Barefoot Bay: Silhouettes on the Sand (Kindle Worlds Novella) (13 page)

With both his aging grandparents in the car, Chase pulled into the handicapped spot. Engine running, he hopped out to open his grandmother's door, and C.J. went for the Colonel's. Chase didn't know if the Colonel recognized her stance or not, but now Chase realized she tended to stand at what he believed to be parade rest. Straight, steady, and ready to spring into action. A watchful eye on the old man, insistent on exiting the car unassisted, C.J. was prepared to step in if needed.

Focusing on his grandmother's slower steps as they circled the car, Chase almost didn't hear the unusually loud rumble of an engine. Not until he heard C.J.'s voice scream, "Incoming," did he look up to see C.J. curled around her grandfather, her back to a full-size black sedan speeding down from between the rows of parked cars and flying past them.

The crackle of shattering glass echoed around them, immediately followed by crunching and crashing noises and one blood-curdling scream.

C.J. had taken off running at a full gallop, Chase only inches behind her.

The once beautiful lobby was covered in dust, broken glass, cracked woodwork, two-by-fours, Sheetrock. The place looked like a junkyard. Except for the shaken people, huddled together for protection from the unknown assault. Tears, prayers, and cries of pain transported C.J. across the world to a time and place where destruction and death were an everyday part of her life.

Physically shaking away the images, she did a fast scan, seeking out the area of impact and the most likely place to find the worst casualties, her heartrate easing with every person who stood unharmed and shook off the dust. A tall man C.J. didn't recognize leaned into the open door of the mangled vehicle shaking his head. The driver was dead. Moving quickly C.J. continued seeking out the injured.

"What the hell?" One of the Ivory brothers came running in the open space that used to be a wall.

"Head wound," she called out over a young man, sitting, knees up, staring blankly at the room, a tiny stream of blood slowly making its way down his cheek. "Medic!" she yelled unthinking, quickly bending down for a better look before realizing there would be no medic to help.

Chase knelt down beside her. "What do you need?"

After a quick assessment of the bleeding wound, she looked at Chase. "Superficial. Pressure will be fine till help arrives."

Mitch Ivory came running over. "I'll take care of this."

C.J. pushed to her feet, working her way at a brisk trot to the registration desk, where the car had come to a forced stop, thankful for minimum casualties. Bruises and broken bones she could deal with. And then she saw it. The growing red blotch on a dusty gray canvas. Running, she skidded to a stop at the limp body near the runaway vehicle.

Siobhan.

The pool of blood on her thigh grew. Fast. Too fast. The femoral artery.
Shit
. Whipping off her blouse C.J. placed the top over the life-threatening gash and leaned with all her weight on the injured leg, turning to whoever stood to her side in men’s dress shoes. "Give me your tie. Now." With both hands pressed hard against the still-gushing wound, she looked to the tan trousers on her other side. "Get down here. Press here as hard as you can. I need to get a tourniquet on this leg fast."

Chase knelt down beside her. "Like this?"

His hands covered hers, and she wished for a split second that she could use the electricity that always sparked between them to cauterize the wound. Damn, this sucked. "Yes. Like that."

A brown tie now dangled in front of her. As fast as her fingers could work, she wrapped it around the teen's thigh, twisted it tightly against the wound, inserted a nearby splintered piece of wood, then twisted it even tighter before tying a knot. She had to stop the circulation completely. C.J. prayed losing the teen’s leg wouldn't be the price of saving Siobhan’s life.

To no one in particular C.J. called out, "I need something to raise her feet. Pillows, cushions, anything. She’s going into shock.” Siobhan was still losing blood at an alarming rate, and it was vital to get what blood she did have left going to the brain and major organs instead of to her extremities. "What's the ETA on an ambulance?"

Nate held up his phone. "Not happening. A tractor-trailer overturned on the causeway. The only ambulance in town is on that accident scene. The road is blocked. No one from the mainland can get in or out. I've got the helicopter on
N'Vidrio
coming this way."

A couple of large pillows in expensive Egyptian cotton were shoved at her. She recognized the intense Ivory gaze. Another brother. "Thanks."

Still on her knees she placed both pillows under the youngest Ivory sister's feet. The kid was going deeper into shock. She'd lost too much blood already.
Damn it.

She needed the bird here
now
before time ran out on the leg. Scanning quickly for more injuries on the teen, her attention landed on Siobhan's face. Her lips were turning blue.
Crap
. C.J. pinched off the girl’s nose and tilted back her head before giving her two quick breaths, sealing Siobhan's lips with her own.

The expected rush of air didn't come—no chest movement.
Shit. She's obstructed
. Facing the surrounding crowd, C.J. needed help. Fast. "I need a knife. Some kind of narrow tube—a pen, a straw."

People around her dispersed in the quiet chaos. All she heard was a muffled chorus of "I'm on that," tumbling over "In my bag" and "Be right back." The
be right back
better be fast as hell, or she would lose this sweet kid.

Rubble shifted beside her as a disposable cup with a straw was thrust in her face. "Does it matter if I drank from it?"

"No." She snatched the straw. "I'll need tape too. And alcohol. Any kind, I don't care. Booze will do."

More items began appearing before her. A hunting knife. Packing tape. No alcohol. "Anyone got a match or lighter?" What had been no more than a few seconds felt like a damn eternity. Siobhan’s lips had turned a darker shade of blue.
Stay with me, Siobhan.
C.J. hadn’t come thousands of miles to still send kids home in a body bag
or
in parts.

A red Bic dangled in front of her, and she heard a scolding female voice huff, "Arthur, you promised to quit," followed by the immediate response of "Aren't you glad I didn't?" The pissed-off woman had no comeback, but, right about now, C.J. was damn happy about it, because, so far, the knife tip would be the only damn thing even close to sterile.

