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.But then another flash illuminated Samuel, leaning heavily on Anthony.She jumped to her feet.“What happened?”“Why didn’t you light the lamps?” asked Samuel.“What lamps?” asked Heather, the creak of the couch indicating she’d stood.“Where were you?”“Ran into an alligator,” said Anthony through the darkness.The lightning flashed again, and he quickly sat Samuel down in a chair before they were plunged into total darkness all over again.“Matches are over the stove,” Samuel wheezed.“Oil lamp on the windowsill.”Joan could hear Anthony feeling his way across the room.“You’re hurt again,” Heather whimpered, brushing Joan’s shoulder as she made her way toward Samuel.Anthony struck a match, and Joan instantly felt better.He put it to the wick of a hurricane lamp, and light filled the little shack.“There’s another on the front window,” said Samuel, and Anthony took care of it.“Let me look,” said Heather.“I’ll get one of the water bottles,” said Joan, somewhat surprised that Heather was offering to play nurse-maid.Her sister didn’t have the strongest stomach in the world, and an alligator bite might be pretty horrific.She prayed that it wasn’t serious and took comfort in the fact that Samuel was conscious and at least walking with help.Water bottle in hand, she brushed past Anthony.“You okay?”“I’m fine,” he assured her.“I got the tail end.Samuel got stuck with the head.”“What happened?”“There was a gator hiding in Old Man Barns’s shack,” said Samuel.“We scared him up.”“I thought you were just going to look around?” Joan peered into Anthony’s face, the yellow light flickering off its planes and angles.He was the rugged Anthony once again, sweaty, streaked with dirt and scratches.The feelings she’d had in her living room the first night of the intruder rushed back.She wanted him.Right here, right now.He leaned down and whispered in her ear.“Don’t look at me like that.”Joan quickly neutralized her expression and took the new water bottle to Heather.Her sister looked up worriedly from Samuel’s leg.Joan commandeered the second oil lamp, moving it to the floor for a better view.The cuts were deep and jagged.“I’ll try to find a clean bandage,” said Anthony.He peeled back the dust cover on one of the beds, unzipped the knapsack and dumped everything out.They had water bottles, beignets, cinnamon rolls and a half bottle of French wine.“Luc runs a classy outfit,” said Samuel.Anthony checked the side pockets and found some cloth napkins.“Those will do it,” said Joan.She turned to Samuel.“You want to drink a little of the Médoc before we pour it on the wound?”“Hell, yes,” he said.Heather blinked and turned away.Anthony crouched down beside Joan.“How does it look?”“Wish I had more medical training,” she said.Quite frankly, it looked terrible.But she wasn’t about to say that out loud.“You’ve had medical training?” asked Anthony.“No.I said I wish I had.”Samuel chuckled above them.A sob escaped from Heather.“Hey.” Samuel’s voice was soft.“Come here.” He held out his hand to her.“It’s not that bad.”“It is that bad,” she sobbed.“I don’t know how you can joke about it.”“If I can joke about it, then it can’t be that bad.” He motioned with his hand.“I’m certified in first aid,” said Anthony.“Really?” asked Joan.“Really,” said Anthony, and she quickly moved out of the way.“It looks worse than it is,” he said to Heather.Samuel nodded his agreement.“It’s got to hurt like hell,” said Anthony.“But that old boy didn’t cut anything vital.”Heather took a couple of hesitant steps toward Samuel.He wrapped his big arm around her and pulled her against him.“I need you—” he said.Joan blinked at the pair in amazement.“—to hold my hand while they pour on the wine,” Samuel continued.“That part will hurt like hell.”Heather gave a hesitant smile, and the intimate moment was over, making Joan wonder if she’d imagined the whole thing.“WE HAVE TO STOP meeting like this,” said Samuel from the narrow bed in the clinic’s surgery room.Heather smiled as she stroked her fingertips across his forehead, hoping she was being of some comfort.She suspected the codeine and Novocain the doctor had administered were giving him a lot more comfort than she could.Back at the bayou shack, they’d lain side by side all night long in one of the little beds, listening to the storm crash above them.Samuel hadn’t slept much.He’d tried to stay still, but his muscles were tense and his breathing mostly shallow.“You have to promise me you’ll stop taking chances,” she said.“You’re holding me responsible for the behavior of an alligator?”“I’m holding you responsible for disturbing said alligator.”“I don’t see how that’s fair.”“Who said anything about fair, bucko? I’m trying to have a wild sex fling with you, and you keep messing up your body.”He chuckled at that
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