“It’s not any different. A lie of omission is a lie just the same. But we don’t know for certain that Jeremy is your child. Meg was very confused that summer. Upset. She made it clear to everyone that she made not just one but a whole series of mistakes.”
I’d do anything if I could go back and do it all over…do it differently…but I can’t. Meg had said. And because I can’t change things…I think it’s best that I leave those mistakes in the past. Had she been talking about their brief tryst? Luke wondered, upset. Or something…someone else? And would he ever know? If that really was the case, did he want to know?
All Luke knew for certain was that Meg was not only responsible to a fault, she was one of the most selfless people Luke knew. She was always the one giving help, whether it be as a nurse, a sister or a friend. She never asked for help for herself. But that didn’t make what Meg had done right, either, in cutting not just Jeremy’s father, whoever he was, out of her and Jeremy’s lives, but Luke, as well. As a friend he could have helped her. Sure it would have been difficult if he wasn’t Jeremy’s father, but he had still loved her and wanted to be with her and they would have figured out a way to work everything out.
“In any case,” John continued, oblivious to the direction of Luke’s thoughts, “this situation is going to take very careful handling, Luke.”
Wasn’t that the case, Luke thought, as footsteps sounded in the adjacent waiting room. Seconds later, Kate Marten—the hospital’s thirty-year-old grief-and-trauma counselor—rapped on the door to Luke’s private office and popped her head in. Looking as pretty and capable as ever, she said, “John, one of your nephew’s boys is down in the E.R. Apparently, Kevin—the six-year-old—fell off a porch roof into some bushes. His brothers rescued him and brought him in. They’re all pretty shook up and they’re asking for you.”
“Where’s Sam?” John asked, frowning. Both men rose simultaneously.
A baffled expression on her face, Kate lifted her hands and spread them wide. “According to Meg Lockhart, no one’s been able to locate your nephew thus far. That’s why they want you. They figure if anyone can track Sam down, you can. They want Luke, since he’s now the family doc of record, to take a look at Kevin.”
Together the three headed to the E.R. at a brisk clip.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do without you when you leave next fall,” John McCabe told Kate affectionately.
“Where are you going?” Luke asked curiously.
John was quick to fill him in. “Kate’s getting married to Major Craig Farrell. He’s an air force pilot.”
“Oh, yeah?” Luke held the elevator door for them. “When?”
Kate suddenly looked a little uneasy. She situated herself at the back of the elevator between John and Luke, while Luke pushed the button for the first floor. “We haven’t set the wedding date yet.” Kate smiled and turned her eyes to the closing doors. “But we will as soon as Craig knows when he can get leave.”
“And after you marry?” Luke asked, seeming to recall someone telling him that Kate had spent her entire life—except college—right there in Laramie, first as a guidance counselor at the high school, where her dad still worked as the football coach, then as a crisis counselor at the hospital.
“Craig is career military,” Kate elaborated as the elevator came to a stop. She continued casually as the doors opened and they headed out, “So he and I will go wherever he’s stationed for the next twenty-five years. Then he’s going to leave the service and work for a commercial airline—hopefully one based in Texas.”
“Sounds like an adventure,” Luke said as the trio continued making their way through the halls.
Kate smiled, a little less enthusiastically than Luke would have expected, and said nothing else. Clearly preferring not to talk any more about her personal life, Kate led the way around the corner, past a big sign advertising the hospital’s annual chili cook-off, to the emergency room admitting area.
Four boys were gathered anxiously in the waiting room. The oldest looked like a senior in high school and was wearing running shoes and athletic clothes. The next tallest was dressed in neatly pressed khakis and a shirt—his hair was blow dried to perfection and he radiated expensive cologne. The third tallest was wearing trendy clothing and had an air of mischief about him. The youngest of the four standing out in the hall looked to be about twelve or so and wore glasses and clothes that could only be described as nerdy. All four boys rushed forward out into the hallway when they saw John McCabe. All spoke at once.
“You gotta do something, Uncle John! Kevin’s bleeding!”
“I can’t find Dad—I forget where he’s supposed to be today.”
“I know we were supposed to be baby-sitting him, but it wasn’t our fault.”
“No one told Kev he could go on the roof. Honest.”
Immediately taking charge of the situation like the veteran doc and family man he was, John held up a hand.
“I’ll locate Sam. You see to Kevin,” John told Luke. “You four,” John regarded his nephews sternly, “calm down, and don’t go anywhere until I get back to you. Kate, maybe you’d like to stay out here with the boys?”
“Sure thing.” Kate smiled.
Luke couldn’t help but note Kate looked a lot more comfortable and enthusiastic about her professional duties than she had about her pending nuptials.
“C’mon boys.” Kate herded them off to the waiting room sofas while Luke headed inside the examining room.
Meg was bending over Kevin, talking quietly, as she gently tended to lacerations on his face and arms. Although his face was streaked with tears, Kevin McCabe was no longer crying. Impressed by the tenderness Meg showed their young patient, Luke strode forward. “Hi, Kevin, I’m Dr. Luke. I heard you took a tumble this morning.”
Kevin said nothing.
Noting the boy seemed alert and that his pupils were equal and responsive, Luke tried again to engage him in conversation. “Must have been something pretty important to get up on the roof. How’d you get up there, anyway?” Luke continued, noting Kevin’s pulse and blood pressure were okay.
His face registering no emotion, Kevin turned his glance away. Luke looked at Meg. “Has he been talking since he arrived?”
“Not a word, but apparently that’s not unusual.” Meg’s voice was calm but her expression radiated concern. “His brothers said he hasn’t talked much since his mother, Ellie, died, six months ago.”
Luke continued his examination. To his relief he found no evidence of any neurological, internal or permanent injuries. “Okay, Kevin,” Luke smiled down at him, “you just take it easy. We’re going to get you fixed right up.” To Meg he said, “I want to get his right wrist X-rayed. I think it’s just a sprain but let’s be sure. We’re going to need some stitches here on his forehead. And he’s got some pretty nasty abrasions on his arms and legs. Let’s get some antibiotic ointment on them.”
Meg nodded. She was already preparing the suture tray. “No problem. Stitches first?”
Luke put the immobilizer back around Kevin’s wrist. “Yes.”
Meg smiled down at Kevin, squeezed his uninjured left hand. “You just hold on to me. This will all be over before you know it.”
With Luke and Meg both working to put their young patient at ease, Kevin weathered the procedures well.
Luke left Kevin with Meg and was looking at the X rays of Kevin’s wrist when Sam McCabe finally arrived. The successful Texas businessman bore a striking physical resemblance to the rest of the McCabe men. But Luke thought he looked awfully young—he guessed mid-thirties—to be widowed and