Heavy footsteps stomped from behind. "Here's some Jack Daniel’s."

"Thanks." She had no idea who she was thanking. Grabbing the bottle, she dumped half of it over the knife blade and her patient's neck, then located the cricoid cartilage, and made a horizontal incision in Siobhan’s neck. Quickly she sliced the straw in half and inserted it into the incision. At the swoosh of air, instant hope pulsed through C.J.’s veins. She wasn't a surgeon, and this wasn't a sterile OR, but at least bombs weren’t blowing up around them. She'd worked in worse conditions than this to stabilize the patient.
The golden hour
. God, how she hated that. The small window to save lives until they could be sent somewhere and patched up right.

Confident the trach tube worked well enough for now, C.J. checked the injured leg again. The bleeding had stopped. So had the circulation. They were running out of time to save the leg. Where the hell was that helo?

* * *

The longer Chase waited in the emergency room with his immediate family, the more fear and panic slowly gave way to hope. He and C.J. had arrived with Siobhan. C.J. hadn't said anything during the flight, but he knew from the look in her eyes that she was worried. The helicopter made additional trips to bring his siblings and grandparents. The cousins waited at the resort. Once the causeway was cleared, he knew the remainder of the Ivory clan would come. The Colonel may have been a hard ass most of their lives, but he made sure every Ivory understood that family was the secret weapon in the war on life.

The double doors opened, and C.J. walked out of the emergency area, dressed in clean scrubs.

"They gave me something clean to wear," she explained.

Chase nodded. "You were amazing."

Blinking a few times, she surprised him by stepping up and dropping her forehead on his shoulder.

Circling her in his arms, Chase ran his fingers through her hair. He didn't know what to say. Or if he should even speak at all. But holding her felt right. To anyone else it might look like he was the one offering her strength and comfort, when, in truth, having her in his arms gave him the strength he needed. Not until this very second did he realize how badly he'd shortchanged himself in life. Was it possible to fall in love with someone in only a few days? To know so little about them and yet feel as though he knew everything he needed to know?

C.J. shifted in place, turning her cheek to rest against his heartbeat, winding her arms around him.

Oh, yeah. This was definitely the big
L
. There were very few things he was sure of in life. Death, which he hoped to God they wouldn't experience today. Taxes. And standing here, breathing as one with C.J., he was sure he could never go back to the way his life was before. C. J. Lawson was meant to be his. Now all he had to do was convince her of that.

C.J. had no idea how much time had passed since Siobhan had been wheeled to the OR and when C.J. had then settled in the safety of Chase's embrace. He'd held her quietly until finally suggesting they sit down. Still hanging on to him with one arm, they moved as one to the waiting room chairs, and, once seated, she'd laid her head on his shoulder, and he kept an arm draped possessively around her. No one spoke. The proverbial pin could have been heard falling to the tile floor.

At least Siobhan had been alive when they’d arrived—barely, but alive. That was something. And now C.J. clung to the old adage:
no news is good news
. If the doctors lost Siobhan in surgery, someone would have come out to speak to them by now. If Siobhan was still hanging on, then she was strong enough to get through this. Of that C.J. was sure. The question tearing at her again and again was, had she done enough? Would Siobhan keep her leg?

And then C.J. felt it. The tender touch of Chase's lips to the top of her head. Not a sexual touch like last night's heated kiss but rather a gesture of comfort. Almost as if he knew she was heading down the slippery road of self-doubt and needed uplifting. The simple kiss made her feel totally and completely cared for. Cherished. Loved. And she liked it. A whole lot. More than she should, because, like it or not, negotiated or not, C.J. was falling in love with Chase Ivory.

"Colonel Ivory?" a man asked, and C.J. lifted her gaze and noticed the others were already standing, waiting to hear what the doctor had to say. "Your granddaughter is doing better than we could expect. I see no reason she shouldn't have a full recovery."

Instantly the thick tension hanging in the steady silence evaporated. Hugs, smiles, and manly backslapping were happily exchanged.

In order to let Chase stand with his family, C.J. lifted her head and pulled away, only he didn't move. Didn't stand to hear what else the doctor might say. He sat, staring at her, studying her. The strength of his gaze made her warm all over. How the heck was she supposed to walk away in a few days and pretend she'd never had Chase Ivory in her life?

"Which one of you administered first aid?" Tall, older, and with graying hair, the doctor's booming voice matched his rugged appearance.

Chase nodded at her and smiled. Slowly she pushed to her feet and walked to the huddle of family members. Chase remained at her side, his reassuring hand resting at the small of her back. He was here for her. "She did.”

The doctor studied her for a moment before responding, "Excellent work under the circumstances. You saved her life
and
the leg."

For the first time in hours, a smile pulled at her cheeks. "Good."

"What's your background?"

"Lt. C. J. Lawson, US Navy. Three tours in country."

The doctor pressed his lips together and dipped his chin in a single motion. "When Uncle Sam has had enough of you, come see me."

C.J. nodded politely. The strangling lack of breath that usually assailed her whenever she talked of finding a civilian nursing job didn't come. Maybe she was ready to move on. Or maybe she was still numb from the recent adrenaline surge.

"Does anyone know what the hell happened?" Mitch asked.

Nate nodded. "Looks like the driver, a registered guest, had a heart attack while behind the wheel. No other serious injuries. Crews are already on-site, cleaning up."

Beth leaned against her brother Greg. "I keep thinking how much worse this could have been if Siobhan had been standing just a few inches to the left. That car could have mowed her down."

Mitch pulled away from the crowd and walked over to C.J. "Thank you. If you hadn't been there, I don't think any of us would have realized how serious her injury was."

"And none of us would have been able to do what you did." Beth eased around her brother and pulled C.J. into a hug. "Thank you."