Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Cole sat up with a roar, his eyes wide. His good arm rose, as if he were about to strike her, but Ned was there to grab his hand.
“It’s all right, Cole. They’re gonna help you. You were shot, remember?”
Cole met his gaze, and while he appeared confused, recognition passed over his features. “My arm, I still can’t move it,” he breathed and turned his head, as if he were about to glance straight at the mess of flesh and bone.
“Don’t look,” Ned insisted and took hold of Cole’s chin, guiding his shaking body back on the table.”
Cole swallowed, his tawny skin turning purple, as if blood had suddenly drained from his body. “If I don’t make it—”
“You will make it,” Ned insisted with his throat tightening in protest of what his lover was suggesting, but Cole held on to his fingers, eyes never leaving Ned’s.
“There’s a double bottom in my bag. The one with the squirrel tail tassel. Take everything and go west. See the ocean for me. Promise me, Ned.”
Ned couldn’t stop the tears rolling down his cheek, and he looked up, trying to blink them away. “I promise, but you will not die, you reckless idiot. I won’t allow it!”
“The bullet might have hit the nerve that controls the movement of your arm,” Dr. Dawson said, stepping close to the table with his hands hovering in the air, as if he were trying to avoid touching anything.
Ned’s insides twisted into a tight ball. It was Cole’s non-dominant arm, thank God, but was it to be taken from him? Now? He’d take care of Cole and even work for both their sakes, if necessary, but his heart was breaking in two when he imagined his bold lover so incapacitated. “Will he… is there nothing you can do?”
Cole went paler, and his eyes lost focus as he tightened his teeth on the piece of wood Mrs. Dawson offered him. He was thinking about that miserable future too, surely afraid of how vulnerable their unlucky ploy left him. But Dr. Dawson hadn’t lost his cool.
“Margaret, hand me the cocaine powder, please,” he told his wife, and wiped a couple of metal implements with an alcohol-soaked cloth. “I’m going to take out the bullet and mend him as best I can, but I am not a miracle-maker. Infection is our greatest worry, so you’ll keep this clean and visit me again soon, but nothing’s certain at this point. The arm might return back to normal function or it might not. If it becomes infected, I might need to amputate, but do exactly as I say, and there’s a chance that won’t happen.”
Ned gave a slow nod, his gaze fixed on Cole, who stared at the ceiling, breathing ever faster as if he were struggling to control his emotions. But he didn’t shed tears. He didn’t argue or scream at Ned, who’d talked him into seeking out the so-called treasure. He just laid there with sweat sticking black hair to his forehead, braced for what was to come and already resigned to the consequences.
Ned was so proud of him.
The cocaine must have stung, because he flinched as it was rubbed in.
“You must hold him down,” Dr Dawson said while his wife strapped down Cole’s legs and hips with thick leather and once more cleaned her hands, as if they weren’t red enough already.
Ned’s brain floated in his head, shriveling when the doctor opened the wound with pliers and dug in, searching for lead. Cole bucked, roaring into the wooden block, but he’d been weakened, and even in this moment of shock and pain, Ned was stronger. Something deep inside him protested against stifling Cole’s will and leaving bruises on his body, but he did so anyway, because it was necessary. Because without this, they couldn’t have the future they’d planned.
And when Cole’s wide-open eyes met his, he cooed in the way he’d so ineffectually tried to teach Cole. Like a mourning dove.
Dr. Dawson blinked, raising his eyes at Ned. No words passed in the silent office, but when Ned did it again, Cole squeezed his fingers and shut his eyes. This time, when the pliers dived into flesh, he stiffened rather than bucked, listening to Ned’s private promise.
It would be all right. I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll always want you. I’ll take care of you.
He didn’t know whether Cole would understand it the way Ned said it in his heart, but whatever became of them, they would follow the same road, no matter how tough it proved to be. Regardless of what the sounds meant to his lover, he calmed down. And while Cole kept shaking and stirring from the pain, he didn’t seem so frightened at least, safe with Ned as his guardian.
When the bullet dropped to the ceramic tray on the side table, Ned could have wept with relief. He grabbed a clean piece of cloth and dabbed it against Cole’s burning forehead, drying the sweat beading all over naked skin.