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in this, so they’ll know we went over that cliff. Going into the river is a mighty bad thing. I’d like to put her mind at ease as soon as possible.”
    Shannon nodded, then climbed to her feet, careful not to look at Tucker for fear he’d offer to help her up and she’d let him touch her.
    She really didn’t know exactly how she was supposed to behave around him. Every joint and muscle in her body ached, but she did her best not to show it and got to her feet just as Tucker stood, gasped, and fell right back onto his backside.
    She had to look at him now. “What’s wrong?”
    Tucker was ashen under his dark tan, gripping his left leg with both hands, his teeth gritted. He shook his head, looking at his leg. “I hurt so bad all over, I didn’t realize—”
    He quit talking and let go of his leg, as if he had to force each finger to move, and reached for his pant cuff. Rolling it up, Shannon’s stomach swooped, and she wished she hadn’t eaten that jerky.
    He wore knee-high moccasins, laced up the side, and even with that his ankle was swollen so big the soft leather was cutting into the skin. In fact, if they weren’t real lucky it might’ve cut the blood off completely, and if that’d been going on all night, he could be in danger of losing his foot.
    Shannon dropped to her knees, glad for an excuse, since they were wobbly. It’s a good thing he was wearing the odd Indian shoes because she could loosen them fast. Even all the way open, the moccasin was still tight, but it was better.
    “I’ve had some training in doctoring during the war,” Shannon said. “If it’s broken, I can splint it. If I have to, I can hike out of here alone.” If there was a way out. “Then I’ll make you a crutch and—”
    “Shannon!”
    She looked straight into his shining blue eyes. Brighter than hers. “What?”
    “What do you mean ‘during the war’?”
    “During the Civil War. I got assigned to a doctor, I—”
    “I admit,” he said, cutting her off, “I’ve spent most of my life a long way from people, but I’ve never heard that they let women get involved in a war.”
    “Well, they let me.”
    “And why would you do a blamed fool thing like that?”
    Shannon probably should protest being called a blamed fool, except she agreed with him. “Well, that is a long story,and not one that shows me to have a lot of sense, I’m afraid. We really don’t know each other very well, Matthew Tucker. Can we leave aside talking about ourselves until I get your foot taken care of?”
    Tucker flinched and looked at his swollen leg. “Probably a good idea.” He lay flat on the cave floor as if getting as far away from his foot as possible.
    Shannon finished loosening the laces as much as possible, gritted her teeth. He had a woolen sock under the moccasin. She tugged it away from Tucker’s leg. It had been pressed into his skin until his flesh was embedded with the pattern of wool.
    When she thought she had things as relaxed as she could, she said, “What I can see of your ankle is pure white. The circulation looks bad. The moccasin’s got to come off. I think I can pull it off. I’ll cut it if I have to, but that will hurt real bad. It’s tough leather and—”
    “Just do it.” Tucker didn’t seem interested in hearing her talk, while Shannon wanted to talk a long time, put off what she was going to do. The leather had no real heel. There was no way to get ahold of it. Yet it was too tight to leave on.
    Shannon swallowed hard, remembered amputating limbs back in the war to goad herself into doing what she could to prevent having to do that to Tucker. She made quick, brutal work of divesting Tucker of his moccasin.
    He curled so far forward he almost smacked his head into hers, but he never made a sound. A tough man. She was so impressed she wanted to hug him, which she absolutely did not do.
    Once the moccasin was free, he sank back to the floor with a hard gasp and just lay there, limp.
    She said in a voice