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“Good,” he said. “We’ll get you stabilized.” He caught Don Ramón’s eye. “Your husband?”

“Father,” Don Ramón corrected, tightening the hem of his coat.

The doctor nodded. “Understood. Right now we need blood. You’ve lost too much. Nurse!”

A stocky nurse hurried over. “Type and cross?”

“Tessa Lorenzo,” Don Ramón said, slipping off his jacket. “My blood’s type O-positive.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow. “Right. We’ll draw two units.”

She wheeled Tessa into a curtained bay. As Tessa closed her eyes against pain, Don Ramón sat at her side, hand brushed over hers.

“You’re going to be fine,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

***

Down the hall, the nurse prepared...