Page 81 of His Saving Grace

He strode across the porch and yanked open the screen door. The kitchen door was still open. He swept the stuff on the kitchen table off with his arm and laid her on it, face down. She was soaked and shivering so badly her teeth chattered.

“Mason?” Her voice was cracked, frayed around the edges from the pain. She moaned softly and then her eyes fluttered closed.

“I’ll be right back.” He bent over and gently kissed her forehead. “Stay with me.” Whether that last bit was for her benefit or was a prayer thrown out to the universe, he couldn’t say.

He fumbled through the cabinet until he found the first aid kit. Grace’s breaths were getting shallow, starting to sound labored. Shit, shit, shit. It sounded like her lungs were compromised.

“Hey, baby?” He snapped open the case and sorted through the contents. “Talk to me.” He grabbed the gauze, tore open the packaging, and rushed back to her side.

She was still in the same position, her glassy eyes open, staring at nothing. Her breath had moved to wheezy. Panic lodged in his throat again, but he swallowed it down.

“Grace, talk to me.” Fear coated the command. He yanked her soggy t-shirt up and pressed the gauze over the wound.

She made a sound that was half strangled scream, half broken sob. His hands shook, but he didn’t release the pressure. After a few seconds, her breath evened out, and she turned her head to look at him. “Mason?”

“I know, baby. I know. You hang on, I’ll be back in a minute.” He bent down and placed a kiss on her forehead, and then ran to the linen closet and grabbed every blanket in there. Mama was just going to have to deal with a few bloodstains.

He skidded through the kitchen door. Simon was helping Jake hobble to one of the kitchen chairs. He turned to Grace. “How is she?”

Mason draped the blankets over her. His hands were still trembling. Later, later, he would fall apart, but not right now. Right now, he had to be strong. He slipped his hand under the blanket and pressed down on the wound again. “I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, at a loss for what to do. They needed help, but he didn’t want to leave her.

Her breathing was still too shallow, her skin waxy and pale. It freaked him out.

He leaned in close to her. “We’ll get you some help, okay? Just stay with me.” Her eyes fluttered closed. His anxiety spiked to astronomical levels.

“I’m sorry, Mase,” Jake said, snapping Mason’s attention his way. Jake had his head tilted back to stop the blood flow. His nose was definitely broken. His face was already starting to swell. “He head-butted me in the face and then booted me in the knee.”

“It’s all right.” Mason forced the useless emotions back under control. He turned to Simon. “Can’t you do something?”

“I’m a veterinarian, Mason, not a doctor. We need to get her to a hospital.”

Mason nodded. He grabbed her hand and squeezed. Her fingers were ice-cold. Fear rolled through him, making his panic surge. He tucked her hand under the covers. “Just… do something.”

Simon sighed and nodded, pressing his fingers against her throat. “Her pulse is weak. She has internal injuries. We need to get her out of here, soon.”

“I know.” Mason grabbed Simon’s hand and slid it under the blankets to press it over her wound. “Keep the pressure here.” He let go and ran his fingers through his wet hair.

“Umm, guys?”

Mason and Simon both turned to face Jake.

“That might be a bit of a problem.” Jake had hobbled over to the counter. He held the receiver of the phone from the landline in his hands. “Storm’s knocked out the phone lines.”

Mason swore and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. “Anyone got any bars?” The ranch was far enough outside of town that cell reception was spotty at the best of times. It was the reason his mother still had the house phone. Given the severity of the storm, there was little chance any of them would have enough bars to do anything. He glanced at his phone. No service. Simon and Jake both shook their heads. Fucking great.

Grace started wheezing again, and it was like a band tightened around his own chest. “Where’s Declan?” He stuffed the useless phone back in his pocket and brushed his fingers across her cheek. His touch seemed to calm her a degree, and he thought she breathed easier.

“Last time I talked to him, he was in town. That was before the storm broke, though.” Simon lifted the blanket. Blood soaked through the gauze.

The coppery tang kicked up his heart rate, and he broke out in a cold sweat. His panic broke through his death-grip, and he could almost feel the heat of the Afghan sun beating down on him again. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on breathing. He was home, he was safe, and he needed to stay focused. “We need to get her into town.”

He opened his eyes. Simon nodded absently, his gaze on the bloody gauze. “Yeah, this is way beyond my skill set.”

“Umm, guys.” The unease in Jake’s voice had him turning back to him. “We have another problem.”

Mason rubbed his eyes. What the hell now?

Jake turned up the volume on the battery-powered radio their mother kept on the kitchen counter. She liked to listen to the classical station while she baked. There was a crackle of static and then the newscaster’s voice came through.