Wild Men of Alaska 02 - Moosed-Up

into that territory. Blood coated the side of his shirt.
    “Let’s go into the clinic,” she said, “and I’ll take a look at your injury.”
    “I do like an agreeable woman.”
    Agreeable? She couldn’t wait to go all psycho bitch on his ass. If he hurt Lynx, she’d do worse than that. First, she needed to get the gun out of her face.
    “Can you lower that thing?” she asked, as she backed up to the door that entered into the clinic.
    He sized her up and down again, and lowered the gun to his side, seeming to find her harmless.
    His mistake.
    She showed him into the exam room across the hall from where Lynx had removed her stitches. No way could she use the same room, not with the memories still floating around in there from the night before.
    “Get up on the table, and take off your shirt,” Eva said.
    He climbed up, setting the gun next to his hip and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. The man was packed with muscle, not as much muscle as Lynx, but enough to render her useless in a struggle. He winced as he pulled the bloody fabric loose from his left side.
    “Ooh, that’s nasty,” she said, carefully inching in for a closer look. Blood bubbled out from the wound. “I’m surprised you made it here without passing out.” Now there was a thought. She prayed he’d lost enough blood to do exactly that.
    “It’s fine. Just close it up.” He took his eyes off her to look at the wound, his skin paling.
    She reached for a drawer and the gun came up in her face lightning-quick.
    “What are you doing?” he asked.
    She had to swallow past the fear in her throat in order to respond. “Getting gloves and supplies so I can assess the situation.”
    The gun wavered, and then he dropped it back to the exam table. Was it getting heavy for him to hold?
    “Tell me everything you’re doing before you do it, and we’ll get along just fine.”
    “Okay. Just relax.” Stupid Neanderthal. She snapped gloves on, never happier than right now not having actual skin to skin contact with someone, and grabbed a handful of gauze pads. She held up the gauze for him to see before wiping blood from the wound for a better look.
    “Tell me how you got this wound.”
    “No.”
    Her eyes flicked to his. “You realize I need to know what happened so I can figure out the best way to treat you.”
    “Just patch me up and stop the pain.”
    She tightened her lips and examined the wound. She’d only seen a bullet wound once, but that was enough to know exactly what this was. She hoped to God, Lynx had been the one to shoot his sorry ass. But what if he’d gotten to Lynx first and he lay bleeding to death out there right now while she was wasting time nursing this guy?
    “Ouch! Watch what the hell you’re doing.”
    She jumped back when he’d hollered. “There is no exit wound.”
    “So.”
    “I know this is from a bullet. You need to go to the hospital.”
    “I’m not going to any fucking hospital.” His hand tightened on the gun, and he pointed it back at her, resting the butt of the weapon on his thigh. “Now fix me up.”
    Oh, she’d do that all right. “You want me to dig the bullet out, or sew you up with it still inside?”
    The direness of his situation finally dawned on him, and he swore.
    “You could have internal bleeding,” she said, piling on the bad news. “I’m not equipped for surgery here.”
    He swore some more. “I’m going to kill that fucking bastard.”
    Did that mean Lynx was still alive? Her heart swelled, and she had to glance away or chance revealing the rush of feelings coursing through her.
    “Can you tell where the bullet is?”
    She met his eyes. “It’s going to hurt if I probe in there, but I’ll be able to tell fairly quickly if it’s something I can treat or not.”
    He studied her for what felt like another endless night. “Do it.” He released a deep breath out of his nostrils.
    She placed gauze pads over the wound to help with the bleeding. “Here hold these in place, and could you put the gun somewhere else? I don’t want you to ‘accidently’ shoot me if I hurt you.” And she planned on hurting him.
    “Don’t hurt me, and I won’t shoot you.”
    “Seriously? What’s your name solider?” She’d recognized the marine tattoo. That seemed to get her somewhere with this redneck.
    “Pete.”
    “Okay, Pete. How about you let me give you an injection. I have locals here for stitches and such. Nothing stronger than that.” She lied when he went to shake his