by J. M. Madden
“Chad seemed very surprised she had given it up.”
He nodded, his head throbbing from emotion and physical pain. He wanted to crawl into bed and drag Cat with him.
She seemed to sense as well that he had almost reached his limit, because she peeled the blankets back on the bed. “Why don’t you chill for a little bit? We’ll go over our options later. Want me to help you with the sling?”
Without argument he turned to let her release the Velcro strips, then shifted himself back to the mattress, dragging a spare pillow over his aching eyes. The lack of light immediately eased some of the tension in his head. “Can you hang out with me for a while?”
She stroked her hand down his arm and squeezed his fingers. “I will.”
Huffing out a breath, he tried to let everything go.
Cat knew the second Harper drifted off to sleep. His fingers slackened their death grip on her hand just slightly and the pillow he’d rested over his eyes slipped to the mattress. She pulled away without his noticing.
God, he looked bad. Now that she knew he was asleep she allowed the tight rein on her emotions to slacken as she took him in. His handsome face looked like he had gone ten rounds with a heavyweight champ. There was bruising around both of his deep-set eyes and down his long nose. Several cuts and suture lines circled his right eye. The scarring would be significant.
The tight skull cut he usually clipped his hair in had grown out and was a little shaggy. The dark black hair was the longest she’d seen it in years. Long meaning business-short, just not bad-ass sniper short like he usually preferred it.
Gaze dancing down his chest, she sighed and wiped her leaking eyes. At least he was in one piece. Everything else could be dealt with.
The doctor probably wanted to know what their thoughts were. Crossing the dim room, taking a last deep breath she eased the door open as quietly as she could.
The eye surgeon sat at the nurse’s station, tapping notes into a computer. He looked up when she rested her arms on the counter above him. “What are the chances he will ever get the sight back in that eye? Is a transplant an option? No bullshit.”
The doctor looked a little affronted that she spoke to him that way but she had no more patience. The man stood up and circled the counter to wave her to a small seating area. Cat stalked to the chairs and sat, then waited for him to answer her questions.
“I think there is a very slim chance of recovering vision in that eye. Yes, you can pursue second opinions and we will absolutely do everything in our power to make it happen, but in my twelve years of practicing I have not seen an eye as damaged as your husband’s recover. We can put him on a corneal transplant list but the tissue around the cornea is damaged as bad as the cornea itself. If he struggles with infection in that eye, there is a very real possibility that the eye itself will have to be removed.”
Cat sat back in the chair. She’d definitely gotten her answers. But he hadn’t told her anything she hadn’t expected. The fears had been in her heart; she just didn’t want Harper to know that.
“So, what do we do now?”
The doctor leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs. “Right now your husband isn’t even at a place in his recovery that I can recommend him for the transplant list. We need to get a little ways out and deal with the infections that I’m sure will come. He had serious trauma to that eye. There’s a chance he could still have glass in it we just couldn’t see. It’s not going to be a quick fix. He’ll be on heavy antibiotics and pain medication for a while.”
She nodded her head and sighed. “How long does he need to stay?”
“Well, I’ll consult with his primary care team. Whenever they think he can be released he can be, and we’ll follow up later. Or I can transfer his care over to another doctor where you live.”
Cat blinked and rubbed her hand over her forehead. There was so much to think about.
“When he is released,” the doctor continued, “I suggest you drive wherever you go. The pressure change in an airplane could damage him further.”
She nodded her head and shook his hand, then he left. The fact that she had just had all her fears confirmed made her sad. She knew the responsibility of talking to Harper would fall to her. And she would have to hurt him again.
On the bright side, there was a road trip in their future.
Exploring had always been one of their passions. It had started out as a SEAL’s need to reconnoiter the area, but she had joined him and added some fun to the task. They used to drive for hours wandering from state to state, sometimes only getting back minutes before he was due to report for duty. That had been when they were young and a little more carefree. Not that she’d ever tell her daughter, but Dillon had been conceived in the back of Harper’s old truck on one of his quick trips home.
Two or three years ago they’d gone on a camping road trip. Two weeks in the middle of nowhere. Tate had been small then, maybe only three, and Dillon had been old enough that she’d resented leaving her friends. But they had all ended up enjoying themselves. It was one of the last clear memories she had of them doing something fun as a family. Dillon’s too. Tate didn’t remember it at all, which made her sad.
How long she sat in that chair reminiscing, she didn’t know. But when a nurse took off running in the direction of Harper’s room she knew something was up. She bolted for the door. As she pushed through she heard him yell at them to get the fuck away from him. Harper stood on the far side of the room, bloodshot eyes wild, arm dripping blood where he’d caught it on something. Cat grabbed the back of one of the nurse’s scrubs as she tried to reach for him and jerked the woman back. “You need to get out of here. Now. I’ll talk to him.”
The nurses argued with her, but Cat could outlast them all. “Get out!” They finally seemed to respond to the authority in her voice. They scuttled out of the room, tugging a sobbing young girl with them.
