Joey?”
First he wanted answers. “I’m happy to, but what’s the diagnosis?”
Her gaze shifted to Joey. “Minor concussion and a closed fracture. The bleeding was a surface wound.”
Devon nodded. “I was afraid it was a compound fracture.”
Her focus shifted to Joey. “I hope they’ll let me take him in for a visit. They’d both feel better.”
He nodded, admitting to himself he’d feel better, too, if he saw her. “Go ahead. I’ll be here.”
She managed a half grin. “Thanks.” Turning her attention again to the child, she patted his head. “I’ll be back in a minute, sweetie. Okay?”
“’Kay.” The response was accompanied with the jingle of Devon’s keys.
Neely hurried away again, and Joey held up the key ring. “Go for a ride to see Mama.”
Devon could barely focus, and he ached everywhere but especially for the boy. “We have to wait, pal. Then maybe you can see her.” He prayed they’d let the toddler into the room even for a moment. The child had been brave throughout the whole mess. He was bright as a star and sweet as sugar—maybe like his mom.
Joey rested his head against his shoulder, and Devon closed his eyes a moment. The feel of the boy in his arms took him back to when his daughter Kaylee was about that size. She loved to cuddle, and he loved snuggling to her, smelling the sweetness of her hair and the scent of innocence. As Joey calmed, stillness settled over Devon. He relaxed his shoulders and took advantage of the silence.
“Devon.”
He jerked his head and stared bleary eyed at Neely. Joey wriggled against him, arising from his sleep. They’d both gone to dreamland, and now he faced Ashley’s sister, embarrassed. “And I’m supposed to be watching this young man.”
She shook her head, a calmer look on her face. “Neither of you needed watching. I didn’t mean to wake you. I know you’ve had a horrible night, but they gave me permission to bring Joey down for a few minutes.” She bent over and hoisted the toddler in her arms. “You’re getting heavy, big boy.”
“I’m a big boy.” He grinned at her, then turned his dimpled smile to Devon.
Devon pressed his back from the chair cushion and roused himself upward. He realized this ended his excuse for sticking around. “I suppose I should go then.”
“Don’t go.” She raised her hand. “Unless you must. Ashley wants to talk with you a minute if you can wait. I won’t be long with him.” She touched Joey’s cheek. “Or if you’re too tired, I can—”
His palm flexed upward to stop her. “No, I’m fine. I’d be happy to stay.”
“Thanks. She’ll appreciate it.” She turned and headed to the door.
He sank into the chair, his heartbeat playing a rhythm against his chest. The sensation threw him. He’d received a thank-you from many people he’d helped during one disaster after another, and he’d never reacted with this kind of anticipation.
He stretched his legs and folded his hands across his empty belly, searching for a logical explanation. The boy. That was it. Joey reminded him of Kaylee. Since she lived with her mother while he had only a few days with her during his off time, he felt cheated. He missed so many firsts and heard about them secondhand.
Divorce was a nightmare, especially when it wasn’t his doing. He’d taken months to sort through his emotions and to understand what happened. No affair. No sensible reason. Gina announced she was depressed and unhappy. She needed a change.
A change. The word ripped through him. Everyone needed a change once in a while, but not one that ended a marriage. He’d been a good husband...he thought. A hard worker. A loving husband and father. He asked what he’d done wrong. She said nothing.
Maybe that was it. He’d done nothing. Perhaps her life wasn’t exciting enough, while his was too exciting fighting fires and saving lives. He even rescued kittens in trees and dogs trapped in sewer pipes. Sleep swooped over him, and he rubbed his eyes. His head spun with weariness, and he needed to forget the past. She’d wanted a divorce, and his crazy forty-eight-hour shifts complicated having physical custody of Kaylee. Instead, regrettably, he settled for visitation.
He drew in air to clear his mind. Going over it again solved nothing. It was the way it was, and he’d learned to enjoy the time he had with his sweet daughter.
Devon rose, smelling the acrid coffee coming from the urn. He took a step toward the pot, but his stomach churned. He dismissed the idea. He needed food. No. He needed sleep.
“She’s ready to see you.”
His pulse skipped hearing Neely’s voice.
She shifted Joey in her arms. “I’m going to take this boy home and give him some food and then off to bed. Thanks so much for all you’ve done. You’ve been more than kind.”
“I’m glad I was there.” Somehow the words meant more to him than they should. He gazed at Joey. “And don’t worry about the house. I’ll check to make sure everything’s safe before I hit the sack.”
She nodded her thanks and gave him directions to Ashley’s room. With another nod, she pivoted, clutching Joey in her arms and heading for the exit.
Devon strode down the hall, his legs pushing him forward, eagerness in his step. Helping a neighbor, anyone, always uplifted him. But the image of her pinned beneath the trunk depleted his breath. Strange. He’d seen those scenarios many times in his career. People hurt, bleeding, dead. Why this reaction? For one thing, he needed sleep. That had to be all it was.
Chapter Two
Ashley longed to throw her legs over the mattress and head home. She missed Joey even though she knew Neely and her dad would wrap their love around him. She worried about other damages that might have happened to the house besides the broken front window. And then, a shattered window meant someone could break in and steal... Steal what? She didn’t have anything worth stealing. Except maybe her computer. That was her most valuable possession.
Well, she could purchase another computer. Photographs, little gifts Adam had given her. Those precious items could never be replaced.
Life was precious. She thanked God her life had been spared. Joey needed her. One parent was better than none. One loving parent was a precious gift to a child. She grinned, recalling while growing up how she had been covered in love by her father.
Footsteps sounded in the hall, a heavier step than the cushioned shoes the nurses wore. Was it him? Neely mentioned his name, but she’d already forgotten. She’d seen him before, mowing his lawn a few houses down the street from hers. She shook her head, recalling that when she’d first opened her foggy eyes, she’d thought he had been an angel. Then she’d focused, noticing the dark bristles on his chin, and calculated angels didn’t have to shave. Before the smile faded, her memory became a reality.
He stood in the doorway, looking hesitant.
“Please, come in.” She motioned to the only chair in the room. “I’m sure you’re tired and want to get out of here.” She lifted her shoulders. “I know I do.”
A grin brightened his face, but as he moved toward the chair, she spotted more than weariness in his eyes. The expression aroused her curiosity. “At least I’m more alert than I was when you found me.” She extended her hand. “Sorry, but I don’t remember your name.”
He grasped her hand and squeezed. “Devon Murphy. I live on Drayton, too, a few—”
“I know. I’ve seen you outside sometimes.” On her walks, she’d admired the neat two-story home of redbrick with muted moss-green trim. She’d envied the second-floor balcony and sometimes imagined what it might be like to sit there on a summer day.