In the Heart of the Canyon - By Elisabeth Hyde Page 0,23

was on my back!”

“Your mouth is bleeding,” Lloyd said. “Get my suture kit,” he told Dixie.

“Maybe let’s take care of the leg first,” said Dixie.

Lloyd straightened up. “Don’t talk to me that way, missy!”

“We’ll get your suture kit, Lloyd,” said JT. “Abo, get his suture kit.” Abo nodded gravely and shifted positions.

“It’ll be all right, Ruthie,” Lloyd assured her.

All her life Ruth had punished herself when anyone in the family got hurt. Always she could trace it to some act of carelessness on her part. It was no different now. She should have been watching for the dog. And it was only the second day of the trip!

“I should have been watching out,” she said ruefully.

“How’d the dog get loose, anyway?” asked Dixie.

“Where’d this dog come from; that’s the important question right now!” Lloyd exclaimed. “What’s a dog doing down in the Grand Canyon?”

People exchanged glances.

“JT found the dog last night,” Ruth told him, patting his hand. “Remember? In the bushes?”

“Is this all the gauze we have?” JT asked.

Sam tapped Ruth’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” said Matthew.

“Did you boys untie the dog?” Mark demanded.

“Sam did it,” said Matthew.

It was true. Sam had actually unfastened the knot.

JT was still fumbling through the first aid box. “Who packed this kit? We usually have tons of gauze. Go check the com boxes,” he told Dixie. “How’re you doing, Ruth?”

“Oh, me,” scoffed Ruth. “I’m doing fine.”

“Drink.”

Lloyd held the water bottle for her, and she drank again, still tasting blood. She hated being the center of attention, especially for an injury. Whatever it was, it would stop bleeding. It would heal. They shouldn’t be fussing over her. She was wasting everyone’s time when they should be enjoying lunch.

She sat up and shaded her eyes from the sun and looked at the blood-soaked square of gauze JT held against her leg. “Let me see.”

JT lifted the gauze. It wasn’t a clean split but rather a raw, messy wound. She saw grit and pink flesh, then a sudden flush of blood. JT pressed the gauze back. Ruth, who had tended to many cuts and abrasions while raising two children, reminded herself that wounds could look more serious than they really were. There was just a lot of blood here. They would clean it and bandage it up, and she would be fine.

She had to be fine.

Because if she wasn’t, who would take care of Lloyd?

12

Day Two

Mile 20

After bandaging Ruth’s leg, after wolfing down the rest of his sandwich and making sure the dog was tied up and privately explaining to Sam and Matthew how important it was to follow the Trip Leaders instructions, and if the Trip Leader said tie up the dog, it didn’t mean let the dog loose—after all that, JT called Park Service again. But now, even more than before, the ranger succeeded in making him feel like an imposition, rather than a guide looking out for the health and safety of his passengers and the canyon itself.

“What’d the ranger say?” Mitchell asked after JT hung up.

“He’s got other things to deal with, Mitchell.”

Mitchell nodded, reflecting on this for a moment. “Well,” he said, “I guess we just roll with the punches.”

“That’s right, Mitchell.”

“You sound tired.”

“Nah.” Though he was.

“Don’t worry,” said Mitchell, and he leaned forward and clapped JT’s arm. “We’ll figure this one out.”

JT glanced up. Mitchell’s large dark glasses made it impossible to see the man’s eyes, but JT could hear in his voice a concern for others that surprised him.

“Thank you, Mitchell,” said JT. “Did you get enough lunch?”

“It was terrific. You guys are doing a terrific job.”

JT managed a smile. He did a little better with private compliments but still felt bashful.

“Better put some more sunscreen on your nose,” he told Mitchell. “You’re looking a little red.”

Their lunch spot was at the mouth of a side canyon, so after cleaning up, Abo and Dixie led a group on a short hike. JT stayed with the boats, mainly to keep an eye on Ruth. He built a kind of hospital bed for her out of sleeping pads, with dry bags as bolsters. Out on the river the kayakers glided by; they waved and he waved back, and then he lay down on his own mat. He positioned his hat over his face, hoping he might drop off for a few moments, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the dog. They were five days from Phantom Ranch, where he might be able to convince someone to hike the dog out. But