bets by fixing you up with a cancer specialist?” he asked quietly.
Susie’s cheeks pinkened. She pleated the fabric of her long, flowing skirt between her fingers. “My guess is they thought Whit would understand what I’ve been through, and from that perspective, we’d have a lot in common.”
Tyler tensed. “And do you?”
Susie shrugged. “I think we could be friends.”
Friends sounded a lot better to Tyler than boyfriend and girlfriend. Although why he should care so much stymied him. He and Susie weren’t headed for the altar. He wasn’t headed for it, period. “So where are we off to?” he asked her lightly, willing to do anything to erase the hurt from her amber eyes.
“The hospital.” Susie finally put the keys in the ignition, but delayed actually starting her truck’s engine. “Whit asked me to look in on a patient of his. Which is why I wanted you to tag along. I don’t like the idea of going in there alone.”
Tyler knew Susie avoided hospitals whenever possible.
Her worst memories were set there.
“So…” Susie gave him a look he was hard-pressed to deny. “You want to follow me in your truck? Then when we’re finished we can each go our separate ways?”
Tyler nodded. That was Susie, practical as ever. “I’ll meet up with you in the LCH parking lot,” he promised.
A few minutes later, they were walking through the entrance of Laramie Community hospital. After a short elevator ride, they were stepping out into the hospital’s brand-new oncology wing.
Susie stopped by the desk to tell the nurse she and Tyler were there to visit Emmaline Clark.
“I hope you can cheer her up. She’s been pretty down,” the nurse said.
An understatement, Tyler and Susie soon found out.
The pixie-faced adolescent was seated in bed, an IV hooked up to her arm. Thin and pale, she wore an auburn wig with a fake-looking sheen to it on her head. It was cut in a hairstyle for someone much older.
Her mother and father, an emotionally exhausted-looking couple in their midfifties, were seated in chairs adjacent to the bed. No one was talking. No one was watching the TV mounted overhead, although it was turned to a popular sitcom. There was an air of glum tension that permeated every ounce of air in the room.
Like a beam of sunshine sent down from the heavens, Susie stepped forward with a smile and extended her hand. She introduced herself and Tyler to Bill and Hedda Clark.
“You’re Luke and Meg Carrigan’s daughter,” Hedda said.
Susie nodded. “This is Tyler McCabe, a vet at the Laramie Animal Clinic.”
Tyler noted no interest at all from the patient in the bed.
“If you all want to take a break, Tyler and I can sit with Emmaline for a while,” Susie offered.
The Clarks—who’d obviously been expecting Susie’s visit—exchanged looks, then excused themselves politely.
“I’m not talking to anyone right now,” Emmaline muttered with a pointed look at Susie the moment her parents were out of earshot. “So you may as well leave.”
Susie perched on the window ledge. Despite her earlier trepidation about coming to the hospital, she looked quite calm. “Don’t blame you. I never wanted to talk to anyone when I lost my hair, either.”
Emmaline slowly turned her head toward Susie’s empathetic tone and studied her for a moment. “You don’t look sick.”
“I’m not. At least I don’t think I am,” Susie amended quickly. “Once you’ve had cancer, you never know.”
Emmaline turned her attention to Tyler. “Are you a survivor, too?”
He shook his head, unable to imagine what it must feel like to endure what Susie and Emmaline had.
“I brought Tyler along because he always knew what to say when I was sick.” Susie patted the place next to her and Tyler sat down.
“Illness doesn’t scare him,” Susie continued.
Not now, anyway, Tyler thought. There had been a time…
“Yeah, well, maybe he could give my friends lessons,” Emmaline said angrily. She tore off her awful wig and tossed it at the foot of the bed. It flopped to the floor. She didn’t look as if she much cared what happened to it.
“I take it they’ve deserted you?”
“In spades. Most of them only live about an hour from here, but even before we moved, all but one or two had stopped coming by.” Emmaline’s lower lip trembled. Moisture glittered in her eyes. “They couldn’t even be bothered to call or text message.”
“The tendency when people are sick is to leave them alone so they can rest and get well,” Tyler interjected gently. “Have you tried to contact them?”
Emmaline pouted. “Well…no.”
“Maybe you should,” Tyler said.
And maybe, Susie appeared to think, shooting Tyler a warning look only he could see, Emmaline shouldn’t….
Tyler shrugged and continued anyway, “They could just be waiting to hear you’re up for a visit or two or three.”
“I don’t know.” Emmaline studied the white blanket on her bed.
“I had the same experience with my friends not coming around when I was undergoing chemotherapy,” Susie said.
Emmaline lifted her head and asked Susie, “How old were you when you were diagnosed?”
“Sixteen.”
Sweat beaded on the top of Emmaline’s bald head. “I’m fourteen. I’ve been sick for two years.”
“It sucks,” Susie stated with heartfelt passion.
“Tell me about it.” Emmaline hit the remote, and the TV clicked off. She focused all her attention on Susie. “When did you get well?”
“I had my last chemo when I was eighteen.”
Her long sigh broke the silence in the room. “I hope I don’t have to wait that long,” Emmaline lamented.
Tyler did, too. “So what year are you in school?” he asked.
Emmaline smiled, just a little bit. “I’m a freshman, although I’ve yet to attend a single day of high school here. So far, all my lessons are being done at home.”
A fact that only added to her loneliness, Tyler guessed. “When are you going to get to go to class again?”
Emmaline shrugged. “Maybe around the first of December if I make it through the next few weeks of chemo. Not that I know anyone here. We just
