Turning Point Read Online Free PDF Page A

kitchen, then fetch Jack Reynolds. He’ll know what to do.”
    Her brother sighed.
    â€œWell, move over. I can’t do anything with you wrapped around him like a blanket, can I?”
    Carrie moved back and her brother hefted the injured animal into his arms and headed toward the kitchen door.
    â€œAnd, Richard, please hurry,” she added, steering him through the doorway and over to the table. She swept the various cutlery and dishes aside for him. “I’m sure he must be in a great deal of pain.”
    â€œWe don’t know these animals well enough to treat them with any success, Carrie,” Richard warned, setting the cat down gently on the table. He hesitated. “I don’t like leaving you alone with him. What happens if he goes for you?”
    â€œHe won’t,” said Carrie confidently as she ruffled the creature’s ears.
    Richard looked down at him for a moment. His sides moved rapidly with shallow breathing, his ribs stood out against the tautly stretched fur. The eyes were closed now, and from between his teeth Richard could see the tip of a pale pink tongue. Unless he had help, very shortly, this cat would be dead.
    â€œI’m going,” he said, heading back outside.
    Fetching hot water and disinfectant, Carrie busied herself with cleaning Kusac’s wound, her own forgotten.
    â€œCarrie! What on earth are you doing down here, and with your coat on? You shouldn’t even be out of ... oh, my God!”
    â€œIt’s all right,” said Carrie, turning round to look at Meg.
    â€œHe’s hurt, and he isn’t dangerous. Richard’s gone for Jack.”
    â€œI don’t care! Get it out of my kitchen!” Meg said, her voice rising hysterically.
    â€œNo,” Carrie said doggedly. “He stays. Don’t worry, it’ll be all right, you’ll see.” She turned her attention back to her inexpert swabbing.
    â€œGet him out of my kitchen,” repeated Meg, her voice rising a couple of octaves.
    â€œIt isn’t your kitchen, Meg,” Carrie replied quietly, a portion of her mind taken aback at her newfound determination.
    A buzzer sounded, its insistent tone ignored by both women.
    â€œWhat did you say?”
    The silence lengthened till Carrie broke it. “I think that’s the taproom. Hadn’t you better see who it is?”
    The door closed too quietly behind her as Meg left.
    Carrie sluiced her cloth so energetically that water splashed everywhere. Damn! Why had she spoken to Meg like that? Since they’d landed on Keiss, Meg, also bereaved by the same malfunction which had killed their mother, had lived with them more as a loved aunt than a housekeeper. She hadn’t deserved that comment.
    I’ve got to save him, though, she thought. I don’t know why, but he’s important.
    She went back to cleaning the wound, finding it soothing to do something that required no thought.
    She had just about finished when her brother returned with the town’s medical expert.
    â€œMorning, Carrie,” Jack said, stamping the snow off his boots. “I hear you’ve got an interesting patient for me.” He gave her a calculating glance as he took off his parka and gloves, handing them to Richard before moving over to examine her.
    Jack was a short man, almost on the tubby side, with a thatch of thick gray-brown hair crowning a face resembling that of a middle-aged faun.
    â€œI must admit I didn’t expect to find you awake yet, let alone running a rescue mission,” he said, taking her by the wrist to check her pulse. “But then, what should I expect of someone with your recuperative powers? Trying to sedate you is like felling an elephant, and you still manage to come round far too soon! How do you feel?”
    â€œFine,” she said absently, her attention obviously not on him.
    â€œI’ll check your hands before I leave, my dear. You’ve got the bandages soaking