Sharon Sala - Don't Cry for Me

“Thanks.”

“Yeah…but what’s the deal with the bear?” Ryal asked.

“Killed a hiker and tore another one up pretty bad. We’re thinking it’s either sick or wounded, and it’s still out there. Even though the attack happened on the far side of the mountain up on Greenlee Pass, I would nix any personal hunting trips until further notice, okay?”

“Definitely, and I’ll spread the word in the family.”

“Thanks. Kiss Sarah for me and tell Beth I said hi. See you soon,” Quinn said, and disconnected.

After that he began gathering his hunting gear. By the time he reached the ranger station and checked in, he learned that the trackers and their bloodhounds were already on the mountain.

The backcountry of Daniel Boone National Forest was huge, and there were places he had yet to see. Given that they’d had a pretty dry winter, he needed to check out the amount of deadfall on the mountain, which could impact firefighting should a blaze break out. Deadfall was also a place where a sick bear might shelter. After picking up a handheld radio and a map of the area, he headed out in one of the forest service trucks.

The day passed without incident, as did the following day. The bear was still in the wind but had not been seen again. They’d passed the message on to all the people living in the area and hoped they could find the bear before it killed again.

For Quinn, it was all he could do to focus on work. It was going to be weird having someone else in the cabin, and he had no idea how messed up Conrad was. The possibility existed that he was making trouble for himself, but he couldn’t turn his back on the situation, either. He slept fitfully, knowing that tomorrow his life was going to take a drastic turn.

* * *

Quinn was on his way to Ryal’s house by sunrise to trade vehicles. Upon arrival, he wasted no time transferring the pillows and blankets that he’d brought or pulling down the backseats to make the rear of the SUV into a bed.

“Need any help?” Ryal asked.

“I got it,” Quinn said, and folded a quilt until it fit the space, then threw in the pillows and a blanket. “That should work.”

“You said you had a list?” Ryal asked.

Quinn took a paper and a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket. “I think this should cover it, but if it’s more, we’ll settle up when I get back.”

“Was Conrad hurt bad?” Ryal asked.

Quinn stopped.

Ryal didn’t know what was going on, but all expression had just disappeared from his brother’s face.

“I don’t know, but it won’t matter.”

Ryal sighed. “I didn’t mean it like—”

“Let it go, brother. It’s just me being me,” Quinn said softly. “I’d better hit the road.”

“Yeah. So…drive safe and we’ll see you soon.”

“You, too, and thanks for helping me out,” Quinn said.

As Ryal watched Quinn driving away, he had a sense that Conrad, whoever he was, was going to make a positive difference in his brother’s life.

* * *

As Quinn drove in one direction toward Fort Campbell, Ryal, Beth and the baby went the other way into Mount Sterling to fill Quinn’s list. Once they finished, they headed back to Rebel Ridge and took everything up to the cabin.

Beth washed and dried new sheets while Sarah played on a blanket nearby. Ryal pulled out the sofa that made into a bed and pushed some furniture around to accommodate it. As soon as the linens were ready, Beth made up the bed, adding an extra quilt at the foot in case of cool nights, then went to tell Ryal she had finished. She found him standing on the back deck with Sarah in his arms, looking out across the meadow.

“Hey, I’m ready if you two are,” Beth said, and kissed her baby girl, who was almost asleep.

Ryal slipped an arm around his wife, holding her a little longer and tighter than usual.

She sensed something was bothering him.

“Honey, what’s up?”

He shifted Sarah to a more secure spot on his shoulder, then looked back across the meadow. “I was remembering what happened here and how close I came to losing you.”

Beth leaned against his shoulder, the one without the baby. “It’s you we nearly lost, and all because you threw yourself over me when the house blew up.”

He shuddered. “If you had died, living without you wouldn’t have been possible.”

Beth cupped the side of his cheek. “But I didn’t. All that’s in the past, and look at what a beautiful place Quinn has made here.”

“Yeah, it suits him.”

“Because of the solitude?” she asked.

He nodded. “And the memories. This was Granddaddy Foster’s old homestead, remember? We loved coming here as kids. I think this is a good place for him to heal.”

Beth frowned. “Do you think he will? Heal, I mean.”

He shrugged. “He’s already healing, but who knows to what extent? War changes people. He’ll never be the same.”

“But he’ll be the best Quinn that this Quinn can be.”

Ryal smiled. “That’s for sure. He’ll never settle for less.”

Two

It had taken just under four hours for Quinn to reach Fort Campbell. Since it was the same hospital where he’d been sent after he was wounded and where he’d mustered out, he knew the base setup. He drove straight to the visitors’ center at Gate 4 to get a pass. Although he hadn’t been here in over three years, he had the weird feeling he’d never left.

The feeling persisted as he drove through the base, and the closer he got to Blanchfield Hospital, the more his anxiety grew. By the time he pulled into the parking lot the skin on his body felt tight and hot. He resented the anxiety. It made him feel weak, and weak was not an option. This was about Conrad, not him.

He got out of the car, checked the bed in the back one more time, making sure nothing had shifted out of place, and then made a call to Conrad’s doctor to let him know he was there. The doctor answered on the third ring.

“Dr. Franks.”

“Hello, Dr. Franks, this is Quinn Walker. I spoke to you a couple of days ago about having one of your patients, a Corporal Conrad, released to my care?”

“Yes, yes, I remember.”

“I’m here on base and in the parking lot at Blanchfield. How do I go about getting Conrad signed out?”

“Hang on a sec, let me check,” Franks said, and put him on hold.

As Quinn was waiting, a van drove up and pulled into a handicap parking space across from where he was standing. A woman got out, then circled the van and opened the side door. He glanced up just as a platform slid out, lowering a man in his wheelchair. Quinn’s gut knotted, and then he looked away, feeling guilty for being thankful that wasn’t him.

When Franks came back on the line, Quinn’s focus shifted.

“Mr. Walker, are you still there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I remember you telling me you’d been a patient here before. Do you remember where Physical Therapy is located?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Conrad is there now. I’ll meet me you in PT in about fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll be there.”

Quinn dropped his phone in his pocket and headed into the hospital. Now that he was here, he was anxious to find out what he’d let himself in for.

He headed for the bank of elevators, refusing to make eye contact with the people in the lobby. When he got on the elevator, he quickly turned his back on the other occupants and stared at the door, waiting for it to open. It was as if the past three years had never happened and he was still on crutches, with healing burns and scars that screamed Look at me! He was startled not only by the anxiety that he felt but also the insecurity. This hospital was not a good place to be.

When he entered the physical therapy area, he was even more hesitant, eyeing the patients in various stages of rehabilitation. As he began scanning the room, looking for Conrad, he heard someone cursing.