The Tin Star (25 page)

“I’m okay, Cowboy. You hang on.” Blood was saturating Ethan’s shirt. “Fuck! Ethan you’re bleeding bad. We have to get this shirt off so we can see how bad it is.”

“Went all the way through.” Ethan’s voice was very soft and shaky.

Jamie was grateful there wasn’t a bullet ricocheting around in Ethan doing more damage.

Ethan closed his eyes again, his face suddenly paler.

“Ethan!” Jamie immediately felt for his pulse. It was weak, but there, thank God. He ripped Ethan’s shirt open, looking for the wound, which was raw and ugly, high up on the right side, not too far below the collarbone, then gingerly felt beneath Ethan, to his back for where the bullet had entered. Both wounds were bleeding heavily. He rapidly tore strips off part of Ethan’s shirt and tried to roll Ethan onto his side while keeping pressure on both wounds. “Ethan! Talk to me.”

“’M here.” Brown eyes blinked open, then shut again.

“I’m going to put you on your side to try and stop this bleeding. I want you to let me and Bill do all the work, okay? You stay still.”

Between Bill and him, they managed to maintain pressure on the injured areas and get Ethan lying on his side. Still, there was blood everywhere.

Jamie quickly stripped off his own shirt and tore off two sections to create pads. Bill held one pad to each wound and pressed while Jamie used strips from Ethan’s shirt to tie them in place. He nodded to Bill to indicate he was done. Then they gently laid Ethan down on Jamie’s leg, centering the pad that was on Ethan’s back over Jamie’s thick thigh muscles, and supporting his head with an arm. Jamie kept pressure on Ethan’s chest over the front wound.

“Don’t feel so good. Hurts where you’re pushin’.”

“I know it does, but it’ll help to stop bleeding. Keep talking to me, Cowboy.”

Ethan barely nodded, and didn’t say anything. His dark hair was in his eyes. It was getting long, needed to be cut. Jamie would have brushed it out of Ethan’s face, but he was afraid to let up the pressure on the wounds. Ethan had lost a lot of blood.

Ed and Hayden were suddenly there, smelling of sweat, horse, and dirt. So was Fred; she took up residence at Ethan’s feet, growling at anyone that got near him.

Jamie was hardly aware of them; everything was just background noise. His focus was where it needed to be: completely centered on Ethan. His cowboy was so pale, the blood soaking through his fingers despite the pads and the force he was exerting. He pushed harder.

He thought he could hear the helicopter now. He could even see it. Feel the dirt that it stirred up hitting his face. He leaned over, trying to keep the dirt and gravel from hitting Ethan.

“Jamie, call Fred off, so we can get Ethan to the helicopter. We have to get him out of here. Jamie!”

Jamie glanced up at Hayden, then his dog. “Fred, Sit!”

She dropped immediately.

The sheriff’s car came screaming up the drive.

Jamie lifted Ethan’s head into his lap as Hayden helped push down on Ethan’s wounds.

Gray Hunter jumped out of his vehicle while talking on his radio. The helicopter was louder now, making it impossible to hear the sheriff.

“You still with me, Cowboy?”

There was no answer.

“Ethan?”
Fuck!
“Tell them to hurry!”

Gray was saying something to him.

“Huh?”

“Jamie, the helicopter is landing. You go with Ethan to the hospital and I’ll meet you there. My deputies are looking around the ranch. Bill will follow you to the hospital after he picks up Ethan’s aunt. Do you need me to call anyone?”

“Call my brother and tell him to get a hold of my sister.”

“Will do. Here they come.” He signaled to the pilot to land in the wide area between the barn and the corral.

Two men slid out and rushed over with a gurney and took Ethan from his arms. Hayden pulled him out of the way as the two men maneuvered Ethan onto the stretcher, immediately started an IV, strapped his wounds more tightly, then raced to the helicopter. Jamie looked down at his blood-soaked hands, his stained chest, then sprinted after the men. One of them looked at Jamie as he skidded to a halt beside Ethan. “You going, too?”

Jamie nodded.

The man pointed to the front of the chopper. “Up there. We need room to work back here.”

Jamie nodded again, ran around the other side of the aircraft and jumped in, shutting the door behind him. The pilot handed him a set of headphones, which he put on, then looked back over his shoulder to where the paramedics were working on Ethan. His cowboy was so pale.
God, please ...

