She went first to Connie, but didn’t stay long. Then to the bar where Preacher already had the news from his wife. He wondered if he should close the bar. “The word is going to travel,” Mel said. “And we’re not going to hear anything for twenty-four hours or so. Stay busy. Everyone loves Ricky. If it’s not your fanciest dinner tonight, no one will complain.”

“My dinners tend to get fancier when there’s trouble….”

Next, Mel checked on Lydie, who was doing remarkably well under the circumstances, but by the time she got to the clinic to talk to Cameron, her kids were screaming and tears were running down her cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, coming down the stairs in his jeans and T-shirt. “What’s going on here?” he asked. He immediately took David off her hands so they could each comfort one child.

“God,” she said, trying to sniff back emotion. “You’ve heard us talk about Rick, right?”

“Sure. Is he all right?”

“He is not all right. He was critically wounded in Iraq. Jack and Rick’s girlfriend, Liz, have rushed off to Germany, where he’s been airlifted for surgery. My kids have been slung around all afternoon so we could get the two of them on their way, and I just realized I haven’t let myself feel it yet. He’s like Jack’s boy. He’s like my boy. And these two are absolutely insane. I need to rock and feed and tell more people who are close to Ricky and I—” She started to cry. “I’m so worried and scared I could just die.”

Cameron put an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Mel. Let’s rock and feed and cry if you need to. I’ll make you tea or hot milk or—”

“Tea or hot milk?” she asked through her tears. “Great.”

“I have a beer in the refrigerator,” he offered, wiping her cheeks with his thumb.

“Better,” she sniffed. “I came for a reason, not just to cry. I didn’t plan that part. Lydie Sudder, down the street, that’s Rick’s grandma. His only living family. And she’s—”

“I know all about Lydie. Diabetic, failing vision, high blood pressure, and her heart—”

“I just want you to be alert to her. It’s not as though pounding on her door at two in the morning to see if she’s all right is going to help. But I checked on her and told her to call one of us if she had any problems related to this scary news. I told her to call a pager. I can’t go home yet. I still have to call on Vanni and Paul.”

He led her into the clinic’s kitchen and deftly pulled a couple of the prepared bottles she kept there out of the refrigerator. Emma was almost a year old, David two, and both of them were happy with the cold milk. Then he handed Mel a beer with a smile.

“How about dinner for these two?”

“Right now they’re just tired to the bone and need some calm. But I can’t sit around here too long.”

Cam had David in his arms while Mel held Emma. Both children settled down quickly with their bottles and some warm, calm arms holding them. Mel sniffled a couple of times, but having her children under control and a quiet place to sit calmed even her.

“You should have seen Liz,” she said softly. “She’s never been on a plane before, much less to Europe. She packed in ten minutes. She kept asking me questions while I was trying to get her a ticket on the computer. She’d ask, ‘Hair dryer?’ and I’d answer yes. ‘Cold or warm there?’ and I said cold. Ten minutes and she was ready to go. She’s loved him since she was fourteen.”

“Do you know anything about his injuries?” Cam quietly asked.

“Not a lot, no.” She repeated what Jack had told her. “I wanted to go with him, but I have a passport problem and two small children. I still wanted to go. In the end, Liz went. Seventeen-year-old Liz. And I was jealous.”

He laughed at her. “It was probably good that she went, if it’ll help the boy.”

“That’s what Jack said. But suddenly I feel abandoned. I know it’s stupid, but I still felt it.”

“It’s not stupid, Mel. It’s the real deal. Thing is, there’s just no help for it. Why don’t you leave the kids with me while you make your calls to deliver the news.”

She shook her head and laughed hollowly. “That makes perfect sense, but because of this I just can’t be separated from my kids. I have to have them near.”

“I see,” Cameron said. “Tell you what—I’ll follow you out to Haggerty’s, then to your place. I’ll help you with the kids, get them fed and settled. We’ll make a sandwich. And when all is calm and quiet, I’ll take off.” He grinned. “I didn’t have plans for tonight anyway. And I’m wearing the pager.”

“I have baby food,” she said. “I don’t know what grown-up food I have.”

He laughed again. “You’re hopeless. Fine. I’ll make us a couple of 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.”