“We have to get Sammy. He’s in the gorge and might be hurt. Gilmont arrived before I found him.”

“Sammy’s fine.”

Harry placed his hands on both sides of her face and kissed her, this time much more thoroughly. Her heart raced, but this time for an entirely different reason.

Harry eased back marginally, still keeping a firm grip on her body. “I sent him to collect tadpoles in a more secure area along the river.”

“You had Sammy?” Elise could hardly take it in. “He’s safe?”

“Yes. Unless he’s managed to fall into the water during the last half hour.”

“I looked everywhere for him. I thought he’d fallen into the gorge.” Her body shook, and she offered up a silent prayer, grateful beyond words that Harry and Sammy were unharmed.

Taking herself in hand, Elise motioned toward the fallen man. “Gilmont shot him. I need to use my shirt to stop the bleeding.” She unzipped her jacket and motioned for Harry to close his eyes.

Dutifully, Harry turned away while she pulled off her T-shirt and rezipped her jacket.

She tapped his leg. “I’m decent.”

Harry lifted her to her feet and slipped an arm around her waist to help her hobble to the unconscious man. While she busied herself tearing strips off her shirt, Harry used one of the pieces to make a pad and put pressure on her leg.

“How are we going to get Sammy?” she asked.

“The jet pack battery has enough charge for me to reach him,” Harry said against the side of her face. “We’ll hike back.”

She pointed to Gilmont’s compatriot. “What about him? We can’t carry him out of here.”

“Nigel will be along soon. I sent him our coordinates.”

Chapter 36

Elise sat on the examination table in the Pitlochry Care Clinic. Despite her protests, Harry and Sammy had crowded into the small room with her. She focused on the glass jar of tadpoles beside the sink while the doctor stitched her up.

“You were lucky your leather was so thick, Miss Taylor. Another quarter inch and you would have suffered major tissue damage.”

“Yet another reason why I love black leather,” Harry murmured under his breath.

Her leg throbbed and burned like fire, and the blasted man was doing his darndest to make her laugh? Sammy was no better. In his usual macabre style, he practically breathed down the doctor’s neck while he observed the stitching process.

“Can she feel the blood dripping down her leg? What’s that white stuff inside? Is that her guts?”

Honestly, the lad should be throttled for disappearing on her as he had. And yet, if Sammy hadn’t taken off to find his beastly pollywogs, Gilmont would have killed him if he had found them together.

“That should do it.” The doctor applied ointment, then bandaged her up. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.” The door shut behind him.