Jamie didn’t remember anything of the flight. It seemed to be bare moments before they were landing on the roof of the hospital Julia worked at.

Jamie got out and was right behind Ethan and the paramedics as they rushed inside, where he was hit with a barrage of questions and Ethan was wheeled rapidly away from him. He desperately wanted to follow his cowboy but answered everyone as quickly and as best he could. Eventually, he was led to a waiting area.

It seemed like hours before a hot cup of coffee was pressed into his hands. He looked up into Julia’s worried blue eyes.

“Hey. We really gotta stop meeting in hospitals.”

He dredged up a weak grin from somewhere. “Hey. You find out anything?”

“I just got here. He’s still in surgery, but they’ve got him stabilized. That was all I found out before I came to find you. I’m headed down to the OR now. John, Margie, and Bill are on their way.”

Jamie nodded. “’Kay. Go check on him, Jules.”

She nodded, then bent and kissed his forehead. “I will, baby. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out more. You gonna be all right?”

“I’ll be fine. Just go check on Ethan for me, please.”

He had to be okay; he just had to. Things had been going so well. They’d gotten things worked out between them. Started planning for the future, more or less. And now this. It was like some bad dream; it almost didn’t seem real, except Ethan wasn’t there beside him, making him feel better, telling him everything would work out.

Jamie took a deep breath, blinking back tears. He drank his coffee and tried to keep from playing the “what if” game. It wouldn’t do him or Ethan any good. And Jules had said he was stabilized, hadn’t she?

Jamie dropped his head in his hands, trying desperately not to cry.
Huh! Imagine that. I’m still barefoot.

An hour later, John, Bill, and Margie came in, demanding answers that Jamie couldn’t give them. They were all mad, scared and none too quiet about it all. Margie was crying, Bill was crying and John’s eyes were suspiciously shiny and red-rimmed.

Jamie finally got everyone calmed down and kept them busy. He’d sent Bill and Margie after more coffee and John to find him some sort of footwear and a shirt.

He went to the hospital entrance and got on the phone with Hayden, trying to find out whether Hunter and his men had discovered anything. Unfortunately, he wasn’t getting anywhere except more and more pissed, but that was okay, because being pissed and looking for answers kept worry in the back of his head.

He paced. It seemed to make him feel better. Sitting only made him feel more helpless.

Sometime during his quest for answers, someone pushed another cup of coffee into his hands, as well as a pair of the foam slippers patients were often given and a hospital gown, both of which he put on. Hayden called him back and said that the deputies had found a shell casing about thirty yards from where Ethan was shot, in the wooded area across from the drive. The sheriff was on his way to the hospital and his deputies were still searching the ranch. Hunter was on Hayden’s other line and would call Jamie or let him know what was going on after he reached the hospital.

Ten minutes after he got off the phone, Julia and the others found him again. He ran to her.

“He’s out of surgery and in the recovery room. Once the surgeon and anesthesiologist give the okay, they’ll move him to the ICU. He was really lucky; the bullet went right through, so there wasn’t as much damage as there could have been.” She paused. “He had a lot of blood loss, as you know, so they had to transfuse some units of blood into him. Fortunately, the bullet went in at an angle between his spine and shoulder blade and came out just below his collar, just nicking his lung, which didn’t collapse, thank God, so they didn’t have to put a chest tube in. They’re going to monitor that and make sure his lung stays inflated. There’s some damage to the muscles in his chest and back, which will heal in time, but none of the bones or major blood vessels were injured.”

“When can I see him?”

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up; then it’s possible I can get you in there, before they move him.” She smiled at him. “Being my brother does have some advantages. I’ve already been in to see him.”

John gripped his shoulder but didn’t say anything. Margie started to protest, but Bill put a hand on her arm, quieting her. Jamie mouthed “Thanks” to Bill, then followed Julia.

* * * * *

He became aware of a hand squeezing his, and several beeps and other assorted noises. Where the hell was he? Damn, his chest hurt, and he felt sore everywhere.

Oh, yeah. He’d gone to get Jamie’s truck and ...

“... love you, Cowboy.”

Jamie?
He tried to clear his thoughts.

Jamie had never told him he loved him. Sure he knew, just like Jamie knew he loved him, too, but they’d never said it aloud. He cracked his eyes open.

Jamie was sitting beside him, gripping his hand tightly. His dark head rested on the bed beside their entwined hands.

