Chapter Three

THE AGONY RADIATING from Tanner’s back temporarily winded him.

Even worse, the force of the fall must have wrenched the tubing from his catheter, meaning he was covered in his own piss. On the bright side, he hadn’t pulled the cath out of his Johnson.

His IV was also a goner. Blood flowed from the top of his hand.

The door to his room slid open. “Mr. Muldoon?”

After a startled screech and cry for backup, the overhead lights went on and a nurse rushed in. He didn’t recognize her. Or maybe he was half-passing out from pain? “What’s wrong with you? Why would you even think about leaving your bed?”

“My w-wife. I need to see my wife.” Summoning every ounce of strength, he tried pushing himself upright, but ultimately failed. Not only was it humiliating, but a devastating dose of reality that even when he did find Jenny, there was a chance he might never again be the man she’d once loved enough to marry. The only thing keeping her from leaving him now was their future son or daughter.

She hated Alaska. Their slow way of life.

Adding insult to injury, he’d believed their divorce to be final, but misfiled paperwork had brought Jenny back. Surprise—they were still married after all. If it hadn’t been for them reminiscing one night over a bottle of merlot, she never would have gotten pregnant and would be back in California with her sister.

Could she be there now? Could she have popped in to tell Tanner goodbye while he’d been sleeping?

Honestly, he could take a lot, but having her reject him after all they’d been through…

“Let us help clean you up, then get you back to bed,” one of two male nurses said.

Tanner’s eyes were so tear-filled, he could barely see three feet in front of him.

The pain. The fall. The fear of finally, forever having lost Jenny made Tanner forgot his current state of undress. Had he ever been more of a disaster?

Why would she even want him?

Because he was physically incapable of doing anything besides letting the nurses efficiently wipe him down after he’d lain in his own piss, Tanner stopped fighting.

A lifetime of agony later, he’d been landed exactly where he’d started with his catheter, IV and bed rails back in place.

“W-what time is it?” Tanner asked. “Where’s Stephie?”

“She won’t be in till Monday. Right now, it’s two a.m. Saturday morning.”

“And the date?”

“February 24th.”

Lord… Last thing Tanner remembered was Rose chattering about Valentine’s Day. He’d slept right through it. No wonder Jenny left him.

The male nurse sat on a short rolling stool, meeting his gaze at eye level. “Your doctor wants me to up your pain meds to allow you to sleep through the night. You can’t try escaping again, okay? It will only lengthen your recovery.”

Tanner nodded.

“Before I administer your meds, mind answering a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why? What in the world did you need to do so badly that you’d try escaping?”

“F-find my wife.”

“She’s here. Two floors below you. I promise, she’s perfectly safe. Stephie made a note in your file.”

Jenny wasn’t in California. Relief shimmered through him. But logic told him there was still a lot being left unsaid. “I-if she’s so safe, why hasn’t she been to see me? In fact, if she’s in such great health, why is she still here—at the hospital at all? Is something wrong with her? Our baby?”

The nurse sighed.

“Please…” The tears were back. They weren’t manly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. But for now, he couldn’t seem to stop. “No matter what you’re trying to hide, please tell me. She’s my wife. I have a right to know.”

“Okay, look…” The nurse glanced over his shoulder to ensure they were alone. “Man-to-man, because if something like this happened with my wife I’d want to know. From what I’ve heard, she suffered a head injury prior to your getting burned. Forgive my bluntness, but she’s in a coma.”

“W-what?” Tanner pushed himself up. Adrenaline had him ready to make another break. “I have to see her. What about our baby?”

“For your own safety, I’m delivering your meds now.” The nurse stabbed the business-end of a syringe into his IV’s port, then dropped the plunger with his thumb. “Your baby is fine, growing safely inside his or her mom. Literally, your wife could come out of this any day. Her family is with her and they’re praying for the best.”

“I haave to seeee heeeer…” Tanner’s words and vision slurred. “Nooo…” Not again. He didn’t want to fall into the blackness again. Sadly, he hadn’t been given a choice.

“I HEAR YOU had an adventure Saturday night.” Nurse Stephie was back, and judging by her disapproving tone, she’d brought attitude. She sat on the low stool alongside his bed, not backing down from his direct gaze.

“I need to see my wife.” The marker board across from him read Monday.

“If it’s any consolation,” she said, “her parents have been up to see you—a lot.”

