of his chin. “And she didn’t have any kids. How old is—”
He squared up at the sight of his mother rounding the corner of the hallway just past ICU with a reluctant little girl in tow. The child homed in on Nurse Maggie, down-shifted for traction and marched past the nurse’s station like a little soldier, all business. “They took my mom somewhere, but they won’t tell me what’s wrong with her. Do you know?”
“Not yet, sweetie. The doctor’s trying to figure that out right now.”
“Can’t she wake up?”
“The doctor’s working on getting her to wake up. Has she been sick very long?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I think so. I know she was sick on the bus. She doesn’t like to ride the bus. She said she’d be better after she got to sleep in a bed for a while.” She turned and stared at the ICU door. “Why can’t I stay with her?”
“Because the doctor wants us all out of the way for right now. He’s the one who can help your mom, but he needs room to maneuver.” Maggie scooted to the edge of her chair and touched the back of her lanky little arm, testing. “I know it’s hard to wait.”
Tension melted visibly from the small shoulders as Maggie’s hand stirred, but still the girl stared as though she could see through walls. “What’s he doing to her?”
“They’re taking pictures. Do you know what an X-ray is?”
“Yes. I had one on my arm last year.”
“After the doctor’s finished, they’ll bring her back to that same room, which is where we take extra special care of our patients. You’ll be able to see her again for a few minutes. I’ll make sure.” Maggie stood, sliding her hand over the girl’s shoulder as security against her promise. “Are you hungry?”
An attendant appeared and called Maggie’s number with a gesture. She patted the little girl’s shoulder. “Hilda, would you take…”
“Star,” Hilda supplied.
“…Star to the lounge and get her something to eat?”
Once Star was out of earshot, Maggie turned to Sam. “Did the woman come looking for you?”
“You’ll have to ask her.”
She stared at him for a moment as though she thought he had more answers than he’d given. Like he’d ever known what was on Merilee’s mind, which was why he answered the way he did. He wasn’t being a smart-ass.
But Maggie must have thought so. She distanced herself with a step, a look and a tone. “Let’s hope we get the chance.”
Sam nodded, but Maggie turned from him and missed it. She had nursing to do.
Hoping had never helped much where Merilee was concerned, but he was willing to give it another shot at Maggie’s suggestion. Hope she could beat whatever this was and come back to her kid. Meanwhile he had to figure out who the hell he should notify if hope didn’t fly. Heading for his car, he thought up one more hope—that the person to contact in Merilee’s behalf didn’t turn out to be Vic Randone.
He checked in at the office and then took a run out to the Osterhaus place, which was tucked into the foothills just below the little high country town of Bear Root. Old Bill Osterhaus had been dead more than a year, and his relatives had sold what little stock and equipment he’d had, but they were still fighting over what to do with the property. His neighbor, Minnie, who was as old as the hills with a head twice as hard, had visions of “squatters” moving in. Sam stopped in to let the old woman know that the only squatters he’d found this time were four-legged, but that she should call him whenever she had concerns. He meant it. Hell, she was a voter.
He meant to drive right on past the hospital when he got back into town, but he hadn’t heard any news, and it was just as easy to stop as call, especially on the chance there had been some improvement. He found Merilee—or the shell of Merilee—alone in the cool, antiseptic-smelling, closely monitored room. He straddled a chair, rested his forearms over the backrest, listened to a soft rush of air and a machine’s rhythmic beep. Watching her pale purple eyelids twitch, waiting for something else to stir, wondering what, if anything, was going on inside that crazy head—oh, yeah, he’d been there before.
“What’s goin’ on, Merilee?” He stacked his fists end to end and rested his chin in the curl of his thumb and forefinger. “Tell me. Maybe I can—” damn your thick head, Beaudry, don’t even think it “—help.”
Saying it was even worse than thinking it. Luckily, the only other ears in the room seemed to be shut down.
“But who knows, huh? Maybe you can hear me, so…well, your little girl’s safe. She’s a beauty. Looks just like you. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her much. Didn’t wanna scare her with a lot of questions right off. Is she old enough to tell me what’s goin’ on?”
He glanced at the monitor that made her heartbeat visible. A blip on the radar. She had that much going on. For now.
“Anyway, she’s with my mother. I told you about Ma. She runs the store here. I can’t remember what all I told you about Bear Root. Back when I met you, I thought I’d left home for good.” He straightened his back, drew a deep breath just to be sure he could and sighed. “Live and learn, huh?” He reached for her hand.
He’d lived ten years and learned many more hard lessons since his roughneck days, knocking around the Western oil fields with Vic Randone, the buddy he’d met up with in Alaska. He’d gone from knocking around to being knocked out—almost literally—by a beautiful, butterfingered waitress in a Wyoming truck stop. Merilee Brown. Talk about a knockout. The ghost of a woman nearly lost in hospital-bed sheets and struggling for every ventilated breath wasn’t much more than a sliver of the vibrant girl Sam remembered. His first glimpse of her laughing face had been branded into his brain. She’d slopped some water on the floor behind his chair—got him in the back with it, but he didn’t mind—and then came back and slipped in it and conked him over the head with a tray. He’d caught her and fallen for her in the same instant.
Merilee, Merilee, Merilee, Merilee, life is but a dream.
She was magic. She could be silly one moment and thoughtful the next. She wore her heart on her sleeve, but she changed it with her clothes. She was passionate about being passionate, and her passion show never failed to captivate Sam. She could get just as excited about the color of an apple as the purchase of a much-needed pair of shoes. She made no apologies for doing what she had to do to get what she wanted, but she gave easily, and she never kept score. She was everything Sam wasn’t, didn’t have the makings or the means to be, but always wondered what it would be like. Rubbing shoulders with magic was one way to find out.
Vic hadn’t been with him at the truck stop that day, but he was never far away, and it wasn’t long before they’d become a threesome. On the outside they were three carefree pals stopping over in Wyoming on their way to the rest of their lives. But on the inside, there were cares. Big, bad, unbearable cares. Merilee cared for living on the edge. Vic cared for money. Sam, who had cared for getting out of Bear Root, now cared for Merilee. With cares safely stowed in their separate little bags they’d left Wyoming for California, where Vic made some easy money, Merilee made some edgy choices, and Sam eventually made peace with becoming the odd man out by doing what generations of Indian men before him had done. He’d enlisted.
