Moon Over Water by Debbie MacOmber

Author:Debbie MacOmber [Macomber, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Large type books, General, Contemporary, Fiction
ISBN: 9780786279937
Publisher: Thorndike Press
Published: 2005-12-08T00:00:00+00:00

Tucking it under one arm, she carried the pan of boiling water in both hands and returned to Jack.

Feeling relatively confident that no one was chasing them—it seemed unlikely, since she’d towed every boat in town—Lorraine shut off the engines. She stared in dismay at the bobbing dock and the string of boats. Actually, her lack of forethought had been a godsend. She’d inadvertently deprived their pursuers of any way to follow them. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as she leaned over the side and untied Scotch on Water, leaving the dock and its attached boats to drift away of their own accord.

When she’d finished, she readied Jack as much as possible and prepared herself for the coming ordeal.

“I’m going to check to see where the bullet is,” she told him, then explained that it might be necessary to leave it inside if she couldn’t remove it easily. Again she touched his face. For whatever reason, touching him comforted her and calmed her frazzled nerves. Her mouth was dry and her throat thick with fear.

As gently as possible, she lifted the blood-soaked towel from his left shoulder and poured a liberal dose of alcohol on the wound. Then, feeling she needed a bit of fortification herself, she took a deep swig and gasped. The scotch burned through her, but the jolt was exactly what she needed. She secured the top and set the bottle aside.

Inhaling a shaky breath, she studied Jack’s pale expressionless face. She tried to imagine what he’d say if he could speak to her. No doubt there’d be a few curses, an insult or two—and gruff reassurance. Biting her lower lip, Lorraine prayed for guidance and a sure hand.

The hot tweezers burned her skin, but she forced herself to grip them tightly, afraid they might slip. She dug carefully into the open wound. Blood gushed from his shoulder the instant she did. She dabbed it away with a folded towel. As she wiped the injury clean, she noted once more how raw and red the torn flesh looked. If he lived through this—and dammit, he would!—Jack was going to have an angry scar.

The tweezers scraped against the bullet, and just as she’d feared, it was buried deep in the flesh. Blood flowed more rapidly from the wound as soon as she pulled the tweezers away. Sweat beaded her brow. It soon became apparent that any attempt to extract the bullet would do more harm than good. He’d already lost a lot of blood.

“It’s going to be all right, Jack. I’m going to leave the bullet and pack the wound with a tampon because that’s the best I have in the way of medical supplies. I’m not going to let you die. Understand?”

Unexpectedly Jack moaned and rolled his head to one side. It seemed that, even unconscious, the man was going to argue with her.

“Don’t worry, you won’t get PMS.” Her laugh was mildly hysterical. He’d never know what she’d done, and that was just as well or she’d never hear the end of it.

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