“Will you pipe down?” Frankie said. “They’re gonna medicate you if you don’t. Stop being such an attention whore, Hadley. He’s fine. And he’s not your concern anymore.”

“I thought he was dead! Oh, Jack, if you’d been—”

Mercifully, the doors swung shut behind him, cutting off his ex-wife’s wails.

The doctor, who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, showed him into the exam room. “Have a seat, Mr. Holland. We’ll get you taken care of lickety-split. Positive attitude, check!”

There was a knock, and Emmaline peeked in. “Want company?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Are you his wife?” the doctor asked.

“No. Girlfriend.” She blushed.

“Well, from the look of that gross and bloody towel, Mr. Holland,” the doctor said, “I think you’ll need some stitches. I love stitches. They’re my favorite! Has anyone ever told you you’re really handsome, Mr. Holland?”

Christ.

“Hey, is Jeremy Lyon on tonight?” Em asked. That’s right. Jeremy took shifts here a few times a month.

Dr. Enthusiasm paused. “Um...yes?”

“He’s a family friend. Mind if he sees Jack instead?”

The girl sighed. “Fine,” she said, deflating. “I’ll get him.” She slouched away.

“Thanks,” Jack said.

“Sure.” Emmaline sat down on the edge of his bed, glanced at him, then back at her hands. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for...you know. Looking out for me.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “It wasn’t necessary.”

Jack’s irritation melted a bit. “You’re welcome. I probably earned a kiss, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He reached out and hooked a finger in the front of her sweater and pulled her to him, then kissed her. Em’s hands went to his chest. Her mouth was so soft, a balm against this whole stupid night. “I really hated seeing that guy kiss you,” Jack murmured against her mouth.

“I should hope so.”

He kissed her again, and this time, his tongue brushed hers, and she melted against him.

“Hey, Jack— Oh, my God, you two are together? Why am I always the last to know the good stuff?” Jeremy stood in the cubicle. “This is so nice! I only wish I could take credit for fixing you up. Hi, Emmaline, how are you?” He hugged her, then shook Jack’s hand. “So you got hit on the head, huh? Not very smart of you, Jack.”

“He turned his back on a drunken idiot,” Em offered. Jeremy tsked and shook his head.

“Actually, you turned my back on a drunken idiot,” Jack said.

“True. Sorry about that.”

“Did you lose consciousness?” Jeremy asked, washing his hands.

“Nope.”

“How’s the pain?”

“Fine.”

“You military types. So stoic.” He looked at Jack’s head, then opened a cabinet and took out a suture kit. “Gonna need a few stitches, bro. This will sting.”

* * *

WHEN JEREMY WAS DONE, Em said she’d check on Hadley and see if Levi needed anything else. “Other than the head wound, how are things?” Jeremy asked when she was gone.

“Good.”

“Any sequelae from the rescue?”

Jack looked up sharply. “Like what?”

“Inner ear pain, balance issues.” Jeremy paused, his eyes steady. “PTSD.”

“No.”

“This is confidential, of course, since I’m here as your doctor. PTSD would be things like nightmares, panic attacks, flashbacks.”

“I know what it is, but I’m fine, Jeremy. Thanks.”

“Okay. Glad to hear it.” He signed a paper. “Ice, Tylenol if you need it, come to the office in a week for stitch removal.” Jeremy smiled. “Good to see you, even under the circumstances.”

“You, too, Jer.” He gave Jeremy a manly hug. The guy was practically part of the family. As decent as they came, too.

Emmaline wasn’t back yet, and Jack found himself going to the elevator. Got in, pushed the button. The elevator rose, and six seconds later, the doors opened to a sign.

“Fourth Floor, Intensive Care Unit. Please speak quietly.”

The hall was quiet except for the beeping of machines and, farther down, the murmur from the nurses’ station. The squeak of rubber-soled shoes. The hiss of a ventilator.

Room 401 had a whiteboard hanging on the door. McGowan, H. was written in green marker. Jack could see a bed and someone sleeping (or dead). Across the hall, 402, Zaccharias, M., 403, Blake, S., 404, Humbert, L.

Room 405, Deiner, J.

The door was open a few inches.

He shouldn’t be here.

His heart was smashing in his chest, hurling itself against his ribs like that bobcat.

If he opened the door just a little more, he’d be able to see something. Josh’s feet, maybe.

The image of Josh Deiner, sitting up in bed, texting on his phone or watching TV or eating Jell-O, came to him so fast and hard that Jack’s knees nearly buckled.

“Can I help you?”

Jack jumped. He hadn’t even heard the nurse behind him. “Jane MacGregor, APRN,” her name tag said. Jack was aware suddenly that he was drenched in sweat.

“How’s he doing?” Jack whispered.

Her face softened. “Are you a family member?”

“No.”

“Then I can’t discuss—”

“How dare you? Get out! Get out!”

Josh Deiner’s mother stood in the doorway, her voice like breaking glass. “How dare you come here? Get away from my son!”

“Mrs. Deiner, I just wanted—”

“Get away from us!” she screamed, and shoes were squeaking on the floors and visitors’ heads popped out of rooms. “He’s here because of you! How dare you intrude like this!”

The nurse took Jack’s arm and led him down the hall, and Jack thought he might fall; he wasn’t sure his legs were working right. Maybe it was the hit on the head, but he was wrong, something was wrong, and Josh, please, please don’t die.

The elevator doors opened, and there was Emmaline.

“There you are,” she said.

“There’s been a disturbance here,” said the nurse. “Security’s on their way up.”

“Josh Deiner’s room?” Em asked. “Jack here is the one who pulled him out of the lake.”

“Oh, I see.” The woman looked at Jack, her face kind. “I’m sorry, but I still have to ask you to leave.”

“We’re going,” Em said. “You won’t need Security. I’m Manningsport P.D.”

“What you did was amazing, by the way,” the nurse said softly. “I’m sorry about the Deiners.” Then she walked back down the hall.

Jack could hear Mrs. Deiner sobbing, the loneliest, most heart-wrenching sound on earth...a mother mourning her only child.

Josh wasn’t getting any better. Jack didn’t need a doctor to tell him that.

“Let’s go home, big guy,” Emmaline said. She pushed the button for the elevator, and the doors opened.