Paradise Valley. Робин Карр

sandwiches here, pack them, and we’ll go get the job done. Do you have chips?”

      “I don’t know,” she answered.

      “Is Jack completely in charge of the food at your house?”

      “Pretty much,” she admitted, taking a drink of her beer. She snuggled Emma, calmed down, sniffed back her tears, and thanks to Cameron’s offer of help, felt a lot better about the rest of her mission.

      “I have chips,” he said.

      She smiled at him. She’d spent so much time being grateful to Cameron, the doctor, for practicing medicine in her town, she hadn’t realized how great Cameron, the person, really was. “You’ve turned into my good friend,” she said. “Like Doc.”

      “That’s very nice,” he replied. “Thank you.”

      It was a very long night and day before the phone rang at the Sheridan house and Mel lunged for it. She said hello and heard Jack’s gravelly voice. “Baby.”

      “Jack! What do you know?”

      “He’s going to be all right. He cracked his head, lost a spleen, is scraped up all to hell, but the injuries are apparently not life threatening at this point.”

      “Was he burned?” Mel asked, thinking about a grenade and the heat.

      “No. Pitched through the air, though. But not burned.”

      “Oh, thank God!”

      “Mel, he lost his leg.”

      “Was the damage too severe? Was it inoperable?” she asked.

      “He lost it in the explosion. There wasn’t a chance. Losing the leg was what almost killed him. He lost a lot of blood.”

      “Oh, poor Rick. Where’d they amputate? Above or below the knee?”

      “Above. But they saved a lot of thigh and femur. He’s still in recovery. We haven’t seen him yet, but he’s going to be all right, Mel. Mel,” he said, then paused. “This is rough. We’re not family. Liz isn’t a spouse and I’m not his father. We’re not getting a lot of help, if you know what I mean.”

      “I’m not sure I do.”

      “I don’t know if they’re going to let us bring him home. He might be transferred to some military medical facility for rehab. If I was his father, I could probably bring him home and take him to the nearest hospital for rehab. If I’d just worked with Lydie to adopt him legally before all this—”

      She heard the regret in his voice. Jack felt as if he’d let Rick down. “Jack, just see Rick, let him know you’re there, find out how he’s doing medically, with pain and trauma. Decisions about where he’s going next will come when they come.”

      “I know.”

      “And Jack? You might want to sleep. I hear the exhaustion in your voice. You have to be strong for Rick. Very strong. You can’t cave in to things like pity, worry…”

      “I’ll be strong.”

      “How’s Liz holding up?”

      “Better than me. She was so relieved to hear he’s going to be all right, she started to cry and laugh at the same time. She doesn’t quite get it, that she’s not getting him back right away. And when she does, he won’t be the same.”

      “You both just need to see him. He’s not going to be himself for a while.” She paused. “I wish I was there with you, Jack. I could help. And I miss you so much.”

      “Are the kids okay?” he asked.

      “They’re fine, Jack. We’re all fine. Just missing you, that’s all. But you’re where you have to be.”

      “Really, if I could just get him home, with our family, I’d feel so much better.”

      “That will come.” She took a deep breath. “He needs to finish this journey. He needs the rehab, a prosthetic leg. Some counseling.”

      “Yeah,” Jack said. “Yeah, I know.”

      “Would you like me to tell people? Or would you like to make calls yourself?”

      “Will you do it, Mel? Lydie, Connie and the boys? If you can call Preach, Mike and Paul, they can call the squad. Are you up to it?”

      “Of course, darling. I’ll make the calls right now. Everyone is waiting. Will you do something for me?”

      “Anything I can.”

      “When you see Rick, please tell him I love him. And I’m proud of him. Tell him I’ll do anything in my power to help him. And tell him…No, it’s too soon for that….”

      “For what?”

      She took a breath. “When I lived in Los Angeles, I worked with a doctor in emergency for almost a year before I learned he wore a prosthetic leg. He was quick, confident, strong and very talented. It’s not only possible, it’s probable. It’s just that…I’m sure getting there’s a real bitch.”

      Blessedly, Mel had a very slow Monday morning in the clinic. Cameron had a couple of walk-ins, but Mel busied herself with paperwork and the children. It was lunchtime when a familiar guy walked in. He pulled off his Shady Brady inside the door. “Hi,” he said.

      She rose from the desk behind the reception counter. “Hi. How are you?”

      “Fine. Good. Um, I was just wondering if you’d heard anything from your husband. About the kid. Rick.”

      “Yes,” she said, walking toward him. “He’s going to be all right. He has multiple injuries, all treatable. He’s got head injuries that aren’t a threat, he lost a spleen, is scraped up real bad but not burned, and he lost a leg in the explosion.”

      The man’s eyes grew wide and shocked at that last. Then, when he collected himself, he asked, “Above or below?”

      She knew exactly what he meant and wondered about his association with amputees. “Above the knee. Sounds like you know something about that.”

      “In fact, I was sent to Landstuhl after an injury and got cozy with a lot of guys who lost limbs. Below the knee was easy compared to—Well, you know.”

      “He’s got a lot of rehab ahead, but the outlook is potentially positive. He’s safe for now.”

      “Hmm,” he said, dropping his gaze, shaking his head. “Good. He made it through. Poor kid. What did your husband say—that he’s twenty years old?”

      “Just barely. And the sweetest kid you’ll ever meet. Nice of you to inquire.”

      “I’ve been thinking about that whole scene. Shook old Jack up pretty good. I haven’t seen him very often over the past few years, but I’ve never seen him shook up like that.”

      “Rick’s pretty special. Listen, speaking of the past few years—I think about that woman and baby a lot.”

      “Listen,” he said. “I’m sorry I had to lie to you, but that baby had nothing to do with me. I knew about the woman—I knew her man left her out there, ready to pop. I checked on her a couple of times and knew she had a sketchy past, like a lot of us, and she refused to go to a clinic. She said it would be all right, but I found her in a mess.”

      “Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Why’d you let me think it was yours?”

      He shrugged. “I didn’t know if you’d help otherwise. And I did get her on a bus. If she didn’t run out on that sister, they were willing to take her in, help her. Sorry, that was about all I could do.”

      “You could have done nothing,” Mel said. She smiled. “If you’d done nothing, it would’ve been a disaster. She and the baby—”

      “Yeah,