“No more knock-out drug. I need to know what’s going on.”

“Even if it hurts?”

“Physical pain is nothing compared to losing control. Will you help me see my wife, or do I hatch another escape plan?”

“You are a persistent devil, but here’s the deal. Your back is in no shape to travel. While you’ve been sleeping, we’ve been changing the dressings twice daily. I speak from experience here, but the next part of your treatment is going to make you beg us to let you sleep.”

He snorted. “Whatever it takes, I need to see my wife.”

“Fair enough. Just know you’re not leaving this floor until you’ve made significant improvements.”

“What do I have to do?”

“For starters, let’s get you out of this bed, and into hydrotherapy. Since you claim to be an expert on handling pain, this should be a cake-walk.”

Getting shot multiple times, then breaking his femur, adding a concussion, plus a stomach bug couldn’t come close to describing the agony of hydrotherapy—having his wounds cleaned with water and bleach while Stephie and friends debrided his burns, using tweezers to pull away the dead tissue.

Through it all, he practiced compartmentalizing. His reunion with Jenny had become his mission objective, and failure wasn’t an option.

Days of agonizing torture continued under the guise of treatment. He pushed himself to his limit and beyond. When he should have been resting, range-of-motion exercises helped keep him sane.

Friends and Jenny’s family came and went. Mostly went. He didn’t mean to be rude—especially to her mom, but he wished Barbara understood how frustrating his life had become. Not that he used to be a control freak, but he did have a need to be in control. To have now lost that most basic part of himself felt wrong.

Tanner didn’t want to chitchat. He wanted to recover enough to earn the privilege of seeing his wife. He’d been a SEAL. He understood the concept of paying before playing.

So, he paid. In the currency of physical agony. He was improving, but not fast enough. He wanted to flip a magical switch and be healed.

Then one day in early March, Stephie entered his room, took her usual seat on the stool beside his bed, and smiled. Just smiled.

“What’s got you so happy?”

“If you’re going to be cranky, maybe I’ll keep the news to myself…”

Eye roll. He’d been through this routine before. She’d come in all chipper about a change in his routine, trying to present some new torture therapy in a positive light.

“Tanner…” Wait a minute. Was she crying? “It’s Jenny. She’s awake.”

“What?” His pulse shot up fast enough to trip his monitor. “I have to see her. Take me to her.” He pushed himself up, and this time had the strength to stay up. “Take me. Now.”

“Can you at least say please?”

He growled.

“Here’s how this is going down. While her doctors run tests, you’re going to have the rest of your daily treatment. Once I’ve got you in fresh bandages, I’ll personally take you to see her. Deal?”

Heart still racing, he nodded.

This was it. The day his life finally got back on track. Hope swirled through him, making him strong and once again whole. This was it—the first day of the rest of his life.

He couldn’t wait to get started.

Three agonizing hours later, Stephie kept her promise by showing up with a wheelchair. She helped him dress for the occasion with a clean hospital gown and thin cotton robe over the dressings on his back. He added the socks and slippers Jenny’s mother had brought. He shaved, brushed his teeth and tried to at least bring order to his too-long hair.

Excitement didn’t come close to describing the uncorked champagne bottle in his gut. All at once he was giddy and nervous. Thrilled yet scared. What if after everything they’d both been through, she still wanted the divorce?

Impossible. He refused to go there.

She’d need rehabilitation and he’d help her every step of the way. As her husband, that was not only his right, but his duty. Only he didn’t view caring for her as an obligation, but an honor.

The sensation of leaving the burn unit was bizarre—so much noise and motion. Conversations and intercom messages and too-bright informational posters urging him to check his cholesterol and have regular lung screenings if he smoked. He’d been to hospitals dozens of times in his past—mostly to visit friends—yet all of this felt foreign.

While waiting for an elevator, Stephie said, “It’s a lot to take in.”

“No kidding.”

“I’m guessing you’ll be released in a couple weeks. I was here for the better part of a year. When I finally got out, I had no job, no apartment.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you get burned?”

“Grease fire. I used to be an aspiring chef. One second I was on the phone, arguing with a supplier, the next, I was trying to find the fire extinguisher through a thick cloud of smoke. The rest gets hazy.”

“You became a nurse after your burns healed?”

The elevator car arrived with a ding.

Tanner winced when Stephie rolled him over the slight bump to enter.

