Lord of the Grrr's (27 page)

The events of the day caught up with her, weighing Zinsa’s eyelids. Sleep stole over her, and it was just as she was about to surrender to its embrace that she realized Grant hadn’t come. His muscles were still knotted with tension, and he didn’t seem to have the air of contentment she’d found. She wanted to analyze the moment, but sleep caught her in its net, dragging her down. As she slipped away, Zinsa realized there was still something missing. The emptiness was between them, not inside her.

Grant’s behavior the next morning reinforced Zinsa’s conclusion. He was distant and withdrawn. He could barely contain his relief when a call came in on the radio set in his office requesting him onsite at an injury. Taking a bit of perverse pleasure from doing so, she went over to him after he signed off, saying, “I’ll come with you. I’ve already discharged two of the patients, and the clinic isn’t open today. I want to see you work.”

“Uh—”

She trailed a hand up his biceps, encased in a thin white T-shirt. “Unless you don’t want me?”

He swallowed audibly. “I’d be happy to have company.”

Zinsa winced at his words, reading more into them than perhaps he meant—as if anyone would do, and she was nothing special. Her heart hurt contemplating that, because after last night, she wanted to be very special to Grant. She just had to get past the wall he had erected between them first.

They took the Land Rover. Settled beside Grant as they bounced over the sometimes-rough terrain, following the worn tracks when they could, while navigating through the veld when they had to, she regretted coming. His silence repudiated her, just as the set of his shoulders and general body language communicated his withdrawal. Whatever she had hoped to accomplish when she’d had the inspiration to tag along seemed doomed to fail, especially since she couldn’t clearly identify her objective.

“Brace yourself.”

She blinked with surprise at the first words he had uttered in ten minutes, barely getting over her stupefaction in time to grasp the handle above the Land Rover’s door

as they splashed through an opaque stream, which cut through the grassland. The tires seemed to protest navigating the muddy banks for just a second before getting traction and conveying them safely to the other side. The resulting jolt made her teeth snap together and induced a small headache.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be so rough.” She had known most of the preserve was untamed, populated by wild herds and their predators, but only in an abstract way, having never spent much time driving through the rough and wild areas of Mekimba. Her clinic was on the main road leading from Natunde, the nearest town. It was a five- mile drive down well-worn paths, deep with tire ruts. She’d had no reason to venture off the trails, until now.

He glanced briefly at her before returning his attention to the veld, following the faint path a vehicle had forged previously. “Are you sorry you came?”

Instead of answering, Zinsa turned her head to look out the window, staring at the golden grass without really seeing it. She refused to answer, because she didn’t know her reply. It appeared to be futile to tag along today, but his question seemed to be probing a deeper issue. Was he referring to last night, when she came, but he didn’t? Well, not after his blowjob, she silently amended. It shouldn’t bother her so much that he hadn’t climaxed again. Physiologically, it wasn’t that unusual. It was the accompanying emotional withdrawal that had her so confused.

If he thought her lack of reply strange, he didn’t say so. The silence lapsed again, lasting until they rounded the bend and came upon a herd of impalas. Nearby, one of the rangers stood beside his Jeep. He lifted an arm to flag them down, and as Grant parked behind his Jeep, Zinsa saw two other rangers on ATVs off to the side. Her brow knitted with confusion as she climbed from the Land Rover, wondering what was happening. All Grant had said was there was an injured animal.

After retrieving his black bag from the back seat, Grant walked over to James. Uncertainly, she trailed behind, hovering near them while doing her best not to intrude.

“What do we have?”

“An injured impala, Doc.” James pointed in the direction of the herd. “See the little one there? It hasn’t gotten up in at least an hour. I’ve seen it move, but I can’t assess the injuries.” He moved his hand to indicate the two rangers waiting on ATVs. “I couldn’t segregate the calf from the herd until they arrived, and they only beat you by a couple of minutes, so we decided to wait.”

With a terse nod, Grant turned toward the herd. He glanced over his shoulder. “Stay back, Zinsa. Impalas are usually placid, but you never know when there’s been an attack. The herd is skittish.”

