Roz Denny Fox - The Single Dad's Guarded Heart

“Problem?” She smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. “An earthworm is probably a better communicator. What? No, not you, Pappy. It’s Marlee. Sorry I’m late phoning. Jo Beth and I are with Mick. No, I don’t know his status. Hold on a sec.” Marlee put a hand over the receiver as the nurse breezed back in.

“Mr. Maclean is still in surgery,” Tammy said. “From what I gather, it’s going well. His son is one floor above us in the B Surgery Suite waiting room.”

“Thank you so much. We’ll run up shortly to see how Josh is doing.” She returned to her call and relayed an identical message. “Are you anxious for us to get home, Pappy? Are you on your own?”

She listened intently. “Why should I phone Ranger Ames?” After an irritated toss of her head, Marlee tried to temper her sharp response. “I’m sure everyone who lives in the backcountry is a friend of the Macleans, but I can’t call them all. Okay, Pappy. Someone will notify you and the ranger as soon as any report comes out of surgery. Mr. Maclean’s son is here. Maybe he’ll call everyone after he updates his mom. Pappy, I’ve gotta go. According to Mick, I need to call Angel Fleet.”

“Don’t!” Marlee put down the phone and held up a hand as her brother opened his mouth. “I know the ranger’s your friend. But he rubbed me the wrong way, okay? If you asked him, he’d say the feeling is mutual.”

“I was just going to give you Angel Fleet’s number.”

“Oh. I thought you were going to…never mind then. What’s the number?”

He gave it. “When you reach Arlene Thomas, their night coordinator, explain that I’m laid up. Have her take Cloud Chasers off the volunteer list until further notice.”

“Uh…Mick. I’ve had a change of heart. I forgot how isolated people are up here. Leave us on the volunteer flight schedule.”

“Are you sure? Gordy’s accident is a one-time flight. Sometimes our requests are the beginning of a series of treatments or doctor visits for a patient. Angel Fleet operates differently than some mercy groups. They feel it’s difficult enough when a very ill person has to be in and out of the hospital. If the patient gains confidence in a pilot flying them back and forth, it’s one less stress.”

Marlee knew what Mick was saying. “Surely no one expects weeks, months or years of continuous service. Rose drove Cole to treatments for four years.”

“Six flights is the most I’ve made for any single patient. If care is ongoing, most people arrange to stay temporarily near the hospital.”

“Then I can do this, Mick. What we went through with Cole was different. I’ll have no close ties, no relationship with anyone who may need us.” She broke away from Mick’s unwavering gaze to check her watch. Then she stretched out a hand toward her daughter. “Jo Beth, tell Uncle Mick goodbye.”

“Bye-bye. When I call Dean, is it all right to say you’re still getting a dog?”

Mick’s hearty laughter drowned out his twin’s reprimand. “Yes,” he said. “And when you call him, make sure you tell him how Mr. Maclean does in surgery. That’ll save your mother from having to communicate with an earthworm.” Mick pushed a button and lowered his bed. At once he groaned and grabbed for his bad hip, but he recovered enough to lean up on an elbow. “You two run along. Marlee, I’ll call Angel Fleet for you tonight. I’ll tell them to be kind to you.”

She gave him a tight smile over her daughter’s head. Mick’s bringing up Wylie Ames again produced a well-formed image of his brooding, handsome face, which Marlee did her best to push out of her mind.

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