“I know, sweetheart.” Tory’s fingers trembled in Reese’s hair. “What do you think, Jill?”

“It’s no worse.”

Tory closed her eyes. When she opened them, Reese’s questioning gaze was fixed on hers. “That’s good, honey.”

“No surgery then?”

“Maybe I should decide that,” K.T. announced dryly as she moved in next to Jill and reached for Reese’s arm. Her dark eyes steady on Reese’s blue ones, she said, “I’m Dr. O’Bannon. I’m a surgeon.”

“Doctor,” Reese said with a hint of her old authority in her voice. “I’m hoping I won’t need your services.”

K.T. didn’t respond as she lifted and turned Reese’s arm, then probed upward towards her shoulder. “Hurt up here?”

“No.”

“Make a fist.”

Reese tried, but couldn’t quite close her fingers.

“That bother you anywhere?” K.T. questioned.

“Just feels stiff.” Reese frowned. “Mostly I just feel really beat. I can’t seem to stay awake.”

“That’s the effect of the dehydration and the bacterial toxins,” K.T. murmured without taking her eyes from the wound. After a moment, she gently placed Reese’s arm back on the bed. Then she grasped the guardrail in both hands and leaned over slightly so that her face was all that Reese could see. “I don’t see very much change in the physical appearance of your arm in the last four hours. That may be a good thing, or it might not. The safest thing would be to take you to the operating room, remove the sutures, irrigate the wound, and excise any dead tissue.”

“How would that affect the function of my arm?” Reese said, trying hard to concentrate. The headache was slowly returning, and with it, an overwhelming desire to close her eyes.

“Maybe not at all.”

“Maybe?”

The surgeon blew out a slightly exasperated breath. “I can’t tell you for sure until I see what the tissue looks like.”

“Worst-case… scenario?”

“Sensory loss, primarily in the upper aspect of your hand, weakness of wrist extension, decreased grip strength.”

Reese’s eyes flicked to Tory. “Can we wait?”

“Honey…”

“Sheriff Conlon,” K.T. interrupted. “If we go now, we minimize the risk…”

“K.T., let me talk to her alone for a minute,” Tory said quietly.

Reese stiffened slightly and shifted her gaze back to the surgeon. The tone of familiarity in Tory’s voice was too much to be coincidence. So you’re the idiot who let her go.

“I have a patient to check on in the trauma unit,” K.T. said stiffly. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Reese,” Tory said softly, “I know how important it is for you to have the full use of your arm. But we can’t take any chances. I… I can’t risk losing you.”

“I would never willingly do something that might take me away from you.” Reese lifted her left hand and when Tory grasped it, she entwined her fingers with her lover’s. “But if there’s a possibility that we can ride this out without the surgery, I want to try.”

“Jill feels we can wait a couple more hours,” Tory said, knowing that she was making perhaps the most important decision of her life. Searching her heart and mind, she settled herself and answered, “I agree with her.”

“Okay then,” Reese said with a sigh, closing her eyes. “If you don’t mind… I think I’ll sleep for a bit.”

Tory laid Reese’s hand down on the bed and brushed her fingers over Reese’s hair, then kissed her. “I’ll be right here, sweetheart. You just rest.”

“You don’t have to stay, Bri,” Tory said with a weary sigh. Reese had been transferred upstairs from the emergency room to the intermediate intensive care unit for observation. The isolation room was equipped with the standard hospital bed, freestanding bedside table, and several chairs. In addition, a small sofa had been provided in the event that family members wanted to stay for extended periods of time. It was easier for visitors to remain in the patient’s room rather than the regular waiting room, thereby avoiding the cumbersome process of scrubbing and donning cover gowns every time they reentered the room.

“I want to wait,” Bri said as she settled on the sofa next to Tory. “If that’s okay?”

Tory leaned her head against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. “Sure.”

It was noon. Twelve hours said she had gotten the call from the EMTs about a multi-vehicular accident with victims trapped in the wreckage. It was a call like so many late night calls she had gotten in the seven years she’d been Provincetown’s year-round doctor. She and Reese had responded to any number of the same calls over the time they’d been a couple and were used to working together. It had all seemed so routine the night before, but then that’s how so many life-altering events began…as something so ordinary. And now, she was waiting while her lover’s future, and possibly her life, hung in the balance.

