Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(18)

Jack’s unfocused eyes slowly pivoted toward Dan. He licked his dry lips, blinked a couple of times. “My boy, Rick,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

“What?” Dan asked a little frantically. He’d had a boy of his own once. He’d probably worn those same eyes at the time. “What about your boy Rick?”

“Rick,” he said, and lifted the piece of paper on which he’d scrawled notes. Haditha, Al Anbar, hostile, critical, grenade, Landstuhl Medical Center, Germany.

“Shit,” Dan said. “Hey! Snap out of it! What happened?” He gave Jack a couple of pats on the cheeks, carefully. He didn’t slap him; Jack might be reactive enough to coldcock him. “Whoa, buddy.” He grabbed a bottle off the glass shelf behind the bar and tipped a shot over a glass. “Hey,” he said, lifting the glass to Jack’s lips. “Come on, burn it down, buddy. Get a grip.”

Jack’s shaking hand came up to grab the glass. He closed his eyes, threw back the shot and kept his eyes closed for a long moment. When he opened them, they were burning with a feral gleam.

“Something happen to your son, Jack?” Dan asked.

He shook his head. “Rick is like a son. He’s in the Corps in Iraq.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dan said, looking down at the paper. “Haditha, in Iraq. Landstuhl Medical. Been there.”

“He’s wounded. He might not make it.” He shook his head. “I gotta think straight,” he said to himself.

“Jesus,” Dan said. He shot into the kitchen. “Anybody back here? Hey! Anybody back here?”

In a second a woman came through a door into the kitchen. He recognized her. She was the woman who’d been abducted—Paige. The last time he’d seen her, she was pregnant. “What is it?” she asked, confused.

“Gimme a hand out here, huh?”

She followed him into the bar. Jack was leaning against the cupboard behind the bar and a little sanity had crept back into his eyes.

“Somebody named Rick is hurt in Iraq,” Dan said. “Can you find Jack’s wife? Call her or something?”

“I’m all right,” Jack said. But Paige bolted to the kitchen. “I just have to think. I was in his file as next of kin, probably because his grandmother is old and sick. Lance Corporal Sudder, they said. Took a grenade in Haditha. They got him out of surgery in Iraq and transported him to Germany, but he’s not in good shape. They had to resuscitate twice and there will be more surgery,” he said. “I have to think.”

“Whew, have another one. Slow down the brain a little,” Dan said, pouring a half a shot of something, he wasn’t even sure what.

He handed it to Jack, and Jack threw it back. He shut his eyes hard. A single tear escaped and ran down his cheek. He opened his eyes again and looked at Dan through slits. “Black Label,” he said hoarsely. “You act like you own the place.”

Dan laughed out loud. “There you are. You on my planet now? What happened?”

“Gimme some water. I’m getting there.”

Dan poured a water and Jack took a big drink. By the time he lowered the glass, Paige was standing in the kitchen doorway. Dan glanced at her.

“My husband has gone for some supplies,” she said almost apologetically. “The kids are napping. I called Mel at home and told her to come right now. It’s Saturday, the clinic isn’t open.”

“I’m okay now,” Jack said. “Rick was wounded in Haditha. He’s hurt real bad. Legs, head, torso, miscellaneous injuries. They airlifted him to Germany. I have to tell Lydie Sudder and Liz.” He looked at Dan. “Liz is his girlfriend. Then I have to go.”

“Go?” Dan asked.

“I’ll have to get to Germany. This is my fault. Kid never would’ve gone into the Corps if it hadn’t been for me and all my boys, here all the time, making him think it’s just one big goddamn party. Shit.” He swiveled his eyes to Dan’s. “They said he’s bad. He might not make it. That I should be prepared for that.”

“You got phone numbers on this paper, buddy. Once your brain is engaged again, call back and get some more numbers so you can check in at Landstuhl, find out how he’s doing. You had a big shock. You need to get stable.”

“I need a cup of coffee,” Jack said. “I had to think a second who Lance Corporal Sudder was. God, my worst nightmare.”

“Sit down on a stool,” Dan said. “I’ll fix you a cup of coffee.”

Jack looked at Paige. “Try to get Mel before she makes the drive. Tell her I’m just coming home in a little while.”

Without a word, Paige went back into the kitchen to use the phone.

Jack sat up at the bar, a place he was never seen. In his usual place behind the bar stood Dan, serving up coffee in a big mug. He didn’t ask any more questions and didn’t need to.

“Ricky turned up when he was thirteen and I’d just started working on the bar. It was a shithole then. I slept in the rubble while I tried to get it straight. He was small back then—his face was covered with freckles and he couldn’t shut his mouth for five minutes.” Jack laughed and shook his head, remembering. “I let him hang around because his mom and dad were dead and he just had his grandma. And the goofy kid sucked me in. He’s twenty now. No more freckles. Six-two. Strong…”