with another option for her. Or for him.
He took several swigs of water, then unzipped the leather pouch. He swallowed three ibuprofens, unbuttoned his pants and slipped them off over his muddy shoes. The movement pulled at his wounds. His body felt disconnected from his head. He guzzled down another drink, then turned his back toward the cheap mirror hanging over the sink.
A small whistle escaped as he surveyed the damage. Erin had done a good job with the dressings, but his back was a mess. He shifted his shoulder, testing it. Sharp pain radiated out. His head spun.
He grabbed hold of the sink to steady himself. That bullet needed to come out. Soon. He looked longingly at the showerhead. What he wouldn’t give to have the water beating down on his back, easing away the tension, not of the pain, but of facing Erin’s palpable disappointment.
Without a choice, he stepped into the tub and cleaned himself the best he could. The bandages didn’t need to get wet.
By the time he had dressed, his head had begun pounding again. He stepped into the main room of the darkened shack. Erin stood at the stove, stirring a pot, a now-clean Brandon at her feet. The fragrance of chicken soup wafted through the room, and Hunter’s mouth watered.
She glanced over her shoulder. “You don’t look so good.”
He ran his fingers through his dark, wet hair. “I’m clean.”
“How bad is it?” she asked. “Really.”
“I’ll survive until Doc gets here.”
She set a bowl of steaming chicken and noodles in front of him, then took out a box of crackers. “Maybe this will help,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze.
Hunter sat down. With each spoonful, he studied her stiff back. She set a jar of baby food in a pan of simmering water for several minutes but didn’t turn around. She tested the baby food, then let it heat some more.
He couldn’t take the silence. “What are you thinking?”
She didn’t budge. “That I want to wake up in the morning and have this day to never have happened.”
Brandon crawled over to him and placed his small hands on Hunter’s knee. He touched the baby’s hand. Hunter could understand Erin’s feelings, but he couldn’t agree. While every moment he spent with them made him want more, how could he regret any time spent with his son?
Hunter ruffled the boy’s head. “How you doin’, sport?”
With a grip Hunter could barely fathom, Brandon pressed himself to his feet, arms solid but legs unsteady.
“Brandon stood up. By himself.” An inordinate pride rushed through Hunter. “Isn’t he young for that?”
At his words, Erin turned, her eyes shining with love when she watched their son. She grinned for the first time since Hunter had walked through the front door of her house. “He’s right on track,” Erin said. “According to research, he’ll start walking between eleven and fourteen months.”
“Hear that, sport? You’re doing great.” Hunter took a cracker and downed it.
At the move, Brandon’s eyes widened and he reached his hands up. “Yum. Yum...yum...yum.”
A strange dread clamped around Hunter at his son’s eager expression. “What does he want?”
“Don’t panic. He’s just hungry.” Erin emptied the baby food into a bowl. “Come on, cutie. Ready to eat?”
At his mother’s questions, Brandon tried to whirl around. He almost made it. He wobbled, then sat down. Hard. Hunter bit back a curse and leaned over. “Brandon! Are you okay?”
The boy’s face screwed up, and Hunter’s heart raced. Was his son going to cry? The boy didn’t get the chance. Erin scooped him up and kissed his belly. “Oopsie-daisy. Did you fall down?”
The almost-cry turned into giggles. With an efficient move, she sat down and plopped Brandon in her lap. “Let’s get you a full tummy and put you to bed.”
His meal forgotten, Hunter couldn’t take his eyes off the image of Erin and their son. Her tenderness, her care, the utter devotion on her face tugged at something deep within him he could barely define. He wanted to hold his son; he wanted to take care of them both. He wanted a life. With Erin.
The reality of their situation hurt Hunter’s heart. Maybe Erin had been right in her wish. Would it have been better to never have experienced today?
Brandon spit out some of the horrid-looking puce food. She laughed and wiped his face, then met Hunter’s gaze over Brandon’s head. Her expression softened a bit. “Do you want to feed him?”
Being in the thick of a firefight hadn’t made his heart race as fast