Back Country (The Country Duet #2)(30)

I slam my truck into park in the same parking lot where I picked Teale up off the ground. This place will always hold a dear memory of the tender steps it took for us reuniting. She’s recently scored a full-time job at a local clinic in Moscow. I love the fact she no longer has to drive.

Rushing into the waiting room, it feels like home away from home. Hell, I’ve been in out of so many different hospitals and nursing homes over the last months with Dave. Today there’s more action with lots of family members waiting. I recognize the receptionist behind the desk and decide in the blink of a second that lying will be the only way I get back to Dave.

“How can I help you?” She peers over her wire-framed glasses.

“I’m here to see Dave Hendricks.”

“Are you family?”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, holding back the words wanting to spew from my mouth. “Yes, I’m his son.”

“Just a moment please while I locate him.” She glances down at her computer screen. “Have a seat, and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

I refuse to sit down, knowing that only long hours of waiting will follow. I pace back and forth, wearing a path in the ceramic tile with my boots.

“Hunter.”

My head flies up, and I came face to face with a familiar nurse.

“Yeah.”

“Dave wants you. Won’t quit calling for you. I told him I’d come out and check if you were here.”

My shoulders sag in relief. “Thank you.”

She leads me back through the swinging doors I’ve entered so many times before. The same scent, sounds, and sterile white curtains surround me. When we finally get to the room at the end of the hallway, I spot Dave.

He’s pale, but sits up as soon as he sees me. Pain still evident on his face, even though he has IV’s everywhere.

“Mr. Hendricks, I need to pull some more blood for testing.”

“Bullshit, you guys have already stuck me ten times.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but this is the final one.”

“I’m sick of you assholes wanting nothing more but to poke me. How would it make you feel? Just go…”

I stop Dave, knowing what was going to come next. I place my hand on the bed rail. “Dave, you’re not well and you’re in pain. They need to get down to the root of the issue. Let this gentleman do his job.”

He shakes his head, remaining pissed off, but finally gives in. This particular phlebotomist has never drawn blood from Dave. Anyone else who has had to deal with us in the hospital knows if they communicate through me and not directly to Dave he will cooperate. I’m tired of fighting to figure out why. The only thing I can come up with is he’s a stubborn ass.

The poor guy trembles a bit when starting to draw blood from Dave, but manages to get the job finished. Once he’s left the room, I lean down on the bed rails and stare Dave in the face.

“So, what is going on?”

“I told you, Hunter, my goddamn feet hurt.”

“The same pain you’ve been complaining about?” I ask.

He nods. “Got to a point last night where the pain pills wouldn’t even work. I gave up early this morning and called for an ambulance.”

“Have they told you anything yet?” I ask him.

“Naw, I’m just another fucking infection of some sort.”

We sit in the tiny emergency room for hours. Nurses come and go, checking on Dave. He harasses them about their looks and if they’re married. A doctor walks in when I’m ready to lose my patience playing the damn waiting game. I recognize him from Dave’s last visit.

“Mr. Hendricks.” He nods, then focuses in on the laptop in his hands. “Unfortunately, the gangrene spread. We thought wound care would be able to catch it, but they didn’t.”

“Wait.” I stand up from the chair. “Gangrene?”

“Yes.”

That’s all he supplies is a one word answer, but my questions are not finished.

“I had no clue he went home with gangrene in his feet.”

“Sorry.”

I grip the back of my neck, tamping down my anger. “Don’t you think that might have been important to relay to me?”

He looks at me for a beat, then focuses back in on Dave. “We need to amputate the toe on your right foot, and twenty-five percent of that foot to control the outbreak.”

The doctor pulls down the blanket exposing Dave’s feet. A shade of dark black, with crimson boils and sores cover his foot. The other one doesn’t look as bad, but far from healthy. I am livid. My blood is boiling out of control. Why in the fuck no one told me about this is beyond me? Here I was with him daily, listening to him talk about the pain, and I never saw wound care change his bandages.

Dave clears his throat, and I realize he’s waiting for my approval of the amputation. I give him a slight nod. The doctor rambles on a bit longer before leaving the room. I have words for Dave and the doctor, so I decide to tail him out of the room.

“Sir.”

His white coat flying out as he turns. He only responds with a glance and no words.

“I’m going to be honest here. I had no idea about this and I’ve been with him every single day. It seems a lot could’ve been avoided if I was in the loop.”

He nods his head. “Okay.”