“Take care of what?” he prompted. She was reassuring him, trying to make his job easier.

“I know Elijah wants me dead. I know he sent you. You look so tired and sad. It was wrong of him to ask you.”

Rio swore softly, hunkering down beside her. Her eyes were glazed, dreamy even, but they carried intelligence. She believed he was there to kill her, yet she looked at him as if she felt sorry for him. “Why does Elijah want you dead?”

She blinked, her breath catching in her throat on a wave of pain. “Does it matter? Just get it over with.”

“You’re just going to let me kill you?” For some reason her apathy made him furious. She was going to lie there and encourage him to take her life? He wanted to shake her.

That same little smile tugged at her mouth. She seemed far away again, slowly turning her head away from him. “Even if you handed me a very large stick I wouldn’t be able to lift it. I’ll have to pass on being that take-forty-seven-kicks-in-the-ribs-and-keep-on-going heroine. I don’t think I can lift my head.”

He leaned closer. “Rachael? You’re with me again.” She sounded like the woman who had bashed him in the head.

“Was I gone?” She closed her eyes. “I wish I hadn’t come back. What’s wrong with me? Where did I go?”

“You’ve been rambling. I have no choice, I have to work on your leg.”

“Then get to it. You’re so tired you’re going to fall on your face if you don’t get it done.” She made an effort to lift her lashes and study his face beneath heavy lids. “I’m not going to blame you if it hurts.” Her eyes were clear and in that moment lucid. “I don’t want to lose my leg, so by all means, do whatever is necessary to save it.”

Rio wasn’t going to talk about it any longer. Distaste for the ugly task glimmered in his eyes as he bent over her leg. The wound had to be lanced, thoroughly washed, cauterized and packed with more antibiotics. He had performed the surgery once out in the field when a friend had been shot and was bleeding profusely and the chopper couldn’t pick them up immediately. Small beads of sweat dotted his body, then ran into his eyes to blur his vision as he placed the blade of his knife in the flames.