Джерри Хилл - Gulf Breeze

As she crawled around the corner of the barn, the back door to the ranch house flew open and Carly was standing there, shielding her eyes against the wind and rain. Then she was running towards her and Pat finally relaxed.

"Made it," she said. "Never doubted it for a minute."

Then Carly fell to her knees in front of her, her eyes wide as she saw blood running down Pat's face.

"Jesus Christ," she whispered. "Can you make it to the house?"

"Piece of cake," Pat said with a grin. But it hurt to smile.

Carly grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet, struggling against the wind towards the house. Finally, the door slammed shut and the sudden silence startled Pat.

"Oh my God. You're hurt. Sit down."

"I'm okay," Pat said. "Here." She lifted up the pillowcase, now as wet as she was, and handed it to Carly.

"You found them?"

"Safe and sound. Or they were," she said as she collapsed into a chair and wiped the blood away from her eye.

Carly opened the pillowcase and peeked inside, meeting two pairs of wild eyes.

"I can't believe you did this," she said. She glanced at Pat and grinned. "My hero."

She went to the box she'd prepared, just in case. She lifted out the birds and settled them inside, then covered it with a towel. She would tend to them later. Right now, someone more important needed her.

She cupped Pat's face gently, her frown deepening as she saw the deep cut above Pat's right eyebrow.

"What happened to you?"

"I think it was a baseball bat," Pat said.

Carly touched her cheekbone and Pat pulled away.

"It hurts," she said.

"You'll be lucky if it's not broken." Then she lightly touched Pat's lips with her own. "I was…I was so scared," she admitted. "I didn't know what to do."

"How could you think I wasn't coming back?" Pat asked. "I haven't seen you naked yet. You think I'd miss out on that?"

Carly closed her eyes, then bent and kissed Pat again, her lips lingering this time.

"Okay, enough of that mushy stuff," Pat said. "I'm bleeding to death here."

"I'm sorry." Carly stood back. "Sit up there," she said, pointing to the counter. "I'm going upstairs for my bag. Don't move."

Pat did as she was told. The throbbing in her face was nearly unbearable but it beat the constant roar of the storm. She glanced at her watch, surprised to see that over two hours had passed since she'd left the ranch house. No wonder Carly had been frantic.

She heard her running back down the stairs, then she reappeared with what looked like a medical bag in her hand.

"Jesus, Pat. At least take your rain coat off," Carly said. She moved to Pat, sliding the wet jacket off her shoulders. "You're absolutely soaked. What did you do? Take a dip in the pond?"

"I may have. I don't really remember," Pat murmured.

Carly frowned. Pat's face was flushed, cool. She seemed to be in shock.

"Lift your arms up," Carly instructed quietly. Pat did and Carly pulled her wet T-shirt over her head, leaving Pat in only her sports bra. Carly raised her eyes, meeting Pat's. Now was no time to stare, she knew, but Jesus the woman was beautiful. She threw the wet shirt into the sink, then opened her bag.

Pat cringed as Carly dabbed at her cut. It burned and she squeezed her eyes shut against the pain.

"I'm sorry. I know it hurts but I've got to clean it. You need stitches."

"Stitches? No."

"Yes."

Carly spread Pat's legs and stood between them, wiping at the cut. The bleeding would not stop. She put pressure on it and held it, seeing the pain in Pat's eyes. Then she felt Pat tremble, felt the pressure as Pat's legs tightened around her hips.

"What? Too hard?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" Pat whispered.

"I'm trying to stop the bleeding. I know it hurts."

Pat suddenly gripped Carly's hips and pulled her tightly into her opened legs. Carly gasped at the intimate contact.

"No, this is what you're doing to me," Pat murmured. She leaned forward and captured Carly's lips. Despite the pain in her face, the ache between her legs was greater.

Carly melted into the kiss, letting Pat hold her close. But she pulled away finally. This was not the time or place to start this.

"Behave," she said. She dabbed at the wound again, pleased that the bleeding had nearly stopped. "I need to close this." She reached into her bag again and pulled out a suture. She ignored Pat's gasp.

"That's for dogs, right?" she asked.

"Well, I was training to be a vet," Carly said.

"Maybe you shouldn't use that on me. Right?"

Carly nearly laughed. It was at times like this that she just wanted to take Pat in her arms and hold her. Not kiss her. Just hold her.

"Be quiet. You're such a baby," she said.

"Surely you have something to deaden it," Pat said.

"I didn't think you'd need it."

"Of course I need it! I'm not completely insane."

This time Carly did laugh.

"Will you hold still? I put a topical on it. I don't have anything else."

"Dr. Cambridge, and I use that term lightly, because I'm not a dog," Pat said. "But I'm really a wimp when it comes to pain."

"You could have fooled me." Carly dabbed again at the wound and this time Pat didn't pull away. "See. Can't even feel it."

"I'm sure I'll feel a needle and thread."

"Suture," Carly said. "But maybe I should just put a butterfly on it. It's not a clean cut and I'm a little out of practice. It may leave a scar. We can take you to a doctor tomorrow."

Pat met her eyes, then took her hand and brought it to her lips. She closed her eyes as she kissed Carly's palm.

"That's okay. I don't mind a scar. Years from now, it'll give us something to talk about. I'll remind you of how you tried to kill me, all for a couple of egrets. And we'll have hundreds of egrets out here then, just because of these two little guys. So I won't mind a scar, Carly."

Carly stared at her, again diving into her eyes. She reached out and touched Pat's face gently.

"Sometimes, you say things…you just take my breath away."

Carly settled Pat into her bed, now in dry shorts and a clean T-shirt. She could tell Pat had discarded her sports bra and she pulled her eyes away from her breasts, moving instead to Pat's face. She had given her a pain pill and Pat was nearly asleep. The bruise on her cheek was more pronounced and there was a slight discoloration under her eye. She was damn lucky. Actually, the egrets were damn lucky. They would surely be dead by now.

"It was a stupid thing to do," Pat murmured.

"Yes, it was."

"But I would do it all over again."

"I'm sure you would."

"The bed smells like you."

Carly smiled as Pat drifted off to sleep. She watched her for a minute, then walked downstairs. She needed to check on the egrets.

They lost power just as she lifted the towel from the box.

"Great."

She fumbled along the counter, trying to find the flashlight she'd set out. Then she flashed the beam around the kitchen, going to the cabinet where she'd stashed the oil lamps. She lit one, illuminating the kitchen with a soft glow.

The egret chicks were wet but seemed okay. They shied away from her and seemed alert.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you," she murmured softly to them. She covered the box again. They would be okay until morning. She would worry about feeding them then.

She jumped as something hit the house, rattling the windows. Another tree branch, no doubt. She moved the flashlight to her watch. It was nearly four. The storm was moving over them. The last weather report she'd heard had the eye hitting closer to Galveston, but still too close for comfort. The winds were probably at least one hundred-twenty as it were.

She pulled out the second lamp and set it on the counter. She would use it in the morning. She took the lit one and carefully climbed the stairs, trying to ignore the pounding of the shutters as they banged against the house. The worst was upon them. It could only get better.