At his words, she looked more closely at the herd. At first glance, they were little more than a blur of chestnut-brown and white, but when she peered closer, she could see the restless shifting of the members. Their noses twitched and their postures suggested they would bolt at any moment.

Their air of fear increased when the ATVs roared to life, heading straight toward the herd. Outraged on their behalf, Zinsa almost spoke up, until she realized the two rangers were only culling the injured calf from the herd by forcing the other animals to move back. To her surprise, the impalas scattered, but didn’t flee with panic. They must have been through the procedure before.

When Grant walked toward the calf, she couldn’t contain her curiosity and followed. As he knelt by the injured animal, she stood a few feet away, close enough to observe, but far enough back to keep out of his way.

The calf made a low bleating sound when he reached out to touch it. Her stomach clenched with an indescribable emotion at the gentle way he caressed the baby while speaking to it in a soothing tone. His movements were careful and slow as he reached into his bag for a stethoscope.

Emboldened, Zinsa moved closer to stand beside James, who was splitting his attention between the herd, the frantic calf, and a lone female who had split off from the others. “Is that the mother?”

He nodded. “How did you guess?”

“She hasn’t torn her gaze from Grant and the baby. Her fear is different than the others. She seems more worried about the little one than herself.” She shrugged. “I’ve seen it countless times with my patients.” Zinsa gestured to the baby, who seemed to have calmed after its initial fearful reaction to Grant. “What happened to it?”

“It was attacked.” James took a step closer, hunching slightly to point out the gaping gash on its side. “Looks like a big cat…lion or tiger, maybe.”

She frowned when Grant flinched. “Is everything okay, Grant?”

He nodded, not looking up. “I think the baby will be fine.” He sounded choked, and his movements were jerky when he removed a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of gauze from the bag. As soon as he started treatment, his hands became steady, and the moment passed.

Within minutes, he had cleaned the wound, stitched it up, and administered a shot of antibiotic, saying in an offhand way, “There’s no point in bandaging. The little one would have it off in no time.”

Finally, he got to his feet, closing his bag as he did so. The rangers on the ATVs must have realized he was finished, because they revved their engines in preparation to move away from the herd. The calf cried out as it tried to get to its feet when the ATVs came closer.

Apparently, it was too much for the mother. With a cry of her own, one of angry desperation, she came running toward them. As she did so, a large male broke from the herd, falling into place beside her, butting her with his body. His intent was ambiguous, but their path wasn’t—they were headed straight for the calf and anyone in the way.

Seeing them bearing down, Zinsa ran, as did the others. From the corner of her eye, she saw James going in the opposite direction from her. The rangers on the ATVs had driven out of range. She froze, whipping around in search of Grant. Her heart swelled with relief when she caught sight of him, but a gasp of horror escaped her when she realized he was still with the calf, trying to get it to its feet and out of the way of the approaching male and female.

It happened almost too quickly for her eyes to follow. One second, he had the calf on its feet, slapping its haunch to get it running, and the next, he was flying through the air, propelled by the antlers extending from the male’s head.

As quickly as it began, it was over. The male herded the female and her calf back to the others, losing all interest in Grant. Even as the impalas were still near him, she was running to reach Grant, uncaring if it was safe yet.

At his side, she dropped to her knees. She winced when she saw the wound. The male had gored Grant’s shoulder, his antler going in at least three inches. Blood flowed freely, soaking his white T-shirt. Managing a shaky smile, she asked, “Are you with me?”

A groan escaped him, and his eyes opened. “Damn, that hurt.”

His color seemed good in spite of the blood loss, and she was encouraged by his ability to sit up on his own, albeit with a few more curses. Zinsa reached for his bag and unsnapped it. A quick look revealed a pair of scissors and a fresh roll of gauze. Other treatment would have to wait until they got back to the clinic.

