A Texas Ranger's Family

by Mae Nunn

  A door creaked and more footsteps thumped against the floor.

  “Hello, Ms. Gray.” Another voice joined the room. “I am Dr. Agawa.”

  Fabric rustled on the bed as shoes and chairs bumped about. Erin assumed a path was being cleared for his approach.

  “I see your Texas visitors are here again today. You are fortunate to have such loyal friends.”

  “How are you, sir?” Daniel’s greeting was personable, followed by the sound of palms slapping together as the men shook hands.

  “I am good, Daniel. Excited to see our patient alert, as I’m sure you and Dana are, as well.”

  The words were like poking a fresh bruise. Strangers had been attending to her most personal needs. Not only had they invaded her privacy, they seemed to have bonded right under her itchy nose. For the first time she felt kinship with the images in her portfolio of suffering individuals helpless to change their circumstances.

  “My ophthalmic team has been treating the thermal burn to your corneas. You are healing very well, indeed. Time for a look,” Dr. Agawa announced.

  “You’re going to remove the bandages?” Erin was hopeful and horrified in the same breath. She’d be brought out of this darkness before an audience.

  “Yes, and if all is what I expect, we won’t reapply them,” the doctor reassured her.

  An electric motor hummed as the head of the bed began a steady incline. The shifting of her spine and the repositioning of her weight was painfully pleasant. A loud groan accompanied her long sigh.

  The movement stopped. “I’m sorry to hurt you,” a woman spoke from the foot of the bed. “This is the first time we’ve raised your head since we brought you out of the coma.”

  “Actually, it’s lovely to change positions. Please continue,” Erin encouraged the attendant.

  “That is very good to hear, Ms. Gray.” The doctor seemed pleased. “Having you upright will make it easier to remove the compresses. I believe you will see fairly well. But if your vision is blurred for a time, do not be overly concerned.”

  Her heart’s naturally slow rhythm shifted like a souped-up Humvee. Her cardiac monitor beeped into high gear. Someone leaned past the bed and turned down the volume.

  “There is nothing to fear,” the kindly doctor promised.

  Fear? There was no way this pounding of her heart was a sign of fear. She’d been calm when she’d photographed the execution of Saddam Hussein. She’d never broken a sweat when her World View crew had come under guerrilla fire in Somalia, and not even a close encounter with Brad and Angelina in a Parisian restaurant had made Erin’s pulse quicken.

  No, she’d survived the worst fear had to offer at nine years old, when her drunken father had beat her mother to death. Since then there hadn’t been a threat Erin couldn’t look in the eye while she kept a steady hand on the shutter release.

  “May I have a sip of water?”

  “I’ll do it,” Daniel’s daughter insisted, shuffling closer to the bed, rattling more ice into the cup and angling a straw into Erin’s mouth.

  The liquid was a cool blessing. She curved her lips in a smile of gratitude.

  “What was the last thing you recall seeing before your convoy was ambushed?” Dr. Agawa made conversation as he helped to gently raise her head away from the mattress.

  “Actually, not much. We were in the middle of an Iraqi sandstorm. Our battalion had pulled to the side of the road outside of Kirkuk to wait for it to pass. The center of those storms is as black as any darkness you’ve ever encountered. So, we never saw it coming.”

  Scissors snipped through thick tape and confident hands unwound the long strips that secured soft pads to her eyelids. As she waited for the pressure of the bandages to abate, a warm hand covered her fingers that had gone cold and trembling with anticipation.

  Would her eyesight be the price she paid for the talent that had earned her a Pulitzer prize? Had her bizarre drive to validate her life’s purpose by capturing a miracle on film come to a fruitless end?

  “Ms. Gray, please be patient and keep your eyes shut for a moment longer.”

  The compresses fell away revealing a sense of light just beyond her closed lids. Then darkness covered her face as the florescent fixtures were extinguished.

  “Open your eyes and look toward the ceiling, please,” he instructed.