“I did. Spending that much time dependent on others to care for me made me want to pay it forward. My whole foodie world felt shallow. Luckily, I landed a couple scholarships and the rest is history.”

“You are good,” he managed through a ridiculously tight throat. His eyes welled with tears. In that instant, he was beyond grateful not just for Stephie’s care, but to be alive. To be finally seeing Jenny. The sudden upswell of emotions was as foreign as it was disconcerting. The worst of all of this was behind them, making room for a fresh start. “I’m sorry you got burned, but you’re a seriously great nurse.”

“What was that? An actual compliment from Mister Grumpy Pants?” He heard the smile in her voice.

“Sorry. I can be a bit of a hard-ass.”

“You think?”

“I know. But I’m sorry. Please know it’s not personal.”

“I get it.” She wheeled him in silence down endless corridors with too-bright lights. They passed crowded visiting areas and other patients walking with IV poles. Nurses and orderlies and CNAs. The hospital teemed with life.

Finally, Tanner did, too.

For weeks, he’d felt dead inside, but now every inch of him felt vibrantly alive. The pain in his back was still there, but different. Made bearable through hope for a blindingly bright future. Now that Jenny was awake, they could talk about the baby. About where she wanted to live once they went home to Kodiak Gorge. They’d need to rebuild their lives, but that was okay. Because they had each other.

Stephie paused in front of closed double doors. A sign read: Long-Term Care Unit.

“Before we go in,” she said, “you need to be ready for the fact that your wife might be different. Her speech might be slurred or she might be angry. Some people emerge from comas cussing a blue streak. Everyone’s different. Just be patient, all right?”

He nodded. “She’s going to be great.”

“Hey—” She pressed a round automated access button. Double doors opened with a mechanical hum. “I’m glad you’re excited. Just know she may look perfect on the outside, but on the inside, she probably still needs to heal.”

“I get it,” he snapped. “Just go.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please. You want me to beg? Hell, if you won’t take me, I’ll leap out of this chair and walk myself.”

“Calm down, tiger. No need for further heroics.”

She pushed him onto the quiet ward. Whereas patients on his ward often cried out or moaned, this place had a different vibe.

Visiting families looked hollow.

Shell-shocked like the refugees he’d seen in war-torn countries.

He felt bad for them—whatever their situations may be. But he refused to let their sadness affect his joy.

“You good?” Stephie asked outside of Room 311. The door was open. Sunlight shone through. One more sign all was right in his world.

“Hell, yeah. Let’s go.”

Anticipation made his chest feel too full, as if he couldn’t catch an adequate breath. Then Stephie pushed his wheelchair down a stubby hall and finally he saw her—his Jenny. There were other people in the room. Her parents. Her sister. A nurse. But for Tanner, everything and everyone fell away.

The two of them were all that mattered. All that had ever mattered.

He used to pride himself on holding his emotions in check, regardless of the situation. Maybe it was the lower dose of drugs still in his system. Maybe the fire had changed him on a cellular level. Regardless of the cause, he didn’t even try stopping his silent tears of joy.

“You’re so beautiful…” Her long dark hair had been replaced by a short pixie cut. There was none of the makeup she used to painstakingly apply. She’d lost so much weight that her brown eyes looked too big for her delicate features. But something about her half-smile, the way her pale complexion glowed, made her ethereal. She’d emerged from the fire in the form of an angel. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.”

Drawing a fuzzy pink blanket up to her neck, instead of reaching out to him, she withdrew. Her gaze narrowed. She bit her lower lip.

“Hon, what’s wrong? Aren’t you happy to see me?” He turned to her parents—Barbara and Ian. “What’s wrong?”

“Look…” Ian stepped forward. His dark expression turned Tanner’s shimmering relief to dread. Had something gone wrong with their baby? “I’m not sure how to say this, but—”

“Daddy, let me.” Jenny forced a smile that didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. Her voice sounded hoarse. “I’m sorry,” she said to Tanner. “My parents… They told me…”

“Take your time,” Tanner said when she seemed to struggle for her next words. “Now, that you’re better, we have all the time in the world.” He turned to Stephie. “Wheel me closer. I need to hold her hands.” When his nurse complied, he held out his hands to his wife, but she crossed her arms and shook her head. What the hell?

“I’m sorry,” the only woman he’d ever loved said. “But even though I’ve been told we’re married, I don’t know you.”