sterilized, cloth-covered instruments on the tray.
“Okay, listen and do everything I say.” Dalton glanced at Law, Fletcher, and then to Cal, before meeting Fletcher’s gaze again. “Uncover the equipment.”
Fletch flipped the cloth over and shuddered when he saw all the tools.
“I want you to scrub up and put some gloves on, too, Cal. I may need you to help out as well.”
Cal gulped audibly but nodded and walked over to the sink to do as Dalton said. Law looked at the monitor and called the numbers out. He then turned back to stare down at Tabby’s stark-white face. She looked so damn vulnerable and fragile, and he was scared she wouldn’t make it. He took a deep breath and pushed those negative thoughts aside. Now was the time to think positively and pray to God their woman made it through the surgery. The bullet was still lodged in her thigh, and Dalton had to operate to get it out.
“Law, see that knob on the large canister?” Law turned and looked to where Dalt pointed and then nodded. “Good, I want you to turn it full rotation three times.” Law did as asked and heard a louder hiss as more air flowed into Tabby’s mask.
“What is it?” Law’s voice cracked on the last word.
“Don’t panic. I need you guys to keep it together.” Dalton looked up, and he nodded again. “It’s just more oxygen. I’ve already injected the general anesthetic into her hand. Okay, here we go. Law, call out her numbers to me every five minutes. Fletcher, hand me the sponges so I can clean this blood away and then pour that antiseptic on some clean sponges.”
Law, Fletcher, and Cal did everything Dalton asked, and Law tried not to flinch when Dalton took the scalpel from Fletch and cut into Tabby’s thigh. “I need more sponges.”
Fletch handed Dalton the sponges and after Dalton placed them indicated for Fletch to hold them to soak up Tabby’s blood.
“Cal, come around my other side and behind the trolley. I need you to hand me those big tweezers.”
Cal did what Dalt said and handed him the tweezers. Dalton worked quietly but efficiently and, after what seemed like forever, pulled the bullet from Tabby’s wound. “Remove those soaked sponges and get clean ones ready.”
Fletch took the sponges away, and Dalton irrigated Tabby’s wound with liquid. Law thought it was probably saline solution but didn’t want to distract Dalton by asking.
“Tell me,” Dalton said as he picked up a needle and thread that he’d set up earlier.
Law glanced at the screen and told Dalton the numbers. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t say anything, just started sewing up something inside Tabby.
“Cal, in the small fridge under the bench over there are bags of blood and plasma. I want you to get out a bag of the yellowy-looking liquid and bring it over here. Hook it up to the drip stand so it’s ready for me.”
Cal moved off, and by the time he came back, Dalton had finished stitching up Tabby inside and was pulling the flesh of her thigh together. A loud beep sounded, and Dalton cursed.
“Law, grab the paddles off the wall and flick the switch.”
Law turned and gulped when he realized that Dalton was asking him for the defibrillator, but did as he was asked. Dalt started stitching closed Tabby’s thigh.
“Cal, grab the plastic tube on the tray and connect it to that bag of plasma.”
“Done,” Cal said, and even Law could hear the fear in his brother’s voice.
Dalton glanced up and nodded then went back to stitching Tabby. Another beep sounded. “Numbers.”
Law rattled off the numbers.
“Fuck!” Dalton snarled. He finished with the sutures, ripped his bloody gloves off, and hurried to the sink. After scrubbing his hands, he ordered Cal to help him get new gloves on, and then he took the end of the tube and inserted another IV needle into Tabby’s other hand. After taping it to her skin and checking the drips, he looked at Law but started barking orders at Cal.
“Cut all her clothes off quickly.”
Cal’s hands were shaking as he cut all of Tabby’s clothes away, but he did as he was told. “Give me those paddles and stand back.”
Just as Dalton said that, the machines started going haywire. Beeps and screeches permeated the small room. Dalton applied the paddles to Tabby’s chest, yelled “clear,” and pushed a button.
Tabby’s body jerked up from the table, but the alarms didn’t stop. “Law, turn the knob two more times.”
Law’s heart nearly stopped in his chest. He glanced at the monitor and saw the flat line where Tabby’s heartbeat had b
een. His knees nearly buckled, but he locked them to keep himself standing upright. His chest was aching, but he kept his gaze between Tabby and the screen and kept calling out the numbers in a shaking voice. But all the while inside he prayed to God to let Tabby live.
Dalton hit Tabby with the paddles twice more, and when Law saw her heartbeat once more going across the screen, he exhaled and then drew in a deep breath. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it.
“Okay, flick that switch again, Law.”
Law saw his hand shaking when he reached out and flicked the switch. When he turned back, Dalton handed him the paddles and he hung them back up on the wall.
“Read me the numbers again.”
Law called them out and then turned the oxygen down slowly, as directed by Dalton.
“That was close.” Dalton began to clean up with Cal and Fletcher’s help. By the time everything was packed away, Law was emotionally exhausted, and from the haggard appearance of his brothers’ faces, so were they. “You did great, guys. I wouldn’t have been able to save her without you.”
Dalton washed all the instruments and then put them in the sterilizer. He scrubbed his hands again then donned another pair of surgical gloves. He put some ointment on Tabby’s stitches and then covered them with gauze and a bandage. After changing the now-empty bag of plasma to a full one, he covered Tabby with several blankets.
“I’m going to stay with her and I’m sure you all want to, too, but Whit is going to need you out there. You can take it in turns and come sit with her. I promise to let you know if there is any change.”
Cal cleared his throat. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” Dalton said. “She lost too much blood. The bullet nicked an artery and I had to stitch it up, but you’ll be pleased to know it didn’t hit any bone.”
“Have you ever…” Law swept his hand out when his voice failed him.