“Just a few weeks ago we found out about the baby.” Tory’s voice broke on the words. “Now…”

“Tory,” Bri whispered softly as she edged closer on the sofa, alarmed by the tears leaking from beneath Tory’s closed lids. Tentatively, she placed her hand on the weeping woman’s shoulder. “She’s going to be okay.”

Tory struggled with the rush of emotions, but she was so tired and so terrified and before she could stop herself, she’d turned into the warm body next to hers. Bri’s arms came around her and Tory held on, pressing her face to the strong shoulder as she wrapped one arm around Bri’s waist. She felt a soft cheek against her hair and the whisper of breath against her ear as she let the tears come.

“She’ll be fine,” Bri murmured, pulling her close.

When Nelson Parker arrived at the hospital and asked for the whereabouts of his deputy sheriff, he was directed to a room in the intermediate care unit on the second floor. The door was closed when he arrived, and looking up and down the hall, he saw no one around. Carefully, he pushed the door open and peeked in.

The room was dim, and at first all he could make out was the single hospital bed in the center of the room holding a sheet-covered form. His gaze drifted to the small sofa tucked into one corner, and his eyes widened. His daughter sat with a woman cradled in her arms, her chin resting on the top of the tousled auburn hair. He and Bri stared at one another for an instant, and then he slowly closed the door.

Nelson leaned with his back against the wall and replayed the image in his mind. He kept being reminded every few months how little he understood of his daughter. Bri was his child; he remembered a million images of her growing up, the kind of snapshot moments he supposed most men had of their children. But he didn’t know who she had become. In fact, he didn’t have any point of reference to even imagine who she was. Victoria King was one of the strongest women he’d ever met, and his daughter was in there holding her, sheltering her, it looked like. He felt inexplicably proud.

The door opened softly, and Bri stepped out. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Bri,” he said gruffly, his throat a little scratchy. “How’s Reese?”

“She’s been asleep since they brought her up here, maybe two hours ago. The doctors are supposed to look at her again soon.”

“She…uh…she pretty sick?”

Bri swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” he growled. “How’s Tory taking it?”

“She’s worn out. She’s been asleep, too.”

“You okay?”

I’m fucking scared out of my mind. Bri looked away. “Yeah.”

Nelson squeezed her shoulder with one huge hand, then slid his arm around her and pulled her close. He hugged her for a second, amazed as always by her solid strength. “Reese is tough.”

“Yeah,” Bri said. She’d never leave Tory. But people do, don’t they? We lost Mom.

Bri stepped away. “I oughta get Tory some lunch. She forgets, and you know…with her being…you know. Reese would be pissed if we let Tory get sick.”

“You go back in,” Nelson said quickly, jumping at the chance to do something, anything, remotely useful. He did not want to walk in there and see Reese on the edge. He didn’t think he could take it. “I’ll get her a sandwich. That would be good, right?”

“Yeah. And juice. Juice seems to be okay.”

“Great. Got it,” the Sheriff said as he hurried away.

Bri glanced at the clock down the hall at the nurse’s station. Almost three p.m. She thought about calling Carre. Carre would tell her that Reese would be fine, and make her believe it. Carre’d always been able to do that…make her see the light in the dark, no matter how bad it seemed. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the wall. I wish you were here. I wish you knew how much I need you.

After a minute, she opened her eyes, straightened her shoulders, and slipped back into the room.

Reese opened her eyes, blinked, and focused on the faces leaning over her. The surgeon was closest to her, her dark eyes opaque, her austerely handsome features expressionless. Tory stood across from her. Focusing on those tender green eyes, Reese smiled. “Is this the only show in town?”

A flicker of joy flared in Tory’s eyes, the first sign of happiness in hours. The corner of her mouth lifted in a soft smile. “Apparently, Sheriff, you’re it.”

“It’s good to see you,” Reese whispered, lifting her free hand, which Tory immediately grasped. Then, Reese turned toward K.T. O’Bannon. “How do things look, Doctor?”

“Stable,” K.T. said, her gaze on Reese’s arm. Then she seemed to reconsider. “Actually, a bit better than that. I think the cellulitis has receded and the swelling is a little less.”

“I guess that means you and I won’t be getting together then.”

K.T.‘s dark eyes rose to meet the deep blue ones. She smiled faintly. “I guess not.” The she glanced across Reese’s body to Tory and said quietly, “Can we speak outside?”

Tory looked as if she were about to object, but Reese squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Go ahead, love.”