Lindsay McKenna - Off Limits

“Mice are always shy,” Alex muttered, refusing to look up at him.

With a smile, Jim added, “Well, in my book, any man would be proud to have you on his arm.”

There was such an incredible gentleness about him, and Alex forced herself to meet his hooded stare. “Listen,” she said urgently, “if I don’t get this shrapnel out of my shoulder, I’m not going to live. At least dig it out for me, Jim. I can’t do it on my own. If the foreign object isn’t removed, it will create infection and blood poisoning.” She looked around at the meager supplies positioned along the wall. “Can you do it? Will you?”

Jim’s stomach knotted. Alex was right: if he didn’t do something, she would worsen—could even die. And more than anything, he didn’t want that to happen. “I wish,” he rasped, “that none of this had happened, Alex. You don’t deserve to be in this situation, to be stuck with me.”

“It’s a little late for regrets, isn’t it?”

With a shake of his head, Jim slowly got to his hands and knees. “Yeah, it is. All I’ve got is my Ka-bar knife and a clean compress—plus soap and water.” He glanced over at her. “I’m all thumbs when it comes to delicate work.”

“I don’t believe that,” Alex said. She tried to sound confident and in charge. “Sterilize your knife the best you can. And get the compress, soap and water ready to use after you dig out the shrapnel.” Her heart was pounding, and she was scared—scared of the pain she couldn’t avoid. But there was no choice: if the shrapnel didn’t come out, she was as good as dead. And suddenly, Alex didn’t want to die. Surprised at the depth of her survival instinct, Alex found a startling determination flowing through her for the first time in her life. Maybe it was that backbone that Jim had talked about earlier. What did he see in her that she didn’t see in herself?

“Okay, gal, I’ll get the supplies together. You just lie there and try to relax.”

“Yeah...sure. I’m scared to death, Jim. I’m afraid of the pain—of maybe bleeding to death once you take out the shrapnel....”

Leaning over, Jim pressed his hand to her good shoulder. “Hush, gal, you’re gonna get through this just fine. I’ve got a good sense about it.”

With a whisper, Alex said, “I’m glad you do. I’m just so scared—”

“Don’t let the fear make you freeze, Alex, make it your friend. That’s what I always do.”

Alex tried to do as he counseled. She watched him light a small, oblong piece of metal, a magnesium tab. It flared to life, its white flame making the entire tunnel bright as daylight. A shiver of anticipation threaded through Alex as she watched Jim slowly and carefully pass the point of the evil-looking Ka-bar knife through the flame.

“If I remember my anatomy,” Alex said, her voice strained, “there’s an artery somewhere in the vicinity of the shrapnel. If it’s cut, I’ll bleed to death.”

Jim looked up sharply. “I’ll be careful.” His heart twinged. Alex was too brave, too good, to die—especially at his hands. He’d already killed—Again Jim slammed the door shut on the haunting memory. Still, his hand shook in remembrance, and he released a long, unsteady breath.

“Just think that I’m Tonto, and you’re the Lone Ranger come to help,” Alex joked weakly, feeling sweat form on her brow and run down her temple.

“Right now, I wish I could be a doctor,” Jim muttered. The knife point was sterilized. Jim picked up a small piece of wood. “Here, put this between your teeth like before.”

With a nod, Alex took the wood. Her heartbeat rose to a furious rate, and she tensed. As Jim carefully removed the bandage and dressing, Alex shut her eyes and bit down hard on the wood. Oh, God, it was going to hurt. She tried to think of another time—when she’d broken her arm trying to emulate her two brothers by jumping from the roof of the house to a nearby oak limb. They had derided her, called her a mouse, a coward, until finally, out of hurt and anger, she’d jumped. It hadn’t worked, and Alex had fallen twenty feet to the ground below.

Alex remembered screaming with the pain that had reared up her arm from the broken bone. Her mother had run out of the house to her rescue. Alex recalled sitting on the ground as a ten-year-old, holding her right arm, seeing her mother’s distraught features. Her two brothers had gathered around her, frantic and unable to help. More than anything, Alex remembered her mother wrapping her arm in a towel. Then, when Alex had tried to stand, she’d fainted from the pain. If only she would faint from the pain this time. If only...

* * *

Jim sat tensely in the aftermath of digging the shrapnel from Alex’s shoulder. She’d fainted seconds into the cruel procedure, and he was grateful for that. It had made his job easier. Still, there was no way he could shield his own raw emotions from the pain she’d endured so bravely. Looking at the fresh compress and bandage on her shoulder, Jim wondered if he’d done well enough. The wound looked nasty, red around the torn edges of her flesh. Gently, he touched Alex’s slack features. Easing the wrinkles from her brow, Jim absorbed her quiet beauty into his heart. Even her lips were colorless.

“Little brown mouse,” he murmured, and he continued to gently stroke her cap of sable hair as a mother might soothe a hurt and frightened child. Somehow he couldn’t seem to distance himself from Alex, or the problems he saw ahead. She hadn’t asked to be shot down, or to be here with him. The decision he’d made after—He shut his eyes and groaned. Well, at any rate, Alex was the innocent in this whole mess.

Jim knew his leg was healing, although he was in constant pain. But pain was something he’d learned to live with a long time ago. He looked down at Alex and knew his heart had no defenses against her. What could he do? He couldn’t allow her to die. He certainly couldn’t sentence her to the life he’d chosen to live. His hand rested on her blanketed right shoulder, and he shut his eyes. What was he going to do?

* * *

Alex groaned. The sound of her own voice pulled her out of her unconscious state. She felt a man’s hand on her hair, stroking it slowly, and the sensation eased her pain momentarily.

“Alex?”

It was Jim’s voice, low and next to her ear. She forced her eyes open to slits. He was leaning over her, his face shadowed, sweaty and tense. He placed his finger to her lips and she slowly realized she heard other noises...voices.

Jim gripped Alex’s hand and looked up toward the tunnel’s concealed opening. He recognized the voices as belonging to the VC who owned this territory. It was nearly dark, and they probably were aware of this abandoned tunnel. Alex had been unconscious, moaning off and on for an hour. He’d kept his hand over her mouth, fearing someone would hear them. Now, the VC were very close. Too close.

Sweat trickled down the sides of Alex’s temples. She felt Jim’s grip tighten on her hand. VC were nearby! Her already uneven heartbeat sped up with new terror. In Jim’s hand was the Ka-bar. The dull ache in her shoulder seemed nothing compared to the fear surging through her. She saw the shadow of a man above the concealed entrance. Her breath lodged in her throat. Jim turned, tense and ready to meet any VC coming down the camouflaged access.

How long Alex lay dripping in her own fearful sweat, her heart thundering in her breast, she didn’t know. The shadow disappeared. Gradually, the VC voices drifted off. Closing her eyes, Alex sank back against the hard ground. She felt Jim’s reassuring squeeze on her hand, as if to reward her for remaining utterly silent. Opening her eyes, Alex stared up into his tense, harsh features. The changes that took place in him never ceased to amaze her. One moment, Jim was a country boy with a soft, Missouri drawl telling stories about his growing-up years, the next he was a tiger, ready to strike and kill without any sign of remorse. The change was frightening, but it also made Alex feel protected. She knew Jim would fight to save her life if the VC came down that tunnel entrance.