“Ben’s been shot,” she told him frantically, seeing that hewasn’t critical. “I hit Owen with my horse. I don’t know his state, but I threw the gun away. Can you tie him up? Ben has rope in his saddlebags.”
“You call for help?”
“Yeah, they’re coming.”
She turned back to Ben. God, there was so much blood. When she checked his pulse, it was thready. Not good. She didn’t dare move him.
She had to do something. But what? All her supplies were back at the ranch. She pressed her hands to her head. “Think, Hannah, think.”
Yarrow. She needed yarrow. It stopped bleeding. She shoved to her feet. “Hang on, Ben.”
Running toward Flame, she shouted to Hudson, who was securing Owen. “Put pressure on his wounds. I’ll be right back.”
She mounted in a flash and took off in the direction where she’d seen yarrow. Thank God it wasn’t far. She grabbed the whole section by the roots, white flower heads and all, and swung back into the saddle, cradling them in her lap, praying with all her might as she raced back to Ben.
The moment she reached him, she jumped down from her horse. Hudson kneeled beside Ben, keeping pressure on the wound, and she ran over to them.
He looked up, his face a horror of bruising and swelling. “You nailed Owen good. Too bad he’s not dead.”
Her knees gave out a moment before she locked her muscles in place.Thank God. She’d hoped she hadn’t killed him.
Kneeling, she started mashing the leaves and flowers in bunches. She needed them wet, dammit. There was water in the picnic basket, but it was too far. This had to do. Ben needed them now.
“You hang in there, cowboy.” Hudson lifted his handwhen she was ready to press the hasty poultice to his upper wound. “Dammit, I need a knife for his jeans.”
“They took mine.”
“Hudson, Ben’s hunting knife in his saddlebags.”
“On it,” he replied in a steely voice.
Blood was soaking into the plant matter.Is the bleeding slowing?How long was it supposed to take? She’d never seen this much blood before, and her hands were sticky and wet from it, and the metallic tang turned her stomach… “Ben. Stay strong. I need you. Don’t you dare think about leaving me.”
She pressed harder, pushing her will into it.Please, don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you, cowboy.
Hudson appeared in a rush and cut through Ben’s jeans. She grimaced at the red, torn flesh around the entry site. But it hadn’t hit the femoral artery, thank God. Right.Venous bleeding oozes.“Keep applying pressure to his chest,” she told Hudson.
Should she have him get Ben the blanket from the tree house?
No, pressure was more important.
She mashed up more yarrow before pressing the poultice to his thigh, her breath harsh in her ears. “Come on, dammit. Stop bleeding.”
“Hannah, if anything can help, it’s your herbs.” Hudson’s calm voice had her taking a shaky breath. “Put pressure on his leg. Help will be here soon.”
And he was right. She heard the ATVs before they zoomed into the glen.
“Oh, thank God.” She exhaled, feeling the pulse of Ben’s life force under her hand.
Will was driving the one on the right, and Neil was off and running toward her before he’d come to a complete stop, an emergency bag in his hand.
“Neil!” She swallowed thickly as he reached her, kneelingacross from her next to Hudson. “Ben’s shot twice. I applied yarrow?—”
“You did good, lass,” he told her with a steady look before he started checking vitals. “Your dad’s about five minutes away. We’re going to make a tourniquet for that thigh and make him comfortable. Your dad has an air ambulance.”
She felt Will lower to the ground beside her, putting his hand on Ben’s calf, his head lowered in prayer.
She watched as Ben’s father appeared, flinching before he knelt at Ben’s feet, and then Gramps was struggling to a knee as well, mouth tight, as they formed a circle around the man they all loved.
