“Laethan, this is my Uncle Charles. He and my Aunt Lena raised me. Uncle Charles, this is Laethan, the healer. And this is Beth. She’s hurt.”
He started cleaning away matted blood from her head. Without looking up he said, “When the two of you are willing to cease this unrestrained behavior, Kaevin can return to bed so I can set his broken bones. I suppose this is considered appropriate where you are from, Alora. But here in Stone Clan, we are offended by promiscuity.”
Kaevin heaved a pained and heavy sigh. “I must be with her, Laethan, and we have more wounded to transport.” He carefully placed a broken hand on Charles’ arm. “Sir, we need to go. Can you explain it to him?”
“Me? Explain it to him? Are you kidding me?”
“Thanks, Uncle Charles,” said Alora, as she pressed her lips to Kaevin’s and they disappeared.
After five more transports, Alora collapsed with Kaevin on adjacent chairs in the healing room. She was so tired she barely noticed the hard wood rungs digging into her back. She locked arms with Kaevin and closed her eyes, relishing a moment’s rest. But her eyes popped open at the sound of her grandmother’s voice.
“I have some grave news for you.” Raelene’s face was wet with tears as she knelt on the floor and laid a gentle hand on Kaevin’s arm. “Laethan has done all that can be done for your father and Jireo. He does not believe they will live another full day.”
Alora glanced over to Jireo’s bed, where Arista stood weeping with a man and woman who must have been her parents. Kaevin buried his face in his hands, keening his grief, and she tasted her salty tears.
“No! This doesn’t need to happen. We’ll take them to the hospital in Montana,” said Charles. I saw Doc Sanders save guys hurt worse than this in ’Nam.”
Raelene stood to face him. “I don’t understand these words. Nam? Hostal?”
“A hospital is a place full of nothing but healers—amazing healers with magic medicine,” explained Alora. “But, Uncle Charles. How are you going to explain them? Their wounds? Their clothes?”
“We’ll improvise,” said Charles. “I don’t know, but we can’t just let them die without trying to save them.”
“Is it even possible to take them back?” asked Raelene, inclining her head toward Alora and Kaevin. “They don’t have the strength for such a long move.”
Alora saw the desperate hope in Kaevin’s eyes. “Give us thirty minutes to recover,” she said. “We’ll have to make two trips, so Kaevin and I can stay together. We won’t go to the ranch. I’ll take us straight to the hospital. I know exactly where it is, because we went there so many times when Beth broke her leg.”
“I’ll go on the first trip and carry Graely,” said Charles. “I’ll call Doc Sanders and tell him—I’ll tel
l him—I’ll think of something.”
“We’ll come right back for Jireo, and Wesley can carry him,” said Kaevin. “But do you really think you can save their lives with your magick?”
“I didn’t really mean it when I said the medicine was magic,” said Alora. “But the doctors can do amazing things. Right, Uncle Charles?”
“Kaevin, I won’t make promises I can’t keep. But I have all the faith in the world in Doc Sanders. If anyone can save them, he can.”
“What about Beth?” asked Alora. “She probably has a concussion.”
“I’d appreciate if you’d come back for Beth, and for me as well, after you’ve regained your strength,” said Raelene.
“We’ll come as soon as we can,” Alora promised, praying they’d be able to bring good news when they returned to fetch Raelene and Beth.
Chapter Thirteen
“A hunting accident?” Dr. Sanders asked, skepticism plainly written on his face.
“Shhhh.” Charles peeked outside the curtain to be sure no other doctors or nurses were within earshot.
“Yes.” Wesley bobbed his head. “We went bow hunting.”
“And those two men were hit with arrows?” Doc raised his eyebrows.
“Kind of more like knives… like big knives.” Charles scrambled for a plausible explanation. Lord knows the truth isn’t believable.
“You were hunting with big knives? And?”
“Uhmm... we got an elk, and we were cleaning him, and the knife slipped,” said Wesley.