He quickly exchanged names with the team. Daniel, a paramedic, was a muscular man in his twenties with the grip of a bear trap. He hauled a trunk-sized mobile crash cart over to where Cap lay, carrying it as if it were a toy. Julie Bellet carried a much smaller case, which Lou assumed held instruments. She was an attractive woman, perhaps in her early fifties, silver-haired, fit and intense. She made a brief survey of their patient, focusing for a few extra seconds on the splint and tourniquet. Then, straight-lipped, she looked over at Lou and minutely nodded her approval.

The pilot, Captain Dorothy Tompkins according to her name tag, was a slender five-six or -seven, maybe thirty-five, with short chestnut hair, and an EMT patch on her sleeve. She and Daniel removed a stretcher from the back of the aircraft, carrying it still folded over the damp, soft soil before snapping it open. For Lou, watching the team work was like immersing himself in the music of a top-notch jazz trio.

“Stay close, Dr. Welcome,” Bellet said, “in case we need another set of hands.”

Doubtful, Lou thought, realizing at the same time that if they needed him, there was serious trouble.

Floyd’s wife had supplied him with a tattered flannel work shirt and a pair of hand-sewn cotton pants that fit him just fine. She and Floyd stood well off to one side, reminding Lou of the stoic farm couple in American Gothic. Just another typical day in the forest.

“Squeeze my hand if you can hear me, Mr. Duncan,” Bellet was saying, her voice calm and unhurried. “You’re going to be okay, my friend. We just have to get you stabilized and then over to the chopper. If I do anything that hurts you, just signal me.”

“Lou … comes … too…,” Cap managed.

“We got room for one patient and one passenger, Mr. Duncan,” Daniel said, fixing oxygen prongs and a cervical collar in place. “You want this one, you got him. Besides, after seeing that splint and that litter, we’ll be making him an honorary member of the team anyway.”

“Me, too,” Cap said, smiling around nearly clenched teeth. “I … helped.”

“We’ll get you a set of wings when you’re settled in the ER at Arbor General. Okay, a little stick, now.”

The IV, hooked to a large-bore catheter, was in and taped down faster than a Cap Duncan jab.

“You make these?” Daniel asked Lou, gesturing to the makeshift contraptions as he took down the dressing.

“All three of us,” Lou said as if apologizing for the workmanship. “We were pretty desperate.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been doing this job for five years and I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I was taught by paramedics.”