Coming Up Roses by Catherine Anderson Read Free Book Online

as good as dead and just too stubborn to quit kicking.
    He felt her trying to work his jeans down over his hips. For the life of him, he couldn't push up to help her.
    Damned fool woman. She didn't know when to quit any more than he did. When she finally stopped tugging on his britches, Zach strained to lift his head.
    "Would you do me one favor?" he managed to ask.
    For some reason, everything went clear and unnaturally bright for a second, and Zach could see her pale face.
    Her gaze clung to his. "Anything, Mr. McGovern. All you need do is ask."
    He worked his mouth for some spit so he could swallow. God, he wanted a drink. "Toss a stick of lit dynamite into that well. If I've gotta go, I want to take those god-damned snakes to hell with me."
    "You're not going to hell, or to heaven either, for that matter," she informed him in a determined voice. "You're going to live, Mr. McGovern."
    "Rattler bites are fatal," he mumbled.
    "These won't be. Not if I have anything to say about it."
     
    * * *
     
    Using her sewing scissors, Kate cut McGovern's jeans and underwear straight up the front crease of each leg and laid them open like the peeling on a banana. She counted four bites, three deep, one superficial. His last words rang in her head. Rattler bites are fatal . She thanked God he was unconscious. What she had to do would be excruciatingly painful. Shoving the denim aside, she sheered off his long underwear to the length of a boy's shorts and shoved the knit cotton high on his thighs.
     
    Unable to spare a moment to comfort Miranda who stood sobbing by the bed, Kate dashed to the kitchen, grabbed the butcher knife, and sterilized it as best she could in the cookstove fire. As she exited the kitchen, she grabbed the broom. By the time she returned to the bedroom, Mr. McGovern's lips had begun to turn blue, his tanned face a pasty color. Jerking back the counterpane, she seized hold of the bedsheet and slashed off several strips to serve as tourniquets.
    "Get back, Miranda."
    Holding the broom at an angle, Kate struck it sharply with the heel of her shoe. The length of wood snapped in two. She repeated the process until she had several pieces broken into manageable lengths. She made fast work of making tourniquets on McGovern's thighs between the puncture wounds and his torso.
    She swiped sweat from her brow and glanced up. "Miranda, I want you to go out to the barn, find the big milking bucket, and fill it with dirt for me."
    Miranda dragged a frightened gaze from the fang marks on Mr. McGovern's swollen legs. "Is he gonna die, Ma?"
    "Not if you hurry and do as I say."
    Miranda bolted for the doorway. The instant she was out of sight, Kate went to work on Zachariah McGovern with the knife. When she had made all the necessary incisions, she dropped to her knees and placed her mouth over one of the bites. She didn't know if it was the steely muscle that roped his thigh or the tautness of his swollen flesh, but it was nearly impossible for her to get suction. She worked the skin, took a long draw and then spat. Gently, gently . She knew she mustn't bruise the tissue surrounding the wound or it would slough off later.
    The seconds sped into minutes. In such a hurry that she scarcely paused between suckles to breathe, Kate began to feel lightheaded. She continued working. This man had saved her daughter's life, and she could do no less for him.
    When she had sucked the bites as clean as she could get them, she gently worked the surrounding flesh so the wounds would continue to bleed. Then she mixed a thick mud paste with the dirt Miranda had collected, praying she wasn't doing the wrong thing as she globbed the mixture onto McGovern's legs. She recalled hearing that animals bitten by venomous snakes went to mudholes and submerged themselves. Mud had drawing properties.
    If it worked for animals, pray God it would work on a man.
    Exhausted, Kate rubbed her hands clean and stood beside the bed, trying to think of something else she