Marguarita shook her head quickly.
There’s no need, really, Lea. Even if they come here, what are they going to see? The boys at work. Me. You don’t see a De La Cruz anywhere around, do you? They won’t, either. They’ll look around and then go home.
Lea nodded. “I guess I shouldn’t worry. And the De La Cruz family is very powerful. They probably have people like DS targeting them all the time.”
The warning siren went off alerting Marguarita that something had happened somewhere on the ranch. Marguarita leaped to her feet, racing toward the front door. She could hear the pounding of hooves as horsemen approached the house at a wild gallop. Marguarita flung the door open. Julio stood with his fist upraised, face white beneath his tan, his clothes covered in blood.
“We need the helicopter pilot, Marguarita. Ricco’s been gored. His horse threw him and the cattle stampeded. It’s bad. Really bad.”
She raced back into the bathroom and grabbed the first-aid kit while Julio made the call for the pilot.
Julio was swearing when she reached his side. She sketched a question mark.
“Charlie’s drinking again. He’s gone just when we need him most.” Julio shoved his hand through his hair. “He won’t make it if we don’t get him to a hospital.”
“I can fly a helicopter,” Lea said. “I have a license. I can fly small planes as well. My father owned a charter service, and we all learned to fly.”
Julio swung around to scowl at the woman as if she’d grown two heads. “You better know what you’re talking about. Ricco’s going to die if we don’t get him medical attention.”
Color crept up Lea’s neck into her face. “I can fly him to the hospital. I’ve logged hundreds of hours in a helicopter and more in small planes. I can fly just about anything. It’s what my family did.”
“Then you’re the pilot,” Julio said. “Let’s go. Come on, Marguarita, you’re going to have to try to keep him alive until we make it to help.”
They ran toward the big hangar housing the aircraft. One thing she had always been grateful to the De La Cruz family for was the first-class equipment they always supplied. The ranch was out so far that they used aircraft for medical aid as well as for checking the cattle and horses in the hills and fields.
“Is your helicopter kept in good condition?” Lea asked, running to keep up with Julio’s longer strides.
“Yes. It’s always serviced after every run. But you’d better double-check. I have no idea how long Charlie’s been drinking this time,” Julio replied grimly.
Several men rushed toward the hangar, carrying Ricco on a stretcher. Marguarita raced to intercept them, trying to inspect the wound as they took him to the helicopter. The steer had caught Ricco in the abdomen and it looked bad. Very bad. She didn’t think, even with a surgeon standing by, that he had much of a chance. She glanced at the sky and looked over the stretcher at Julio, a question in her eyes.
Julio looked as grim as she felt. He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen what a maddened steer could do before. The sun was still a ball in the sky, but it was dropping slowly. The sky was clear with few clouds. They had a good hour before sunset. Ricco didn’t have that kind of time. She’d seen what the sun had done to Zacarias. She shook her head. Julio glared at her as the men carefully loaded Ricco into the helicopter. Marguarita climbed in beside him and tore open his shirt.
She gasped and put pressure on the wound. There was no way he could possibly make it, no matter how fast they got the helicopter into the air.
Zacarias. She didn’t want to force him to tell her he couldn’t help, but the wound was ghastly and no way would Ricco make it alive to the hospital. I need you. She had no idea if he would answer her call or even care, but she had to try.
The stirring in her mind was instantaneous, as if all along he had been aware of her awake and out of the house. Are you hurt? His voice was filled with concern for her and strangely it warmed her.
Not me. Ricco, one of the workers. We’re going to take him to the hospital, but he won’t make it if you can’t help us.
You wish me to do this for you?
Her heart leaped, stuttered and then began to pound. His voice was so matter-of-fact and in truth, she wasn’t entirely certain what she was asking of him—but he’d managed to save her and she never should have lived.
What is the risk to you? She had to know. She bit at her lower lip, suddenly terrified of what she was asking of him. Nothing can happen to you.
There was a moment that she felt him in her mind, touching every part of her, a brushing caress completely at odds with his lethal presence.
Show me the wound. Look directly at it.
Marguarita steeled herself. The horn had penetrated deep and she was certain the tear had all but killed Ricco. It was fortunate he was unconscious because she had nothing to stop the pain. She forced herself to stare at Ricco’s torn stomach, trying to send her own impressions to Zacarias.
Put your hands on the wound and apply pressure. Go deep, Marguarita.
She’d dealt with lacerations, but never anything like this. She was no nurse, but she was all Ricco had. She closed her eyes and did as Zacarias instructed. Her hands sank into blood and gore with a horrible sound.
Soft laughter teased her mind. I have to see, kislány kuηenak minan—my little lunatic. Keep your eyes open.
Swallowing hard she did so. She felt heat move through her body. Her hands tingled and grew hot. Her fingers moved of their own accord and somehow, for one moment, she was no longer inside her own body, but tied to Zacarias and moving through Ricco’s body. It was an odd wrenching sensation leaving her physical body behind and streaming through another human. Her stomach rebelled, but she fought hard to stay in control, breathing deep.
Just as abruptly she was back, a little dizzy and feeling weak. She could tell Zacarias was even weaker than she was.
That should hold him until he gets to a surgeon, but he’s lost too much blood, Marguarita. I will have to give him mine or all of this is for naught.
Do you want us to bring him back into the house? Can you make it up this time of day?
Do not take the chance of moving him again. I will come to you.
But you can’t. He couldn’t. The sun would burn him. What had she done? Please don’t sacrifice your life.
Again she felt that brushing caress go through her mind, as if he’d trailed fingertips over the inside of her skull.
Lea was in the pilot seat, already going through the checklist, preparing for flight. Marguarita lifted her hand to attract Julio’s attention. Frantically she wiped her hands and scribbled a note to Julio.
Tell her we have to stabilize him before she can fly him out of here. Zacarias did what he could through me, but he says he needs his blood to survive the journey. He’s coming out and Lea can’t see him. She can’t know he’s in residence. I’ll explain as soon as I can.
Julio nodded. She was grateful he understood the gravity of the situation and didn’t waste time arguing with her. Outside the sky darkened and ominous clouds gathered and spun as if angry.
“We’ve got to go,” Lea shouted.