Her Baby's Bodyguard

While the men spoke, Eva turned her attention to the task of sitting up. The extra weight from Katya and her bundles of supplies made it more difficult than she’d expected. She groped for the strap that was attached to the side of the truck and used it to haul herself upright. The change in position helped clear her head, but it brought fresh stinging from her waist to her armpit. Though she was no longer being tossed into the air as violently, the road was far from smooth. She felt every rut and pothole. Adding to her discomfort, the wind seemed to have increased since they’d started out, causing the truck to shake with each gust.

Eva took a cleansing breath, closed her eyes to gather her strength and concentrated on breathing shallowly through her mouth, using the same method for mastering pain that had gotten her through childbirth. If she could endure that, she could endure anything, especially a splinter.

Yet what kind of splinter would hurt this much? Or could have penetrated her winter coat? “What’s wrong?”

She opened her eyes to find that Sergeant Norton had returned and was kneeling in front of her. Although her vision had adjusted to the darkness, she still couldn’t see much more of him than his silhouette against the glow from the communication instruments. He looked large and hard, uncompromisingly male, and she had an insane impulse to lean into his chest and feel the shelter of his body once more.

Was she getting delirious? She reminded herself again not to take his concern personally. “How much longer before we reach the helicopter?” she demanded.

“A while yet,” he replied vaguely. He moved closer. “Dr. Petrova, I know you said you were fine, but you don’t look that well.”

“I believe I fell on some wood, that’s all.”

“Hey, Duncan,” he said over his shoulder. “Tell Kurt to ease up for a few minutes.”

“No can do, Jack. Weather’s getting uglier by the minute. We’ve got to hustle.”

“No!” Eva said at the same time. “There is no need to slow down on my account.”

He took a penlight from a pocket on the leg of his pants and clicked it on. “All right,” he said easily. “In the meantime, how about letting me check over the baby? I bet you wouldn’t argue with that.”

He was right. Eva should have thought of that herself. She looked at Katya. The mittens she’d knitted for her had fallen off, as had the cap. Her wispy hair gleamed almost white in the flashlight’s narrow beam, and her face was flushed from her fussing. The sudden light startled her to silence. She looked around restlessly until she spotted Eva’s face and gave a gurgle of recognition.

Eva managed a shaky smile. “There’s my brave girl,” she whispered.

“You did a good job with that carrier you rigged up.” Sergeant Norton pushed apart the edges of her coat as he spoke. “What did you use, anyway?”

“A sheet from my bed. I knew its absence wouldn’t be detected. I did not want to raise suspicions by taking Katya’s stroller.” She panted a few times. “If anyone notices we aren’t in our quarters they’ll assume we couldn’t have gone far.”

“That was good thinking. This carrier would have kept the kid as steady as a seat belt, anyway.” He directed the light at Katya while he ran his free hand over her head and back in a cursory examination. “Did you use the sheet for these extra sacks of stuff, too?”

“Yes. For the same reason.”

“They probably helped cushion her.” He wedged the flashlight between his knees and leaned forward to peel Eva’s coat off her shoulders. “Okay. Your turn.”

She attempted to pull away, but with her back against the side of the truck there was nowhere to go. “You said you were only checking Katya.”

“Hold still. I saw blood on one of those cloth sacks.”

Her heart froze. “Oh, God. No.”

“The blood must be yours, not the baby’s,” he said. “There’s none on that sling except where it goes around your side.” He pulled a folded knife from another pocket and flicked it open. Without any warning, he sliced through the strings that suspended the bundles of spare baby clothes.

She tried to bat his hand away. As she’d learned earlier, though, there was no budging him. “Stop. What are you doing? Katya needs those things.”

“I have to get rid of your cargo so I can see where the blood’s coming from.”

“No, it’s nothing. Just a splinter.”

As if she hadn’t spoken, he tossed the bundles aside. “Duncan,” he said, raising his voice. “Come over here and hold the kid for me.”

“Sorry, Jack,” he said, his fingers flying over the keyboard of a laptop computer. “I’m kind of busy right now.”

