A Soldier's Devotion. Cheryl Wyatt

doctor.”

      “That’s who you were talking to when you crashed?”

      “Yes, the doctor. The earpiece I ordered from the local cell phone dealer isn’t in yet and I dropped the phone. The call disconnected.”

      He wrote and handed her another ticket. “This is for talking on a cell phone while driving which, emergency or not, is illegal in Illinois.”

      Of course she deserved it. “I understand. I should have pulled over to talk.” Val fiddled with the pewter bracelet on her wrist—a gift from Aunt Elsie.

      Her sincere contriteness softened Stallings’ expression. He motioned her toward two LED-flashing cruisers. “Your vehicle isn’t safe to drive. A tow truck will haul it to Eagle’s Nest Vehicle Repair. I’ll drive you to Refuge Memorial to check on your aunt.”

      They got in the car and exited the scene as the ambulance left with Mr. Reardon. Val eyed the bike debris in the road as they passed. “He’s understandably angry that I destroyed it. I’ll pay to have it fixed.” Would her car insurance cover his bike? She hadn’t been paying attention and now she would pay dearly. Val wrung her hands and wished for news on Aunt Elsie.

      Stallings flicked a glance her way. “You can’t simply replace that bike. Vince’s brother custom-built it for him. There’s not another like it in the world.”

      “Maybe I can have his brother build him another one.” The large van she was saving to buy for transporting at-risk teens around town would have to be put on hold. But such was the nature of consequence.

      Stallings shook his head. “Not possible. His brother passed away in prison.”

      Her heart leaped to her throat. “Mr. Reardon’s brother was incarcerated?”

      “Yes. For a crime someone else committed.”

      His steely tone told her that’s all he was going to say about that.

      Vince’s brother was wrongly convicted? Had to have been, for an officer of the law to say so with such conviction. And a detectable measure of corporate remorse.

      The bottom fell out of her stomach.

      Stallings steered left. “So he harbors ill regard for the legal system.”

      She’d suspected it when curse-laced words snaked out of Mr. Reardon to strike her the moment she’d explained she was an attorney on her way to court.

      “And anyone associated with the judicial system. You, therefore, aren’t on his list of favorite people.”

      Her phone chimed. Her aunt’s doctor’s name appeared on caller ID. Thank God!

      Val cast a visual appeal toward Officer Stallings. “Excuse me. I have to take this. Hello?”

      “Miss Russo, I don’t have long to talk. I’m here at Refuge Memorial Trauma Care with your aunt. She needs surgery right away. Her vitals are veering toward unstable. We suspect she has internal bleeding. The only way to know where it’s coming from is to open her up. Her hip is also broken. She says you’re her closest next of kin and she’s asking for you. How far out are you?”

      Val’s heart rate dipped, and then sped up. “We’re on the way. I would be there by now but I’ve been involved in a car accident.”

      “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

      She fought a tremor in her voice. “I am. Please don’t tell Aunt Elsie about the accident.”

      A remembrance of the angry red scrapes on Vince’s skinned-up body and hands caused her arms to ice. Images of his badly damaged helmet swerved through her mind. And to think if he hadn’t been wearing it—

      Her arms went from deep-frozen to arctic-numb.

      She could have killed him.

      “Your aunt is mildly sedated but fairly adamant about seeing you before she goes into surgery.”

      “Do you think she’s afraid she won’t come out of it?”

      “I’m not sure.”

      “She will come out of it, right?”

      The extended pause on the line constricted Val’s throat. She shuddered, taking in a breath.

      “We hope so. But I can’t promise. With her in her eighties, any surgery is risky. The anesthesiologist is here now. At this point it’s more of a risk to wait.”

      “Then don’t. Tell her I was unavoidably detained but I’ll be there when she wakes up.”

      Please let her wake up.

      “Okay. Be careful.”

      Val ended the call so Elsie could get treatment. At least she was a strong believer. God would be with her and give Elsie a sustaining sense of His presence.

      But what about the man called Vince? Hadn’t he said he wasn’t one for religion? His eyes and tone had grown belligerent the more she’d prayed. So she’d resorted to praying silently. What if he had internal bleeding, too? The sudden thought struck terror in her.

      She’d made a stupid, stupid mistake today.

      One that could have cost a hero his life.

      Where had he been going in his military garb? Someplace important, no doubt. Or what if he’d been deployed and was just returning home to his family? She hadn’t thought to ask if he wanted her to call his family.

      Surely a man like that had a wife and children.

      The more her mistake settled in, the more the acid reflux seared her throat. This man Reardon might never forgive her. But the bottomless pain she’d witnessed in his eyes ran deeper than the wreck today. He needed God.

      “Everything okay with your aunt?” Stallings’ voice crashed into her thoughts.

      “They’re taking her into surgery now.”

      Now on Verbose Street, the main one running through Refuge, Stallings began passing traffic. Probably to get her to the hospital sooner, for which she was grateful. “It might far better for you if Reardon knows about the nature of the phone call you received while driving.”

      “Maybe,” Val said. “But that still doesn’t excuse it.”

      Stallings didn’t say anything for a few blocks.

      Hospital in view, she pulled her purse into her lap. “Is there anyone else you know of who could help rebuild the bike?”

      Stallings looked at her sharply. “Just his sister. But they’re estranged.”

      “What else can you tell me?” Val asked, feeling indebted to the man whose bike she destroyed and whose life she endangered.

      “If you can locate her, she builds custom bikes, too. That’s an idea if you really want to replicate that bike close to how his brother built it. She may have helped his late brother design it. But it’s no secret to anyone who knows Vince that he and his sister haven’t gotten along since their brother’s death.”

      She probably shouldn’t wonder why. Hard to help it though. Her two options balanced on a mental justice scale. She had to do something to right this wrong.

      She shifted in her seat. “Will it anger him more that he doesn’t get his bike fixed the way it was, or if I contact a family member he doesn’t get along with?”

      Stallings made a slight coughing sound. “Not sure. Both rank equally high on the danger scale.”

      “Would you know how I could contact her?”

      Stallings shook his head. “I’m steering clear of this one. You’ll have to search that out on your own then decide whether contacting her is a risk worth taking.”

      “If you at least know her name, I’ll obtain her contact information. I have to try.”