Cat took a deep breath and waited for Harper’s anger to ease. He had fallen into a fighting stance, arms outstretched, ready to defend himself. She didn’t need to wonder what had set him off so thoroughly. It looked like one of the nurse assistants had come in to do something, flicked the light on and scared the crap out of Harper.
His bloodshot eyes were blinking and he scowled fiercely, obviously in pain. Cat flicked the light switch down, plunging the room into as much darkness as she could. There was a nightlight in the bathroom casting a dim glow and a sliver of daylight beyond the blinds, but other than that the room was dark.
“Harper, you need to get a hold of yourself. It’s just me in here now and I’ve dimmed the lights. What happened?”
His stance relaxed and his big head tilted toward her. Tears streaked his cheeks and she knew the pain had to be excruciating. Plucking several tissues from the box on the table, she approached him. “I have tissues I’m going to give you, okay? And your arm is bleeding. We need to make it stop. Okay, babe?”
“Yeah,” he croaked, obviously hurting. He held a hand out for the tissues. “I’m sorry I went off. She flicked on the lights and before I knew what was going on she had started doing things with my chest bandage. I didn’t hear her come in.”
Cat felt sick to her stomach. “I was sitting just outside, but I didn’t see her go in either. I’m sorry about that. I was supposed to be on duty and I dropped the ball.”
He leaned against the bed, hands over his face. “You weren’t on duty. I’m not a child.”
She knew he wasn’t but the guilt still nagged at her. Lost in memories, she hadn’t seen the woman enter the room.
“I’m going to touch you on the shoulder, okay?”
When her hand landed on the tense deltoid muscle, he reached up, grabbed her hand and dragged her into his heavy arms. Cat knew the hug was for his own peace of mind, but she savored the touch. For just a few seconds she allowed herself to burrow into his chest, the scalding heat of his skin wrapping her in a heavy cocoon.
It was no surprise to hear the strident kno
ck on the door of the room a few minutes later.
“I’d better go smooth some feathers.”
Even in the dim light she could see the flash of his white teeth as he grinned. “Just like old times, huh?”
Cat snorted. “Absolutely.”
When she returned to the room, Harper literally growled when she told him he would have to have another exam. But when the doctor came in he’d calmed to icy fury. Cat winced at the angry red torn skin around the bullet hole in his chest. The entrance wound had been trimmed and stitched, but they’d had to do surgery to remove the bullet. It had wedged against his shoulder blade in the back. The doctor had been amazed that the blade itself hadn’t been shattered.
Now, though, a couple of those external stitches had ripped out. Harper didn’t say anything as the area was numbed and re-stitched. In total there were now twenty-eight stitches in his chest.
Actually, the incident paved the way for his early release. Cat knew she had to get Harper out of there, not only for his peace of mind but her own as well. The primary care physician was a little hesitant, but when she assured him that he would have the same care just away from the hospital he seemed to relax a bit. When she hinted at the liability issues they were both dancing around, he agreed that Harper could be released, but only after a final night of rest.
Though he frowned at the delay, Harper seemed to understand that it was in his best interest. The hospital quieted down and for the most part the nurses left them alone that evening.
Duncan came later that night and sat with him. They told him about their plans to leave and he nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I wouldn’t stay here any longer than I had to either,” he admitted.
Harper felt bad for making Duncan sit here so long. The hospital brought up memories for all of them and h couldn’t wait to get out.
Cat went back to the hotel and crashed. Once again, though, she returned at the ass-crack of dawn.
The doctor also showed up early.
“I want you to wear your sling as much as possible and to avoid showers for a couple more days,” the doctor told them. “I’m sending you out with a couple of anti-inflammatory, pain and antibiotic prescriptions, but if you have issues with the wound, go to a hospital.”
Cat took all the aftercare paperwork and folded it away into her purse. One of the nurses knocked on the door and entered, carrying a bulky looking package. With a dirty look at Cat, she handed it to the doctor and quickly left.
Ripping the package open the doctor handed a set of dark glasses to Harper. “I know these are not fashionable, but you need to wear them. It will help with the sunlight and allow your healthy eye a chance to relax. It’s going to be doing double duty. Rest as much as you can and expect headaches.”
The longer he talked the more impatient Harper became. The average person probably wouldn’t notice the tightening of his jaw or the weight of his animosity in the air, but Cat did.
“Thank you so much, doctor. We really do appreciate the care we’ve received here.”
The man seemed to take the dismissal as exactly that and disappeared through the door shortly thereafter.
Less than a half hour later they were in the main lobby. Cat was amazed at how quickly they’d let him loose. Days ago she’d gone to a local mall and bought Harper a couple of outfits at the big men’s store, knowing that he would need something when he walked out. She was very glad she had now, otherwise he’d have been leaving in scrubs.
When she handed him the final item though, his jaw worked and he wouldn’t look at her for a long time. “I didn’t have time to grab one of yours when I left but I found this in one of those outdoor stores the other day.”
Harper opened the blade of the Kershaw knife. It wasn’t nearly as big as what he was used to carrying, but it was as big as she wanted to get him. He tested the weight of the blade and the sharpness of the edge before clipping it into the corner of his pocket. When he looked up there was appreciation in his expression. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed having something there. Thank you.”
