Beau shook his head at the mom to stop her tug-of-war with her son. “Liam, how old are you?”
“He’s five.”
“Five an’ a half,” Liam corrected with a sniffle.
“So you’re a pretty big boy.” He slid his phone out of his pocket and hit a couple keys. “Do you play Minecraft?”
“Uh-huh, b-but I loosed my pri-pribleges ’cause I gave Kitty a haircut.”
Beau’s lips curved at the confession, and Savannah felt some of her worry drain away. He wouldn’t smile and talk video games with the kid in the midst of a true medical crisis. Would he?
“Well, that’ll definitely do it,” Beau sympathized. “But this is a special circumstance. Think Mom will grant a temporary reprieve?”
“Of course,” she said.
“Awesome.” He held his phone out to the boy. “We’re in creative mode and this looks like a really good world. I see trees, and water, and…hey…are those cows or pigs?”
Liam reached for the phone with both hands. “Pigs! See? They’re pink.”
Beau adjusted the screen higher, so Liam was forced to raise his head. “You gotta hold it up here. How many pigs do you see?” He asked the question while he gently moved Liam’s blood-matted bangs away from his forehead.
“Tons.” He tapped the screen repeatedly. “I’m building a fence ’round them.”
“Good thinking. While you do that, I’m going to check your head, okay?”
“’Kay,” he said, still tapping the screen. “I got an owie.”
“I know. I’ll be careful.”
&
nbsp; While Beau used a napkin to clean around the wound, he spoke to the mom, who’d turned pale to the lips as soon as he’d started mopping up the blood. “Mrs.?”
“Beth. I’m Beth.”
“Hi, Beth. Do you have a compact or mirror in your purse?”
“A mirror? Um…yes. I do.” She grabbed her purse from the back of her chair and dug through it. “Here,” she held it out to him.
“Great. You hold on to that. Savannah?”
She was so lost in watching him work it took her a moment to realize he’d said her name. “Yes?”
“Meet Beth. Beth, this is my fr—my fiancée, Savannah. You’ve got some blood on your face and neck. Would you mind if Savannah scared up a glass of water and some more napkins to help you wash up?”
“Oh. Gosh. No.” She glanced at Savannah. “I’d appreciate it.”
“No worries. I’ll be right back.” She’d barely taken a step when a waitress appeared and handed her a glass of water and several napkins. She crouched beside Beth, put the glass of water on the floor, and traded the napkins for Beth’s small silver compact. She held the mirror and the other woman scrubbed off what she could. Beau kept up a low running commentary. “I see the cut. It’s a little less than an inch long and about a quarter-inch deep.”
“Goodness, it’s much smaller than I imagined.” Relief put a quaver in Beth’s voice. “With all the blood, I thought laceration, skull fracture…I don’t even know what I thought.”
“Kids’ heads have extra padding, but as a result they bleed a lot even from a relatively shallow cut. I can wrap him up well enough to hold him over while you drive to the ER. They can close the wound there.”
“Thank you. Honestly, I’m so grateful.” She accepted her compact back from Savannah with a weak smile.
“We’re happy to help.” Beau folded a fresh napkin into a strip. “Hey, Liam, do you like pirates?”
“Arrr!”