Free Raphaela's Gift by Sydney Allan

shoulders, shook his head. "Everything's with the raft."
    "Damn! We need to lay him down," Garret said as he eased the boy flat on his back. "I may need a tourniquet. A stick and some rope. And find something to warm him," he told Faith.
    Faith nodded. "I'll see what I can find." She ran from him, and Garret returned his attention to the boy, determined not to give into his fears. Cursing himself for coming down there in the first place, he checked the boy's foot. It was cold and blue. He guessed the fractured bone had severed an artery, the blood loss causing the child's shock.
    Faith returned with a collection of sticks. "I can't find anything to warm him. Everyone's clothes are wet and cold. And I couldn't find any rope."
    Garret nodded and stripped his shirt off. Then he looked at Faith, eyed her dress, and asked, "Would you mind donating a bit of your dress?"
    She smiled and stood. "Absolutely not."
    He ripped a strip from the bottom, wrapped it around the child's thigh, and, gritting his teeth in fear, tightened it by knotting it around the stick and twisting the stick. The bleeding from the wound stopped. And the tiniest trickle of relief eased down his spine. He sat back to catch his breath.
    Faith kneeled next to him and eased the boy out of his life jacket and sodden shirt and laid Garret's dry shirt over him.
    "Now what do we do?" she asked, her eyes searching his.
    He dropped his gaze to the ground, certain she would see his fear, sense the fact that he didn't know what the hell he was doing
    The nurse huddled next to him. "What do you think, doc? Do we splint the leg? Or would that damage it more?"
    Hell if I know! They were all looking at him now. Faith, the nurse, the rafters, the kid's terrified parents. Like he was their savior. Like he knew how to treat every damn trauma. He was a psychiatrist, damn it. He treated depression, bipolar disorder, and eating disorders. He didn't set broken legs…or cure autism.
    "Garret?" Faith repeated, laying her hand on his shoulder again. He glanced at her, saw the worry in her face. Her mouth was drawn taut, her eyelids heavy. "Can I help you splint the leg?" she asked, nodding.
    He returned her nod. "Yes." He showed her where to hold the boy's leg so it wouldn't move and carefully wrapped scraps of her dress around it and some sticks running down both sides to hold it steady. He didn't breathe until it was done.
    Then, he stood, turning back toward the nurse. "Can I ask you something?"
    "Yeah."
    "You take kids on the rafts?"
    "Yeah, we do it all the time. This river's pretty safe this time of year, but I wouldn't take them in the spring, or on any of the other rivers we raft, though."
    "Don't do it again."
    The young man stepped back.
    Garret took a deep breath. "Don't take a kid on the river again!"
    "Look man, that's not my call. I just work for the rafting company. They book the trips, and they make the rules. My job is to make sure the tourists have a good time and make it down the river alive."
    "You almost failed," Garret growled. "This kid's hurt, could lose his leg. How the hell would you feel about that?"
    Faith squeezed Garret's arm, leaned close, and whispered, "You're not going to change anything this way. I agree with you one hundred percent, but this is not the way to handle it. Besides, his parents are the ones who made the decision, not this man. And I'm sure you don't want them feeling any worse than they already do."
    Garret's gaze met Faith's again. "What kind of parent would send their kid down a raging river on a flimsy raft?"
    "I know, I know." Her expression was sincere.
    After the rescue helicopter arrived and dropped a basket as it hovered overhead, Garret and Faith picked up the boy and gently fastened him in with the paramedic's help, then stepped back as the paramedic helped each parent board. A hand gently rested upon Garret's shoulder as he watched the helicopter rise above the treetops. Once the chopper was out of sight, Garret eagerly turned