Protecting What's Mine(79)

“But everyone also gets sick or hurt,” Samantha said.

“Also true.”

“So maybe I want to be a doctor and work with live people. I mean, flying around in a helicopter is pretty cool, and you get to save lives and stuff like Uncle Chief Linc.”

“You have time to decide,” Mack pointed out.

“Not much. If I want to be a doctor, that means a good pre-med program and already knowing what med school I want before I graduate high school. And let’s face it, dissecting amphibians in biology or learning about hand-washing in health class isn’t preparation.”

The kid had done her research. Mack made a mental note to talk to Linc about talking to his sister about parental controls on internet searches.

“When did you decide that you wanted to be a doctor?” the girl asked.

Mack cleared her throat as the image popped into her head, crystal clear as if it had happened yesterday. “I was six.”

“See,” Samantha said in indignation. “I’m already five years behind!”

“Six is too early for anyone to decide what they want to do. You have plenty of time to decide and figure out school.”

“How did you know at six?” Samantha asked, twirling the end of one braid. “Were you one of those genius kids? Did you finish med school at eighteen?”

“What? No! I broke my ankle and had to go to the hospital. The doctor was nice to me, and he made my leg stop hurting.”

Samantha looked down. “He obviously wasn’t very good if you’re still in a cast.”

“It’s a walking boot, and this is a different injury,” Mack said, suddenly feeling defensive.

“Same ankle?”

Smartass.

“Yes. Same ankle.”

“It probably didn’t heal correctly.”

“I doubt it was the doctor’s fault.”

“How did you break it?”

“I jumped out of a second-story window.” Mack regretted it as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but Samantha was unfazed.

“Is that how you got that cool scar too?”

Mack gritted her teeth. “No.”

Hell, the kid could teach her mom and aunts a few things about interrogations.

“Are you torturing my lady friend, Mantha?”

Linc, merciful rescuer, poked his head into the helicopter bay.

“Did you know that Dr. Mack jumped out of a second-story window and broke her leg when she was six and that’s how she decided to be a doctor?”

Mack pretended to be too busy refastening a harness buckle to make eye contact.

“Is that so?” he said lightly.

“But it’s not how she got her scar. She wouldn’t tell me that,” Samantha continued.

“Mantha!”

Mack had to laugh at the dad-like admonition in Linc’s tone.

“What?” the girl asked in exasperation.

“People don’t have to tell you every damn thing, kid,” he told her.

“Don’t you think this world would be a better place if people were honest about stuff?”

“No.” Linc and Mack answered together and then shared a grin.

Samantha rolled her eyes. “You guys are so weird.”

“Yeah yeah,” Linc said, grabbing his niece under the arms and plucking her off the stretcher. “Now, get out of here so I can kiss this pretty doctor in privacy.”





They managed one very thorough kiss before being summoned inside. With the students—and adults—thoroughly worn out, they all trooped into the school’s assembly room. It smelled like glue sticks and ravioli.

Mack laughed with the rest of the crowd as the firefighters donned their gear—in a speed competition, of course—and then did the floss dance on the stage. Judging by the gleeful faces surrounding her, she guessed that if one of these kids ever came face-to-face with a firefighter during an emergency, they’d feel joy, not fear. It was a smart, entertaining move.

And she had to admit, her firefighter definitely had some nice moves.

After the dancing, the school principal invited all of the first responders onto the stage for a Q&A session with the kids.

The students asked Linc if he had a dalmatian. To their glee, he introduced them to Sunshine, who went nosing through the auditorium looking for treats.

They asked Sheriff Adler about catching bad guys and if he’d ever been in a car chase.

They wanted to know how tall Bubba was and if Sally would fly them home.

A kid with thick glasses and an Iron Man t-shirt raised his hand. “Dr. Mack, I told my dad I wanted to be a doctor, but he said it’s too much responsibility because it’s life and death and that I should be an accountant or something that doesn’t have to keep people alive. So, did you ever kill someone?”

The teacher holding the microphone for the kid snatched it away, hissing an “inappropriate” at him while the older kids in the crowd let out an “ooooh!”

The kid shrugged and watched Mack expectantly.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Faces flashed through her mind in rapid-fire. It wasn’t her life she was watching but the end of others. She’d lost some en route. Some she’d been too late getting to. A few had lost the fight after she’d gotten them to the hospital. And her first had died with his blood on her hands in an emergency department before she’d even finished med school.