Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(21)

“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—”