“Love you, too, Blue Eyes.” Damn, it was hard to talk. His throat was scratchy, dry.

Jamie’s head popped up, eyes wide, tired, hopeful. “Ethan?”

“Water?”

Jamie smiled, tears brimming. “Let me ask.” He got up and left.

Ethan must have dozed because the next thing he knew there was a nurse checking him over. Then she was instructing Jamie to only give him ice chips first, then small sips of water with a straw if his stomach was able to handle the ice chips. Jamie obeyed her to the letter, much to Ethan’s annoyance.

Jamie gave him some ice chips, then set the cup on the nightstand and grabbed his hand. He blinked those big blue eyes at him, then closed them and tilted his head toward the ceiling.

Ah, Blue Eyes, don’t cry. It’ll be all right.
He squeezed Jamie’s hand with a surprising lack of strength.

When Jamie looked at him again, tears were dripping down his cheeks. “Thought I’d lost you.”

“No, baby, I’m here. Too stubborn to die.”

“We can’t stay here anymore, Ethan. This has gone beyond serious.”

Ethan released Jamie’s hand, reached up, brushed a tear away. He had to make his Jamie feel better, had to make him understand. “We’re not back to this, are we?” He blinked. Jamie’s face wavered before him. Damn! He was so tired. How long had he been here?

“Jamie, you were right. People will never accept us unless we make them. We are not going to let them force us out.”

“But --”

He shook his head softly, his eyelids falling. Really tired. Someone -- Jamie -- gripped his hand. He opened his eyes again. “No buts, Blue Eyes. As you said, if we run now, we’ll always be running.”

Jamie shook his head as well. “You yourself told me that the Tin Star is just a place, not worth our lives.”

“Different, Jamie. ’S different. You want to leave, won’t stop you, but I can’t go. Wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

Jamie nodded and gave him a wobbly grin through his tears. “Stubborn bastard.”

Ethan smiled, or tried to. It was a little difficult under the circumstances. “Already told you that. Too stubborn ...” He swallowed, trying to moisten his throat. “... to die and too stubborn to run.”

Jamie grabbed the cup of ice chips and tipped it to his mouth again.

“Thanks.”

Jamie nodded and replaced the cup. “Welcome.” He sat silently for several minutes, still holding his hand, dropping kisses on his knuckles every now and again. Then he whispered. “I’m scared, Ethan.”

His eyelids were so heavy they hurt. “I am, too, baby,” he whispered back, closing his eyes, then blinking them back open, struggling to stay awake a little longer.

Those pretty blue eyes looked back at him, bloodshot and wet. “I’m staying and fighting, too, or I’ll die trying.”

Ethan shut his eyes on a nod, hoping like hell that that wasn’t going to be necessary.

Chapter Eighteen

“Sheriff Hunter, please.” Jamie looked from his rearview mirror back to the road, scanning it on each side as he drove. Since Ethan had been shot two weeks ago, he’d become very diligent about staying alert, paying close attention to his surroundings. Unfortunately, it was dark out and he couldn’t see much beyond his headlights.

The sheriff had discovered where the shooter had been hiding. Even better, he’d found the bullet, too. Now they were waiting for the forensics results on it to come back.

“Hunter.”

Jamie blinked, so focused on his surveillance that he’d momentarily forgotten the phone. “Gray. Hi. It’s Jamie. You got any more news for me?”

The sheriff heaved a heavy sigh over the phone. “No. I wish I did, Jamie. I’m still looking. I’m checking out several leads, including the ones you gave me. So far, everyone has an alibi and I’m waiting on the ballistics report. Those assholes at the lab keep giving me the same ole song and dance; they take their own sweet little time.” He sighed again, more quietly this time. “How’s Ethan?”

Damn it!

Jamie checked the rearview again, trying not to let the lack of information get to him. “He’s fine. Sleeping a lot. Walking around his room when he wakes up. I’ve been so busy I haven’t seem much of him.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. Listen, don’t get so caught up in stuff that you drop your guard. I understand you not wanting to leave -- hell, I wouldn’t either -- but you pay attention to everything around you, you got that?”

Jamie automatically glanced from the rearview mirror, then to the front and side to side. “I am, Gray. Trust me, I’m taking it very seriously. How can I not?”

“I know you are. Just don’t want you to forget, especially when you’re involved in taking care of business. I’ve still got my deputies going out by y’all’s place four and five times a night, just looking around, making sure everything is as it should be.”