Chapter 1 #3
Not a bullet in a desert somewhere overseas, but some dumbass who’d packed his parachute wrong, and then crashed into her mid-air during a routine jump doing an activity that Lilah had once told me she loved, even as it made me sick to contemplate.
When news had reached us, Mort, Sara, and I immediately converged on the hospital despite the travel time, all of us taking turns staying with her, because we didn’t want to leave her alone despite the staff’s insistence that they’d call us.
But I, especially, knew I couldn’t let her awaken without at least one safe face there to greet her.
Confusion filled her eyes as I repeatedly punched the nurse call button while yelling for someone. I was in my first year of my residency and never in my wildest dreams thought I’d almost lose my sister in a stupid fucking accident.
I stepped to the side, doing my best not to get in the way despite knowing what the hell was going on. I also texted Mort and Sara, who were staying at a residence for patients’ families in a building across the street.
Lilah was still intubated but, from the way she responded to the doctors’ questions, it appeared she hadn’t sustained any lasting brain damage, although her military career was officially over.
Six hours later, they’d extubated her. Mort and Sara returned to their room while I sat next to her and held her hand. “You weren’t supposed to scare the crap out of me,” I scolded.
The meds still had her understandably loopy. She’d already undergone three operations to stabilize her injuries and likely would need two or three more over the next few weeks.
“What… happened?”
“You were damned lucky, that’s what happened. No more GI Jane for you, kiddo. Soon as we get you out of here, you’re moving to Bozeman with me.”
Her gaze narrowed in confusion. “What?”
I held up two fingers. “My apartment’s a ground-floor unit, and I’ve got two bedrooms. It’s your home now.
Not to mention I’m five minutes from the hospital and we’ve got a great physical therapy department.
Don’t fight me on this, either. Remember, I’m listed as your next of kin and you filled out that medical power of attorney for me.
I’ll get you moved to a rehab facility there if you can’t be discharged straight home, but once you’re out of there, you’re living with me. ”
She closed her eyes. “Okay,” she whispered.
I leaned in and kissed her forehead. It scared me she wasn’t even trying to argue with me, but maybe once she got her wits about her and they cut back on her medication she’d be thinking clearly and back to her normally feisty self.
I hoped.
Three weeks later, I pushed her wheelchair through my front door. She still needed another operation on her leg, which had been severely fractured in several places, but fortunately was able to be saved. They could do further operations here in Bozeman, at my hospital.
Mort and Sara helped carry her things in.
Last week I flew out, rented a truck, and emptied her storage unit, driving everything back and putting what wouldn’t fit in my apartment into storage here.
Some of my coworkers swapped shifts with me so I could make sure I was home with her for the next several days until she got her bearings and decompressed.
Later that evening, after Mort and Sara returned to their hotel, I carefully curled up with Lilah in her bed and held her as she cried. Finally, once she settled, she shnurffled and laughed.
“Bozeman, Montana? What the actual fuck, Em?”
“Well, they had an opening in their pediatric neurology department and offered a great sign-on bonus and perks, like housing assistance. It’s also relatively cheap to live here compared to the other places where there were pediatric neurology residencies. I think you’ll like it here.”
She patted my arm. “Thanks, sis,” she whispered. “Thanks for taking care of me. I promise I’ll help out once I can do shit again.”
I kissed the top of her head. “Well, your pension will kick in soon, and there’s a VA clinic here, too. All I want you to do is focus on healing and we can figure out the rest later, okay? Time for me to take care of you for a change.”
“Okay.”
“And no more doing stupid shit, like jumping out of perfectly good airplanes.”
She laughed. “Deal.”
One Year Later
“What in the fucking hell, Lilah?”
She smiled. “What?”
“What happened to not doing stupid shit?”
She motioned for me to stop yelling. “It’s not a dangerous job. Not usually.”
I blinked, shocked, staring at her.
She pushed onward. “Look, it’s a damned good salary compared to a lot of jobs around here, not to mention the pension and benefits. And it’s kinda like what I did when I was an MP, only with fish and deer and shit.”
“Uh and poachers, and stupid drunks with hunting rifles, and dangerous conditions. And how are you supposed to do that?”
“I already passed the fitness test.”
I sat back, even more shocked than just seconds ago, which I didn’t think was possible. “You’ve already signed on, haven’t you?”
She glanced down at her coffee mug. She dumped this news on me twenty minutes before I was due to leave for my shift.
Three months earlier, we’d upgraded to a small house not far from town, just enough on the outskirts to be considered rural.
We both loved it here, and now we had two horses, which we purchased the week before we closed on the house.
“Em, I’m going stir-crazy. I still have to go through training.
After that, I’ll probably spend the majority of my time measuring fish and checking game tags and licenses and that kind of stuff.
Helping rescue the occasional lost hiker.
Hell, from what it sounds like, technically most of my time will be spent driving around this godforsaken state, interrupted by occasionally working. ”
“What about going back to school?”
“To do what? This is a job with job security and they promised me I won’t have to jump out of any goddamned planes.” She smiled but was deliberately downplaying the dangers and we both knew it.
But I also knew that over the months since her final operation she’d worked hard to rebuild her body and…
Yes. She was going stir-crazy.
I slumped in my chair. “You almost died on me once, sis. What am I supposed to do if your ‘safe job’ kills you?”
She reached across the table and took my hands, squeezing them.
“You can’t promise me you won’t get into an accident driving to or from work.
You can’t promise me some drunk parent won’t come shoot up the ER while you’re doing an intake eval.
You can’t promise me you won’t have an aneurysm and not wake up, just like I can’t promise you anything.
But I have to make a change and this is the first thing in a while that’s really spoken to me. I feel this is what I need to do.”
I stood up fully intending to flounce out of there but she intercepted me and hugged me and, the next thing I knew, I was sitting on the floor, sobbing while she rocked me in her arms.
“Shh, Em. We’ve survived shit, you know.
This is Montana, not Mogadishu. And yes, I’ll be law enforcement and carry a gun.
Also, yes, there will be risks. But this is way safer than getting shipped overseas and landing in-country, you know.
I was on fucking US soil when I nearly died.
Nowhere is perfectly safe. Plus, I’ll make more than enough we can finally update our vehicles, which will make me happy that you’ll be driving something safer. ”
I sniffled. “Not allowed to die on me, sis.”
She held me tighter. “I promise I’ll do my best to hang around and not test the patience of my guardian angels. Besides, someone’s gotta stay close and scare off the dumbass men who want to glom on to you just because you’re a doctor with your own house and little debt.”
I snorted. “Yeah, well if you don’t, I promise to be totally fucking stupid and date the dumbest men possible.”
Lilah sat back. “I love you, sis,” she said. “And I promise I’ll be as safe as possible.”
“Love you too, sis.” I laid my head on her shoulder. “When are we going to find a guy for you?”
“Well, DDAF, you know that. And so far I haven’t met a guy here in Bozeman who exceeds that bar set in hell.”
Dumb dick ain’t fuckable.
I don’t remember when we came up with that acronym but it quickly stuck and yeah, it was a bar set in hell that a surprising number of men weren’t able to hurdle.
“Maybe you’ll meet another officer to fall in love with.”
“Ha!” She grinned. “Hey, I’m a masochist but I’m not that kind of masochist.”