Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(102)

Again Jack stepped forward to intercede. This time it was both Dan and Paul who pulled him back. “Don’t get in this, Jack,” Dan said. “He has things to work out. So does she.”

“He wasn’t raised like that,” Jack said.

“He wasn’t raised to go to war and get wounded either. Let him go.”

“What do you want from me?” Liz asked Rick, twisting her wrist out of his grasp. “Maybe you like to see me look at you all sad and hurt so you can feel like big stuff. Or maybe you were expecting me to beg. Is that what you want?”

“I want you to look at me! I want you to say hello to me! I want you to treat me like a human being!”

“Yeah? I wanted that from you, too! But you don’t think anyone besides yourself deserves to be treated with kindness or respect. You have to give as good as you get, Rick, that’s all there is to it.”

“Sorry if I’m not unselfish enough for you, Lizzie! It gets tough, trying to figure out how to take a goddamn shower much less how to get the rest of your life back!”

“You think you’re the only one who wants their life back? Maybe you think you’re the only one who needs understanding, is that it? You hurting, Rick?”

“Yeah, Liz! Yeah! I’d trade anything to just be what I was before!”

“And so would I!” she screamed at him. “I’d give both my legs if you could have yours! You think I wouldn’t have given my arms and my legs just to see you holding a living son in your arms? You think I wouldn’t give my eyes so you wouldn’t have a limp?”

“Stop it! Don’t say that!”

“It’s true! It’s the truth! And not for me—for you! Hell, I don’t care if you limp. I don’t care if you wheel yourself around—it’s not your stupid goddamn leg I care about. I prayed all the way to Germany! I told God if you were dead when I got there, I wish I could go with you! But when I got there, you weren’t dead! You just told me to go away! Like I was dead. Sometimes I wish I was!”

“Shut up! Don’t say that!”

“I’d give my life if you could be happy again! I swear to God, I’d give my—”

“Stop saying that!” he screamed, and he shoved her. She was pushed backward a few stumbling feet.

Jack took a giant step forward and Dan pivoted quickly, putting himself in front of him. “Gotta let ’em do it, Jack. It’s their battle right now. We’ll get a piece of it later.”

“I should stop it before it gets—”

Dan looked over his shoulder in time to see Liz turn and run toward the corner store, but instead of going inside, she got in her car. She pulled away from the store and drove out of town. Dan looked back at Jack. “You. Stay put. You’re way too close to this.”

Dan went down the porch steps and moved toward Rick. Because he was moving kind of fast, he had a little hitch in his step. When he stood in front of Rick, he put his hands on his hips. “Did you actually push that female?” he asked.

“How about you mind your own business,” Rick said hotly.

“That’s not gonna happen, boy. Where I come from, we don’t stand around and watch a man get physical with a woman and mind our own business. You looking for a fight, is that it?”

“Out of my way,” Rick said, leaning on his cane and trying to get around Dan.

Dan kicked the cane, sweeping it out of Rick’s hand and sailing a few feet down the street. Then he gave Rick a shove, just like he’d given Liz, and in just one second, Rick was flat on his ass.

“Hey! What the hell?”

“How about you fight with someone who isn’t afraid to hit back? How about that?”

“Funny,” Rick said from his place on the ground, “I think you might have a little advantage there, friend.”

Dan grinned. “That right?”

Dan bent at the waist, leaned over and began unlacing his boot. He pulled it off, leaving a thick white sock. He straightened, unfastened his belt and dropped his jeans to mid-thigh and there it was, the silicon sleeve of a prosthetic limb right shy of his boxer shorts.

Dan lowered himself to the ground slowly, carefully, then pushed the pin to release the suction on the sleeve to free his stump. Since the ankle of his prosthesis didn’t bend, he had to work the artificial limb up through his pants’ leg and lay it on the ground. With the help of his hands, he pushed himself up on one leg, balancing with some difficulty. Once standing on one leg, he pulled his jeans up again, zipping and belting them. He pulled the empty pants’ leg up and tucked the end in the front pocket of his jeans. And with all the grace of a ballet dancer, he was solid on one leg. Totally solid.

On the porch, Jack muttered, “Holy Jesus.”

“I wondered about that,” Paul said. “That unsteady knee of his isn’t his. Well, I mean, I’m sure he owns it and all…”

Dan balanced nicely. Years of practice had left him quite proficient. “You think the playing field is level yet?” he asked Rick. “Because I can’t take off the other one.”

“Holy shit,” Rick said, raised up on his elbows.

“Tell you what, you keep yours and we’ll go a few rounds. I’m no little girl. And I’m just as gimpy as you. How’s that?”