With her and two large men, the tiny room, with its sink, shower and toilet, was tight quarters. Elle used her hip to bump Rune aside, dug into a small cabinet and found a new roll of toilet paper. She lowered the toilet lid and pointed at Adam. He seated himself. She took the shirt away, dropped it on the floor and used a wad of the paper to blot Adam’s wound. Dampening a clean washcloth, she washed the smear of blood off his skin. “The bleeding has already slowed.” Her frantic heartbeat had slowed, too.

Adam was not seriously wounded. He would recover.

“I clot well,” Adam said with dry amusement.

Rune fluttered her hands and moaned. “How bad...?”

“He was grazed, nothing more,” Elle said reassuringly. “Four inches, and the heat of the bullet cauterized the edges of the wound.” Turning to the medicine cabinet, Elle scanned the shelves and located a roll of sterile gauze and tape. “If we butterfly the deepest part together, someone can easily stitch the edges.”

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Adam observed.

“I do, don’t I?” Elle thoroughly washed her hands, then went to work opening packages of gauze and tearing tape to fit.

“Can you stitch it?” Adam asked.

“You’re not serious!” Rune was horrified.

Elle got her knees and examined every inch of the wound. “I could try.”

Rune wrung her hands. “If you’ll wait a little longer, the sheriff or a deputy and some kind of emergency crew will be here.”

“Maybe Elle’s a doctor,” Adam said. “Have you thought of that?”

“No.” Rune seemed quite definite. “She’s not old enough. I’ve known a lot of doctors, and she isn’t the type.”

“There’s a type?” Adam teased Rune gently.

“Adam, with your free hand, can you pull the edges together?” Elle turned to Rune. “Do you have silk thread?”

“Yes, I have to repair my shawls and—” Rune took a breath and slowed down. “Yes. I do.”

“Can you get some for me?” Elle asked. “And a fine needle?”

“Yes.” Rune stuck her head out of the bathroom door, pulled it back like a turtle, peeked out again and left in a rush.

Elle worked quickly, creating the butterfly bandage and applying it to the leading edge.

Rune returned with a sewing basket decorated with faded plastic flowers. Opening it, she pulled out a thread organizer, found the spool she wanted and handed it to Elle.

“Now a fine needle,” Elle said.

“You really intend to...” Rune faltered.

“Yes.” Elle already knew where Adam was going with this, and it would be ungrateful of her to refuse to help him.

Rune found a needle and a small pair of sewing scissors. Her hands shook when she offered them to Elle.

“Adam, can you thread the needle?”

He did.

“I wish you’d wait on the professionals,” Rune fretted. “They’ll be here soon.”