Carolina Moon

blood, and more was dripping on the floor.
    “Here, on the table.”
    “I hit the brakes,” Piney muttered and stood back. “Swerved, but I clipped him anyway. I was heading into the hardware for some parts, and he come barreling out of the park right into the street.”
    “Do you know if you ran over him?”
    “Don’t think I did.” With trembling hands he pulled out a faded red bandanna and wiped his sweaty face. “Knocked him’s what I think, but it happened fast.”
    “Okay.” Wade grabbed toweling, and since Faith was standing beside him, he simply took her hands, pushed them onto the cloth. “Press down, hard. I want that bleeding under control. He’s in shock.”
    He yanked open the drug cabinet, grabbed a bottle to prepare a hypo. “You just hang in there, boy. Just hang on,” he murmured, as the dog began to stir and whimper. “Keep the pressure firm,” he ordered Faith. “I’m giving him a sedative. I need to check for internal injuries.”
    Her hands had shaken when he’d pressed them to the wound. She thought she’d seen straight down to the bone in the gash gaping down the dog’s back leg. And her stomach had flipped over.
    She wanted to snatch her hands away from all that blood, to rush out of the room. Why couldn’t Piney do it? Why couldn’t someone else be here? She started to say so, the words jumping into her throat. She could smell the blood, the antiseptic, and the sour stench of Piney’s panic sweat.
    But her gaze landed on Wade’s face.
    Cool, composed, strong. His eyes were flat with concentration, his mouth firmed into one determined line. She stared at him, breathing through her teeth. Watching him work, the quick efficiency of it, the focus, calmed her even as the dog went still again beneath her hands.
    “No broken ribs. I don’t think the wheel went over him. Might have a bruised kidney. We’ll deal with that later. Head wound’s pretty superficial. No blood in the ears. The leg’s the worst of it.”
    And that, he thought, was bad enough. Saving it, and the dog, was going to be tricky.
    “I need to move him into surgery.” He glanced back, saw that Piney had dropped into the chair and had his head on his knees. “I need your hands, Faith. I’m going to lift and carry him, you have to stay with me. Keep the pressure firm. He’s lost too much blood. Ready?”
    “Oh but, Wade, I—”
    “Let’s go.”
    She did what she was told because he left her no choice. She jogged beside him, fumbling for the door with her free hand. Bee sent up a joyful bark and ran between her feet.
    “Sit!” Wade said so sharply, Bee’s butt plopped obediently to the floor. The minute he’d laid the sedated dog down he grabbed a thick apron, tossed it to Faith. “Put that on. I’ve got to get pictures.”
    “Pictures.”
    “X rays. Go to his head. Hold him steady as you can.”
    The apron weighed like lead, but she dragged it on, did what she was told. Mongo’s eyes were slitted, but it seemed to her he was watching her, pleading with her to help.
    “It’s going to be all right, baby. Wade’s going to make everything all right. You’ll see.”
    The sound of her voice had Bee whining and scooting over to huddle by her feet.
    “Get rid of the apron now.” While he waited for the film to develop, Wade shot out orders. “Come back here and apply pressure again. Keep talking to him. Just let him hear your voice.”
    “Okay, all right. Um.” Swallowing what tasted like bile, she pressed the thick padding over the gash. “Wade’s going to fix you up just fine again. You … you have to look both ways before you cross the street. You remember that next time. Oh Wade, is he going to die?”
    “Not if I can help it.” He slapped the X rays onto a lighted panel, nodded grimly. “Not if I can help it,” he said again, and started gathering instruments.
    Sharp silver tools glinted in the hard overhead light. Her head seemed to circle in time with her stomach. “You’re going to operate? Now? Just like that?”
    “I have to try to save the leg.”
    “Save it? You mean—”
    “Just do what I say, and don’t think.”
    When he peeled back the compress, her stomach gave a nasty lurch, but he didn’t give her time to be sick.
    “You hold this, press this button here when I tell you I need suction. You can do that one-handed. When I need an instrument, I’ll describe it. Give it to me handle first. I’m going to knock him out now.”
    He lowered the light,