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a cart and wheeled it around, choosing the things Sierra and Liam would need if this hitch in Flag staff turned out to be longer than expected. He’d spent the night at his own place, a few miles from the hospital, showered and changed there.

      When he got back from his expedition—a January Santa Claus burdened down with bulging blue plastic bags—he made his way to Liam’s room.

      Sierra was awake, blinking and be fuddled, and so was Liam. A huge teddy bear, holding a helium balloon in one paw, sat on the bedside table. The writing on the balloon said Get Well Soon in big red letters.

      “Eve?” Travis asked, indicating the bear with a nod of his head.

      Sierra took in the bags he was carrying. “Eve,” she confirmed. “What have you got there?”

      Travis grinned, though he felt tired all of a sudden, as though ten cups of coffee wouldn’t keep him awake. Maybe it was the warmth of the hospital, after being out in the cold.

      “A little something for every body,” he said.

      Liam was sitting up, and the breathing tube had been removed. His words came out as a sore-throated croak, but he smiled just the same, and Travis felt a pinch deep inside. The kid was so small and so brave. “Even me?”

      “Especially you,” Travis said. He handed the boy one of the bags, watched as he pulled out a portable DVD player, still in its box, and the episodes of Nova he’d picked up to go with it.

      “Wow,” Liam said, his voice so raw that it made Travis’s throat ache in sympathy. “I’ve always wanted one of these.”

      Sierra looked worried. “It’s way too expensive,” she said. “We can’t accept it.”

      Liam hugged the box close against his little chest, obstinately possessive. Everything about him said, I’m not giving this up.

      Travis ignored Sierra’s statement and tossed her another of the bags, this one fat and light. “Take a shower,” he told her. “You look like somebody who just went through a harrowing medical emergency.”

      She opened her mouth, closed it again. Peeked inside the bag. He’d bought her a sweat suit, guessing at the sizes, along with tooth paste, a brush, soap and a comb.

      She swallowed visibly. “Thanks.”

      He nodded.

      While Sierra was in Liam’s bathroom, showering, Travis helped the boy get the DVD player out of the box, plugged in and running.

      “Mom might not let me keep it,” Liam said sadly.

      “I’m betting she will,” Travis assured him.

      Liam was en grossed in an episode about killer bees when Sierra came out of the bathroom, looking scrubbed and cautiously hopeful in her dark-blue sweats. Her hair was still wet from washing, and the comb had left distinct ridges, which Travis found peculiarly poignant.

      Complex emotions fell into line after that one, striking him with the impact of a runaway boxcar, but he didn’t dare explore any of them right away. He’d need to be alone to do that, in his truck or with a horse. For now, he was too close to Sierra to think straight.

      She glanced at Liam, softened noticeably as she saw how much he was enjoying Travis’s gift. His small hands clasped the machine on either side, as though he feared someone would wrench it away.

      Some thing similar to Travis’s thoughts must have gone through her mind, because he saw a change in her face. It was a sort of resignation, and it made him want to take her in his arms—though he wasn’t about to do that.

      “I could use something to eat,” he said.

      “Me, too,” Sierra admitted. She tapped Liam on the shoulder, and he barely looked away from the screen, where bees were swarming. Music from the speakers portended certain disaster. “You’ll be all right here alone for a while, if Travis and I go down to the cafeteria?”

      The boy nodded distractedly, refocused his eyes on the bees.

      Sierra smiled with a tiny, forlorn twitch of her lips.

      They were well away from Liam’s room, and waiting for an elevator, when she finally spoke.

      “I’m grateful for what you did for Liam and me,” she said, “but you shouldn’t have given him something that cost so much.”

      “I won’t miss the money, Sierra,” Travis responded. “He’s been through a lot, and he needed something else to think about be sides breathing tubes, medical tests and shots.”

      She gave a brief, almost clipped nod.

      That McKettrick pride, Travis thought. It was something to behold.

      The elevator came, and the doors opened with a cheerful chiming sound. They stepped inside, and Travis pushed the but ton for the lower level. Hospital cafeterias always seemed to be in the bowels of the building, like the morgues.

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