“This might hurt.” As gently as possible, she pulled the fabric from the wound, using the scissors to trim a circle in the cotton. The wound looked awful, although it could have been much worse. He would certainly need stitches and an antibiotic to prevent infection, since puncture wounds could turn nasty in no time.

“How bad is it?” he asked in a raspy voice.

Zinsa unwound a handful of gauze, clipping the appropriate length. “You’ll live, but the trip back isn’t going to be fun.” She paused in her ministrations to push the hair off his forehead. “Do you have something for pain in your bag?”

“Just morphine.” Teeth clenched, he shook his head. “I don’t want that.”

Gently, she pressed the crude square of gauze against the wound. His face paled, and he expelled his breath with a gasp of air. “Are you sure you don’t want it? The ride back to the clinic won’t be easy.”

A brittle smile eclipsed his lips. “I’ll be fine. I hate being drugged. It’s a control thing.”

Zinsa let a long sigh be her only response to indicate she disagreed with his decision. At her nod, James and one of the rangers she hadn’t been introduced to, came forward, kneeling beside Grant to help him to his feet. With his teeth clenched so hard his lips bowed outward, he got upright without crying out. His color didn’t improve, but he didn’t pale any further. To her relief, he managed to walk to the Land Rover with only some minor assistance from James on his uninjured side.

She followed behind, carrying his bag, while doing her best to hide her fear. His injury wasn’t what frightened her. She had seen and dealt with worse. What kept her heart pumping was replaying the scene in her mind over and over, with each rerun having more dire outcomes than the one before. By the time she reached the vehicle, her hands were shaking, and she had to stand outside taking deep breaths to gain some measure of control before opening the driver’s side door to slip into the plush leather seat.

James settled Grant into the passenger side, keeping his elbow braced on the armrest between the seats. Perspiration dotted his forehead, and his eyes were closed. His breathing was deep and regular, so she wasn’t worried about him as much as she might have if the wound was lower. What frightened her most was the amount of blood he already lost and would continue to lose during the ride back to the clinic.

Focused on Grant as she was, Zinsa started when James leaned his head in her window. She bit back a cry of shock and tried to force a smile. “Thanks for helping get him in.”

“No problem, Doctor.” He nodded to Grant. “I’ll follow you back to the clinic and help you unload him.”

“Thanks, that would be great.” With a nod, he turned and started toward his Jeep. “Oh wait.” James paused, turning in her direction. “Could you go first? I’m not certain I remember the way back.”

His wide smile highlighted the sparkling white of his teeth against his matte black skin. “Of course, but if you get lost, just follow the recent tire marks.”

Zinsa nodded and started the Land Rover, waiting until James had climbed in his vehicle and started forward before turning the wheel to follow him. Almost immediately, she hit a bump that jostled the car, provoking a groan from Grant. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he said without opening his eyes. It sounded as though he spoke through gritted teeth, and when she glanced at him, he seemed to be using every ounce of his strength to get through the journey. She decided not to make him use any reserves to answer questions unless his condition took a turn for the worse.

Somehow, she managed to divide her attention between the crude path and Grant as she followed James’s Jeep back to the clinic. What had been a rough ride before now seemed a never-ending series of hurdles to cross, with each one designed to wring the maximum amount of pain from her silent passenger. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point by the time they left behind the rough veld and emerged onto the paved path that extended about a mile past the compound.

The last mile passed quickly, without the jarring that plagued the earlier part of the trip. When she shut off the Land Rover in front of the clinic, Zinsa wiped a hand down her sweaty face. She took a moment to breathe deeply to restore calm before unfastening her seat belt and opening the car door. By the time she slid from the vehicle and walked around to Grant’s side, James had assisted him from the Land Rover and had him on his feet. Together, with her walking on Grant’s other side for added support, they led him inside the clinic.

“Where do you want him, Doctor?”

Zinsa cast a glance around the small treatment room, already crammed with patients. The exam table reserved for her was free, but he would need to rest after the treatment. With a decisive nod, she said, “His bed, back this way. It’s where he’ll be most comfortable.” She angled her body in the right direction, somewhat taking the lead, while still assisting Grant.