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him for a hug. She’d felt the same chemistry he had between them and hugs plus chemistry equalled trouble for a woman who claimed to be immune to love and who was fresh out of trust.
    ‘I’ll check our patient, then we should try to get some sleep,’ he said, standing up and moving back into the cave. ‘There are a couple more of those space blankets in the pack. It could get cold towards morning.’
    Grateful to have something to do, Kate also stood. She’d noticed a couple more packs of the flimsy silver sheets they called space blankets when she’d pulled one out to cover Jack. She was aware they prevented heat loss from the body but was dubious about how warm they’d be if the night grew cold. Still, it was something to do and having something to do was important because it stopped her thinking about the mess her life was in. She’d talked bravely to Hamish of having to do this on her own, but it was the aloneness of her situation—the total stripping away of all she’d believed to be true—that frightened her the most. Far more than a man with a gun somewhere out there in the darkness of the gorge.
    Hamish was attaching a new bag of fluid to one of Jack’s IV lines. He nodded towards the blood-stained bandage.
    ‘I’m just hoping it’s not running out faster than it runs in.’
    ‘Should we give him a clotting agent of some kind—or don’t the packs carry such things?’
    ‘They contain Thrombostat, which is topical thrombin. I put some on when I was dressing the wound. Because of Lucky,everyone at the hospital knows a lot more about von Willebrand’s disease than most non-specialist physicians would but I don’t know as much as I’d like to know. I know some coagulants work for some haemophilic patients and not others, depending on the missing blood factor in their particular disease. I wouldn’t like to try anything on him without checking a pharmacology text for contraindications or complications …’
    He paused and sighed, but Kate understood his dilemma.
    ‘You don’t want to take the risk,’ she finished for him. ‘Well, hopefully the thrombin will work well enough to stop some of the bleeding.’
    ‘Externally!’ Hamish reminded her, hanging the second fresh bag of fluid. ‘Internally we haven’t a clue what’s happening. Damn that Digger for not leaving Jack’s gear with him. He’d have some kind of coagulation drug in it for sure, probably an inhalant.’
    ‘Unless he didn’t know he had von Willebrand’s. Some people don’t, do they?’
    Hamish nodded. He was counting respirations. Their patient would make it through the night, he was sure of that. And providing they could stem the infection, he would recover from this wound. What he wasn’t sure about was what would happen after that. Lucky was the hospital’s miracle baby, but his mother, Megan, and her family had been going through a rough time for years, and now, right when it looked as if things might be coming good for them, Lucky’s father could end up in jail.
    Hamish looked out into the darkness. Kate’s idea of finding the cattle duffers and bringing them to justice was suddenly very appealing.
    And
very stupid, he admitted to himself, but he turned to study the spunky woman who’d suggested it. She was unfolding a space blanket, her head bent as she concentrated on spreading it out, neat white teeth biting the corner of her lowerlip. He saw her again as he’d first seen her, and heard her voice saying ‘piffle’ in a no-nonsense way to Jack.
    You don’t fall in love because of a sunbeam turning brown curls golden, or because a husky voice says ‘piffle.’ But if he wasn’t in love then he must be sickening for something. Elevated heart rate, shallow respiration, a slightly nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if something disagreeable was lurking there—and all this without taking into consideration the stirring in his groin whenever he looked at the woman.
    She’s not interested, he