No answer.
Stesha remained motionless on the graveled trail. A thousand worries dashed through my head: Was she dead? Had she broken her neck? That could have so easily been my dad…
Finally, I forced myself to close the distance and reached everyone just as Stesha attempted to sit up.
“Slowly,” Mom cautioned, helping her. Quattro knelt to prop Stesha up, cradling her against his chest and knee.
Blood spilled down Stesha’s chin. Mom swallowed hard, looking vaguely green, and glanced away. Grace whipped out a red bandanna, which she pressed to Stesha’s chin. She asked, “Are you hurt anywhere else? Your neck? Your back?”
“I’m fine,” Stesha said weakly as she struggled to stand.
“Hold on. You took a big spill,” said Quattro.
However unsteady Mom felt at the sight of blood, she focused on Stesha and held up three fingers. “How many?”
“I’m fine,” Stesha protested. We all hovered around her as the rain continued to fall.
“How many?” Mom insisted.
“Three,” Stesha said, shaking her head impatiently, then wincing at the movement. “My gosh, you are all such worrywarts. I’m fine.”
Without thinking, I blurted out what was probably the last thing you’re supposed to say to a victim after an accident: “It’s bleeding more.”
Stesha blinked rapidly, seeking Mom as though she knew my mother would take care of her. “How bad is it?”
“I don’t think it’s bad at all,” Mom said calmly. She placed a reassuring hand on Stesha’s shoulder, but only now did I notice the betraying tremble. The sight of blood made her famously queasy. At home, my brothers and I all knew to find Dad if we cut ourselves. “We’ll check after it’s stopped bleeding. Keep the pressure on it.” She sighed. “I wish we had Band-Aids.”
Quattro removed a small plastic container from his backpack and said, “I not only have Band-Aids but antiseptic wipes and Neosporin.”
“Look who’s a Boy Scout,” I teased before I thought better of it, and Quattro’s eyes flashed to me. How could hazel eyes possibly be so caressing? And why did his smile hold so much promise? I could practically hear Reb and Ginny cackling over how hard I’d fallen for him.
After a few minutes of Quattro and me drawing Stesha into a conversation, asking about her favorite places to trek around the world, Grace gently pulled away the bandanna. Because the fabric was red, the bloodstains weren’t obvious, which was a good thing because Mom paled. Stesha’s chin was scored with an inch-long ragged gash. As we watched, a few droplets of blood collected at the torn edges of her skin and fell onto her rain jacket.
“I think we need to find a doctor,” I whispered to Mom.
She nodded.
But where were we going to find a trailside doctor who could stitch Stesha up? We still had at least an hour’s hard walking to reach Machu Picchu, and then how long would it take to make it to town? However far, we were going to have to hurry.
Stesha forced a crooked smile. “I’m feeling fine. The only thing that’s hurt is my pride.”
“It was my fault,” Grace said. “If I hadn’t been so slow—”
“Nonsense,” Stesha interrupted. “You didn’t do anything. Accidents happen. And besides”—she waved at Mom—“we had ourselves a real hero.”
“We did,” I said, surprised, before eyeing Mom with pride. “Mom, you were awesome!”
Without thinking, I lifted the camera to catch the tail end of Mom’s astonishment: the slight quirk in her lips, the new gleam in her eyes. Next, I bent down to photograph the uneven step, the culprit of Stesha’s accident. No different from any of the hundreds of stones we had climbed over the last few days, this one was also smoothed from generations of footsteps. I framed the shot, included the droplet of blood. Maybe that’s all we’re supposed to do after we’ve taken a spill: brush ourselves off, get back on our feet. No fuss. No blame. Just soldier on.
“Stesha,” I cajoled, raising the camera to her, “give us a picture here.”
With a lift of her chin, patched with a bandage, she unfurled the bloody bandanna like it was a victory banner. As soon as I made my shot, she leaned over and threw up.
Quattro caught her before she tumbled a second time. He shot a swift glance at me as though I were his partner. “We got to get her to a doctor. Now.”
Chapter Seventeen