Cat actually did have some idea. His hand had gone to his hip several times over the past few days, whether he realized it or not. “You’re welcome. Just don’t flash it at the nurses.”
He chuckled then winced, holding his chest with his un-slung arm. “What are they going to do, kick me out?”
Cat laughed. “I think they’re already kicking us out early. They just don’t want to deal with your temper tantrums. God forbid you hit one of their scrawny asses. You’d break them.”
He grimaced and she felt bad for being a wet blanket. Turning away, she left the room.
Chapter Four
While she went for the car, he sat in the obligatory exit wheelchair glowering at the world. At least she assumed he was glowering. He’d put the bulky glasses on almost immediately when they hit the sunlight. The orderly with him kept trying to talk, but Harper was not in the mood. She could almost feel the hostility rolling off him.
When she finally returned with the big GMC Yukon, the only vehicle she thought he would be comfortable riding in, he shoved himself out of the chair and stalked across the few feet of pavement. Cat wondered if he’d hurt his chest doing that—not that he’d let her know if he had. The sling was on his arm, but she didn’t expect it to stay there very long.
Cat put the SUV into drive and pulled out of the lot. She wanted to ask Harper if he was feeling okay, but his head was tipped back against the rest and he was breathing deeply, as if he couldn’t get enough of the fresh air.
“I couldn’t breathe in that place,” he admitted.
Cat marveled at his senses. Even with his eyes closed he’d known she was looking at him. That crazy sixth-sense of his kicking in. “Completely understandable. You have a lot of not so great memories in there. In several hospitals in several states and several countries.”
Harper grinned, the flash of teeth bold and vibrant. “At least this hospital wasn’t being bombed like the one I went through in Iraq.”
“Or in the path of a once in a lifetime blizzard like the time you were at Walter Reed.”
He gave her a nod, his smile fading. “You’ve been at most of them with me. I appreciate that, Cat.”
Wow. She sucked in a breath at his softly spoken words. “I was your wife. Where else would I have been?”
Harper rocked his head toward her. “You could have stayed home like a lot of the wives did.”
She shook her head, grimacing. “That’s not where a wife belongs when her husband is hurt. She belongs at his side. Rooting him on to recover as fully as possible.”
“There were a lot of guys that had no one, either in Germany or when they got home.”
“I know,” she admitted. “But with my parents living within easy driving distance, I had an advantage. They were always ready to watch the kids at a second’s notice.”
He was quiet for a long time then, but his head was still turned toward her. With those dark glasses on she couldn’t tell if he was awake or not.
Navigating the Amarillo streets she’d gotten used to over the past few days, she headed toward the interstate on-ramp. They would head north toward Denver for a little while, then they had a break in the middle at Cańon City. She hadn’t told him about renting the house and thought it best not to now. They needed to take some time together, out of the hospital environment.
It would be neutral ground where they could talk about things.
As she accelerated up the onramp of 287 North, he rolled his head on the seat again and leaned forward, hand on his brow.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Do I need to pull over?”
“No. Just some nausea. Keep going.”
Cat kept driving but she kept one eye on him the entire time. Eventually he settled back against the seat. “Do you mind if I lay this seat back? I think if I lay down I may feel better.”
“Absolutely. There’s a blanket on the seat behind mine. If you can reach that you can use
it for your head.”
It was an easy reach for his long arm normally, but with the sling on he had to be careful. When he did drag the blanket to him, he used it to cover his head completely. Cat frowned at the weird shape, but whatever he needed to do…
They drove for a few hours and had crossed into the upper corner of New Mexico when she stopped for gas and a bite to eat. Harper roused and dragged the blanket from his head, blinking sleepily. The glasses had come off under the blanket and he fumbled to get them back on to fight the afternoon sun.
“I’m sorry I conked out on you.”
Cat smiled at him as she pulled into the parking spot at a little but surprisingly busy restaurant connected to the gas station. “You’re fine. You should rest as much as you possibly can.”
They slid out of the vehicle and Cat watched to make sure he was steady on his feet. When he wavered just a bit she stepped close and wrapped her arm around his waist on the right, uninjured side. Harper shifted as if to nudge her away, but Cat held on. “Just go with it, stubborn.”
There was a grumble of laughter before his heavy arm landed on her shoulders. “Fine, stubborn. But if I go down we’re both going down.”
After those first couple of wavering steps he actually steadied out pretty well. Cat didn’t think he needed her support at all, but she kept her arm around him anyway, as if they were a couple out for a stroll. She was enjoying the contact with his hard body too much.
They entered the front door of the café and the hostess/waitress walked them back to a table Cat motioned to. It was the dimmest in the restaurant, so it would have to do. After the waitress left to get their drink orders, Harper slipped the glasses off the bridge of his nose and rubbed the area with his fingers. There were red marks on the high part of his nose where the glasses had rubbed. When the waitress returned he slipped them back on.
The woman handed them a couple of sticky menus and left to take care of other customers before returning to take their orders. The poor woman was run ragged, but gave them a smile as she scribbled on the pad. She promised to have the food out as soon as possible.
