These Ties That Bind

“Did you really hate me so much?”

“I’ve never hated you, Rem. Never. But I don’t trust you to do what’s right for my son.”

Without waiting for a response, she strode away and Rem was left reeling. So, should he go ahead and tell the boy anyway, against Sara’s wishes? Somehow, that didn’t feel right.

He would tell his ma, though, when the time was right.

He returned to Ma’s room to say goodbye.

Last week, on the day of her latest stroke, it had occurred to him that she was his only family.

Other than Finn.

He’d always thought her hale and healthy, but she’d shrunk, was small now, and he was in danger of losing her. Now he had this impulse, an inkling that had started after he became a full-time veterinarian, but urgent now that Ma was so bad, to start a family. He already had started one, though, and wanted to claim his son and get to know him.

He’d screwed up in not acknowledging him from the beginning. He was through screwing up. He was setting everything in his life right.

Sara had done a great job of raising Finn alone, so Rem would respect her wishes. For now.

“Ma, I’m going to see how that young girl is doing and then finish setting the house to rights for your homecoming tomorrow.”

She tried that smile again, but must have known how bad it looked because she stopped. Ma, you’re breaking my heart.

He squeezed her good hand. “I love you.”

She nodded.

Rem rushed out because of the headache throbbing behind his sinuses. Maybe he was getting a cold. Or maybe it was just that he’d been up too late last night turning the dining room into a bedroom for Ma’s return, including moving in the new bed he’d had delivered.

On the first floor, he found Randy in the emergency ward. “How are the girl and her mother?”

“Lucky, from what I hear.” He punched Rem on the shoulder. “Heard you’re the man of the hour for pulling her out of the wreckage.”

Rem shrugged. “You would have done the same thing. Seriously, how are they?”

“You called it right. Mother’s got a concussion, fractured ribs and a broken arm. Daughter’s got burns to her scalp, hands and arms.”

“Can I see them?” Rem needed reassurance that the two were alive and well. When the kid had been trapped…

Quit. Don’t think about it.

Randy directed him to Intensive Care. “They’re pretty doped up, but you can look in on them.”

Rem stepped into the room. Nurses worked around the young girl’s bed quietly, lending the room a hushed, expectant silence.

Her face looked peaceful in her drugged sleep, with the white bandages swathing her head.

His gaze drifted to the other bed, where her mother lay awake and watching him, her gaze only slightly unfocused by pain meds.

“Hi,” he said with a wave of two fingers.

“Hi,” she said. “Are you the one who saved my daughter?”

“Yeah.” He squirmed beneath her admiring gaze. Lady, I’m not a hero.

He approached her bed. Under the bruises on one side of her face, he could tell she was a whole lot younger than he’d originally thought, probably younger than his own thirty-two years.

“What’s your daughter’s name?” he asked.

“Melody.”

He had a snap memory of this woman screaming that as Rem dove into the burning vehicle. “I’m Remington Caldwell. People call me Rem.”

She smiled, then grimaced as if her face hurt.

“I’m Elizabeth Chase. Liz,” she said. “Did that happen at the crash?” She pointed to his wrapped hands. He nodded.

“I’m sorry.” She had a pretty voice, feminine and sweet.

“You’re not from around here. Are you here to visit family?”

She shook her head and shadows clouded her eyes along with a dose of fear. Something wasn’t right, but the woman wasn’t saying more. Fair enough. She had a right to her privacy.

When he asked no further questions, she stared at him some more as though he were her hero, and he had to leave the room before he disappointed her by blurting out how wrong she was.

REM TURNED THE JEEP INTO his driveway and stared at his big old oak and the fields on either side of the entrance to his ranch.

Fire had scorched the fields, now sodden under the weight of the water the fire crews had poured on them.

The acrid scent of charred earth drifted through the open window.

The fire trucks must have reached his ranch shortly after he passed through Ordinary on his way to the hospital.

After last summer’s drought, the town had installed solar-powered pumps in Still Creek where it ran along the highway.

Thankfully, access to water for the fire pumps wasn’t an issue.

The results could have been so much worse. Those golden fields could have burned right up to the house and taken it down, too.

He had lost grain, though, and would have to replace it.

He climbed out and pressed his hand against the scar on the tree where the car had hit. Fire had blackened this entire side of the trunk. Still fresh, the odor of burning wood had replaced that of singed flesh.

His bandage came away sooty and black.

Above his head, bare limbs formed a stark spider’s web against the blue sky.

Lucky he hadn’t lost the whole tree. The other half remained green. Thank God. He loved his land. Rem had an affinity with nature and this hurt. It really sucked.