“Junior?”

The man at the tailgate shook his head without turning around. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know anything about babies.”

“What’s to know? Pretend she’s a bomb.”

“Nope. Bombs are more predictable.”

Eva crooked one arm around Katya. “She’ll be frightened without me. This isn’t necessary.”

Sergeant Norton frowned and looked at Eva. “I’m a medic. While I’m not a doctor, I have been trained in basic first aid.” He closed the knife with a flick of his wrist that made him look more like a hoodlum than a doctor. “And I intend to assess your wound.”

“No, I—”

“Ma’am, I understand you’re scared and for some reason you don’t want to admit that you’re hurt, but you’re going to have to trust me on this. You won’t be any good to your baby if you pass out from blood loss.”

She couldn’t argue with that reasoning. Not that she was going to trust him, but for Katya’s sake, she had to allow him to help her. That was the logical thing to do. And this was hardly the time to think of pride or modesty. Not with their survival at stake. Eva glanced past him at the other two men, but their attention appeared totally focused on their tasks. The window to the cab of the truck seemed too grimy to see through, even if the men in the front chose to look back. She pressed her lips together and gave a curt nod.

Sergeant Norton undid the knots that held the sling behind her neck and waist, then lifted Katya out. He supported the baby stiffly across both his palms for a moment, as if unsure what to do with her. Taking advantage of her sudden freedom, Katya began wriggling and kicking her feet. The nylon snowsuit she wore was slippery, causing him to juggle her awkwardly.

“Cup your hand under her head and lay her along your arm,” Eva said, motioning toward him. “Like an American football player.”

It took a few attempts for the sergeant to comprehend what she described. Finally, he managed to do as she instructed, tucking Katya’s legs under the crook of his elbow so he could hold her with only one hand. The baby looked tiny against his body, yet she was apparently happy with her new position. She brought her thumb to her mouth and stopped squirming.

As soon as Eva reassured herself that Katya was being held securely, the strength she’d managed to summon began to ebb. Without the warmth of her daughter against her chest, there was nothing to distract her from the pain that radiated across her ribs. She inhaled hard, then started the pattern of shallow panting once more.

Keeping the baby cradled against his side with one arm, Sergeant Norton clamped the flashlight between his teeth. With his free hand he pinched the lower edge of Eva’s sweater and pulled it upward.

Her blouse clung wetly to her skin. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as the fabric was peeled away. The stinging deepened. Something hot trickled down her side to the waistband of her pants.

He let the flashlight drop from his mouth. “This is getting to be a bad habit of yours, Dr. Petrova.”

Eva exhaled on a hiss. “What?”

“You’re trying to hide things under your coat again.”

“Sergeant, I’m not—”

“Save your breath, ma’am,” he said. His fingertips were featherlight as he touched her side. “It wasn’t any splinter that caused this wound. It was a bullet.”

The storm blew in faster than any of Duncan’s meteorological program models had predicted, and as luck would have it, they were driving straight into the thick of it. The packed dirt that served as the road had already disappeared beneath a layer of snow. It was falling so fast that Jack could barely see the tracks they’d left behind them. Kurt had reduced his speed to maintain control as the wind buffeted the truck, but they were no longer concerned about making the rendezvous. Until the storm let up, the chopper wouldn’t be coming. The objective now was to find somewhere to wait it out.

Jack let the tarp fall back into place and glanced over his shoulder. Eva had her eyes closed and was leaning against the side of the truck, but he knew she wasn’t sleeping because her hands were curled in a white-knuckled grip over the baby. At his insistence, she’d laid the kid on her lap instead of returning her to the bed-sheet carrier and strapping her back on. It was her only concession to the compress that Jack had taped over her ribs.

That woman was giving him one surprise after another. Jack couldn’t think of a single female of his acquaintance who would have even dreamt of concealing a bullet wound—or would have been capable of trying. Most men wouldn’t have endured it as stoically as Eva had. And to top it off, her main concern, once she’d learned she’d been shot, was to ensure that the bullet had missed her baby.