then I’m sure Rick saw the handprint Howard, Sr., left on my face, and he went after him. Jerked him out from behind the steering wheel. That’s when...” She couldn’t say the words. She squeezed her eyes shut and wiped her palm down her wet face. Tara’s hand rubbed back and forth across her back.
The Warrens were silent for a moment, and then Nolan let out a long breath. “Rick knows better than that. He’s a trained marine, for God’s sake! He should’ve assessed the situation better. In a combat situation, you don’t walk blindly up to a vehicle—”
“Rick’s reckless. He’s been reckless ever since...” Luke hesitated. “Ever since Afghanistan.” His jaw muscle twitched.
“Just say it. Ever since he lost Dunk.” Babbs’s voice was low, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “He’s always on a mission, driven by the guilt. He suffers so—” Her voice broke on a sob. She shook her head and waved the rest of the thought away with the back of her hand.
“He has nightmares every night.” Summer’s eyes went wide when she heard her own voice. Did I really say that aloud? Now his family knows I’ve slept with him. Often.
Nolan’s face showed no change. He appeared deep in thought, and Summer wasn’t even sure he’d heard her. But Babbs’s eyes softened.
Luke’s mouth rose slightly at one corner, and he nodded. “I’ve been with him when he’s had one. Not a pretty sight.”
“Damn PTSD.” Nolan huffed farther back in his chair.
“Post-traumatic stress disorder,” Luke explained, and Summer noticed he was speaking to Tara.
Nolan punched the air with his finger. “There’s therapy available that can cure things like this. I talked to him about it a couple of weeks ago.”
“EMDR.” Luke’s eyes were still on Tara. “Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. There’s a therapist here in Paducah who specializes in it.”
“I’ve never heard of that,” Tara said. “Would you write it down?” She leaned her head softly against Summer’s and whispered, “You might want to consider it, too, after what you’ve been through.”
Summer shrugged. Dunk died in spite of Rick, not because of him. No therapy in the world would take away her responsibility for what happened tonight.
“Well, this whole Dunk thing has gone on too damn long. We’ve all lost friends in combat, but life goes on.” Nolan’s rigid tone raked down Summer’s spine. “He’s getting therapy this time. I won’t take no for an answer.”
I’ll bet you never take no for an answer. Suddenly Rick’s stubborn streak made much more sense.
Babbs laid her hand on her husband’s arm. “Now’s not the time to talk about that. Our son’s fighting for his life in there.” Her eyes fixed on the ceiling above her. “First, he’s got to make it through the night.”
The words squeezed the air out of Summer’s lungs. “Amen,” she whispered.
The walls of the room started closing in around her. She would suffocate if she stayed here another minute. Drawing a long breath, she pushed out of her chair to a standing position. “If y’all will excuse me, I’ve got to get some air, and then I’m going to the chapel for a while.”
Tara stood up with her, and then Luke. “I could use a bit of fresh air myself,” he said.
Tara pointed to the fairy costume. “I’m going to beg, borrow or steal a clean pair of scrubs for you to wear until someone can get to your house.”
Summer followed them out, wondering if her heart would ever again beat a regular rhythm.
* * *
“I’M OKAY, DAD. HONEST.” Summer walked with him out of the waiting room into the hallway. “Kate’s waiting downstairs. Go on home.”
Her parents had been here all night and the better part of the day. Her dad looked exhausted, and to be honest, she didn’t need to have to worry about him. She had enough to worry about with Rick. Kate had agreed to take them home so Summer didn’t have to be concerned about them driving in their sleepy state.
“You’ve been so strong through all of this.” Her dad’s heavy arms gathered her to him, and she relaxed her head against his chest.
Swish...swish. What a glorious sound, the blood pumping through his heart. He’d been at death’s door, too, yet here he was, strong and warm and alive. It gave her hope for Rick...but hope couldn’t trump the guilt that lay like a lead weight in her stomach.
“I’m proud of you, Summer.”
It sounded odd, her name coming from his lips instead of Nubbin. “Thanks, Dad.”