Page 80 of Mountain Shadow

He watched her carefully for signs of any negative reaction, grateful when there were none. At one point, she even regained consciousness.

“My chest hurts,” she whispered. Her beautiful eyes were full of pain. He wished he could take the pain from her.

“Not your arm?”

She shook her head no.

“Good.”

“You’re here,” she said. “I thought I was dreaming.”

A wave of emotion rose up inside of him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I love you.

“Tell Tess …”

“You’ll tell her yourself,” he promised.

A small, sad smile crossed her face. “It’s going to be okay, Jens …”

She lost consciousness before finishing the sentence.

His heart seized. She thought she was going to die, and didn't want him to worry. But nothing would be okay if she wasn’t. She had his heart. She was his heart.

Jens monitored her pulse and blood pressure, praying it would remain stable, as waited for the first bag to finish emptying into her. By then, the second bag was full, so he began the second transfusion.

He watched the third bag fill with his blood, feeling slightly lightheaded. He clenched his teeth against the discomfort. He couldn’t afford to pass out, or there would be nobody to put pressure on Sarah’s wound.

Once the bag was full, he removed the needle out of his own arm and untied the dark blue restriction band, dropping both items on the floor next to him. One look at Sarah’s blood pressure told him she was going to need the third unit of blood, and even that wouldn’t last her long, not if he couldn’t stop the flow of blood. It killed him to know that if his team didn’t find them soon, Sarah would die.

He caressed her face, avoiding the large bruise growing on her cheekbone, and whispered in her ear, as if his voice could lend her the strength she to hold on.

“Please hold on, Sarah. Please don’t leave me.”

Then he heard a chopping sound—faint enough that at first he thought he might be imagining it, then louder and louder as the Alouette approached.

Thank God.

Unwilling to release the pressure on Sarah’s wound, Jens shouted loudly. He hoped the team would see the emergency rescue blanket and come inside.

Less than a minute later, he heard the thudding of boots on the ground, and Gael’s face appeared in the doorway.

“¡Gracias a Dios!” he said, slipping into his native tongue.

There was a man behind him, also dressed in the PGHM uniform. Jens recognized Tristan, the pilot from the Annecy team.

Their expressions darkened and Jens pictured the scene as they must be seeing it—the dead body in the corner, Sarah’s unconscious body on the ground, and him, leaning over her, surrounded by the rich, coppery scent of blood.

Though he knew the danger hadn’t passed, he felt shaky with relief.

“Help me, please,” he begged.

“You gave her blood?” Gael asked.

Jens nodded. He was going to need to tell the hospital, anyway, so they could monitor Sarah for any reaction. “She’s blood type O positive.”