it a firm statement.
The boy looked around as if expecting someone to pop out of the jungle. “No one help. Afraid.”
Chance shook his head. “Then I’m sorry.”
Ellen gave him a pleading look. “Chance, we have to help.”
“My first concern is the staff of this clinic, their safety. Leaving this area would not be safe. The drug traffickers have free rein. We don’t even know the boy is telling the truth.”
“He die. Please.” The boy looked from Ellen to Chance and back again, tears forming in his eyes. “It not far. Promise.”
“We have to help him,” Ellen begged.
Chance was torn. If it was true he wanted to give the help. But what if it was a trap?
Ellen grabbed his arm and squeezed as she looked at him.
“How far?” Chance asked the boy.
He said a village name Chance wasn’t familiar with.
By this time Marco had joined them. Chance looked at him, “How far?”
“Ten-minute walk,” Marco said.
“Okay, I’ll get supplies and you get my to-go bag.” Ellen left before he could say more.
“Should be safe. I send Ricco with you.” Marco waved Ricco over.
“Tell me what happened to your father and what part of his body has been hurt,” Chance said in rapid Spanish to the boy. Heaven help them if they ran into trouble. He’d let his better judgment be overshadowed by Ellen’s beautiful eyes. That unrestricted, forge-forward determination might get them all into trouble. Yet he felt the pull to go as well. There was a patient who needed his help regardless of the danger.
Ellen hurried into the clinic tent and snatched up Chance’s bag then headed for the supply van. At first she’d been angry with him for hesitating to help the boy’s father. As far as she was concerned, if a person was hurt you had to do whatever was needed to take care of them. Chance’s hardline stance didn’t impress her. As he spoke more to the boy she saw the sympathy in his eyes. It wasn’t that Chance didn’t want to go, it was more that he was responsible for everyone and couldn’t make snap decisions. The fact they were going showed that Chance really did care.
Grabbing suture kits, she stuffed them in his bag. She took a couple of bottles of saline out of a storage basket. Finding a spare backpack by the shelf, Ellen dropped the bottles in. She added additional supplies that from her experience might be needed.
Chance entered the van. “I need to get some antibiotics. The boy says his father was shot in the leg.”
Ellen stood, letting Chance come behind her. Their bodies bumped in the close quarters. Minutes later, they had what they thought they might need. She left the van first, with him right behind.
“Hand me that backpack,” he ordered.
“I can carry it.” Ellen offered him his to-go bag instead.
Chance glared at her. “You’re not going. Ricco and I will handle this.”
“Ricco has medical experience now? How’s he supposed to handle a gun at the same time he’s helping you? I’m going.” Ellen watched his mouth form a tight line. He wasn’t going to agree.
“Peter or Karen—”
Ellen huffed. “Karen couldn’t keep up the pace and Peter is needed here. We can stand around and argue about this while a man is dying or we can get going.” She turned to leave the tent.
He grabbed her under the arm, jerking her round to face him. “You can go only if you agree to follow my orders to the letter. No arguments. No going rogue. Either you agree or you stay here. This is still my clinic and my call.”
She glared at him and said through her teeth, “I promise to do as you say.”
Chance searched her face. “Okay, let’s go take care of this patient.”
Ellen had no doubt that he didn’t like the idea of her going but he recognized he clearly needed her help. She adjusted the pack on her back as he slung the strap of his bag across his chest. At a lope he crossed the clearing and Ellen followed close behind.
“You ready?” Chance asked Ricco, who nodded. “Ellen, I want you between Ricco and me.”
She moved into position.
To the boy Chance said, “Take us to your father.”
The boy dipped his head under a large leaf and moved into the jungle. Chance followed with Ellen and seconds behind her Ricco. The path was little more than a foot wide. She wouldn’t have even said there was one if she hadn’t been behind Chance. As they walked he held leaves and vines back. She accepted them and did the same for Ricco.
“Stay close and don’t speak unless necessary,” Chance hissed over his shoulder.
Underfoot was dark packed dirt crisscrossed with roots. Her boots were so new they didn’t make the best hiking wear. A couple of times she caught a toe on a root but righted herself before she tripped. Once Ricco caught her arm before she fell.
Another time Chance stopped and she bumped into his back. He cautiously looked around. The boy was standing a few feet in front of him, looking down the path. They waited then moved forward at a slower pace. Finally, they broke out of the jungle into an open space next to a creek with five small huts. The roofs were pieces of tin or plastic tarps peaked just enough for rain to roll off. The walls were little more than uneven boards wired together to form a square. The boy led them through knee-high grass to one of the stacks closest to the water.
He stepped through an opening into a hut that had no door. Chance and she followed. Ricco stayed on guard outside. The sun was almost over the horizon, making it dark inside. The boy told a woman there that he had brought the doctors.
Ellen could make out someone lying on an old mattress on the dirt floor across the room. Chance was already stepping that way and Ellen joined him.
“We have to have some light here.” He sounded exasperated as he went down on his knees to speak to the barely conscious man.
Ellen pulled off the backpack, opened it and removed a flashlight. Clicking it on, she held it over Chance’s head.
He glanced up. “Well done, Ellen. I should have known you’d consider the details.”
She couldn’t help but be pleased with his praise.
“Can you point the light toward the left some?”
Ellen did as he requested. From her vantage point she could see the dark-skinned man was maybe thirty, dressed in a torn shirt with baggy shorts. One leg of the pants was pulled high on his leg. Below that on his thigh were two dirty rags covered in blood. Even if they could help him, fighting infection would be the larger battle.
“Look