  Fluttering her eyelids was wonderful, like a good stretch after a long flight. But as a bright penlight was shone into first one eye and then the other, it was impossible to make out anything. The doctor agreeably mumbled to himself in Japanese before instructing the nurse to turn on the overhead lights one at a time. With the first flash, Erin squinted to adjust to the brightness, then looked in the direction of the person holding her hand.

  The tall gentleman beside her was even more handsome than the skinny boy she remembered so well. The heart monitor began to beep loudly again. Daniel reminded her of a grinning but blurry George Strait. Quite something.

  The second switch was snapped on and more light filled the room. Erin’s eyes cut left and right to find the fuzzy faces of the doctor and nurse who still supported her shoulders. When the final bank of bulbs glowed overhead, she turned her attention to the foot of the bed and focused hard on the girl dressed all in black, glints of silver dangling from her ears. Dana hugged herself with crossed arms that did nothing to disguise a body well-developed at a young age. As Erin found clear spots in her vision, she looked for signs of Daniel’s tanned good looks in his daughter. Instead she noted fair skin, a high forehead, a pointed chin and what looked like spikes of purple sprouting from her head.

  As Erin’s squint locked on a dark gaze, her breathing stopped and her stomach quaked low in her abdomen. She knew those eyes. Up close there would be flecks of gold.

  Erin was a little girl again, hiding with her sleeping baby brother in a dark pantry that smelled of rotting onions. Her mother’s screams had mercifully ended hours before but Erin had remained paralyzed, didn’t dare to make their presence known. Not even to the people who had finally come to help, the adults who were calling her name.

  Suddenly the door swung open and amber eyes with glints of gold glared down from her big sister’s face. Her look was as accusing as her words.

  “I knew you’d be in your hiding place, you little coward! You didn’t do anything to help Mama. Daddy finally killed her!”

  Erin blinked, expecting her eyes and imagination were deceiving her addled brain. But the proof stood a few feet away and bore no resemblance to Daniel. From what Erin could make out, hair color was the only physical trait she’d passed on to her daughter. The rest of the girl was the mirror image of Erin’s older sister.

  Alison.

  “How soon can I get out of here?” Erin asked J.D. the moment Daniel and Dana left the room to give her some privacy with her boss.

  Her Pillsbury Doughboy of a bureau chief was all smiles to see her sitting upright, her eyes unfettered by the bandages. But she was far from enjoying the blurry images around her. The very thought of being so needy and at the mercy of others, even in a hospital, made her insides shiver. Living with troops in Iraq was a whole lot easier than letting someone else call the shots or take control of her life.

  “Take it easy, Wonder Woman. You’re still looking at another week here, then once they’re satisfied with your vitals and blood work, they’ll release you to a rehab facility.”

  Rehab facility. The term conjured up dingy images of an institution filled with those who needed caregivers.

  “Not if I can help it,” she murmured.

  “There’s always the option of going to Texas with Daniel and Dana. They’re sincere about this, you know. It’s all that girl has talked about for days.”

  Erin closed her eyes against the thought, reflecting instead on all the injuries she had to overcome.

  “Let me make sure I got it all straight.” She began to recite her list of traumas. “My right arm was half blown off but thankfully reattached and though
I’m going to survive my fingers may not. My pelvis is bruised, but not broken so that’s reason to be thankful. My corneas are healing but who knows whether or not I’ll be able to focus a camera lens again. The concussion from the IED generally produces long-term memory issues so I’m lucky I know my own name.” She paused to consider her circumstances, grateful to be alive but beginning to feel the anger of having lost control of her destiny.

  “Oh, and the only viable option to my apartment is a nursing home.”

  “It’s called a rehab facility,” J.D. countered.

  “That’s code for smelly, depressing nursing home and we both know it.” Though it was shameful it felt amazingly good to gripe a little now that her voice was back.

  “Erin, your frustration is understandable. Anyone in your condition would need to vent.” He squeezed her hand again. J.D. oozed calm and patience, traits he’d never displayed in the ten years she’d covered assignments for World View. His kindness didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, it made the few hair follicles that weren’t taped to her skin prickle with worry.

  “Sooooo,” she dragged out the syllable. “Am I out of a job?” It might not be the question most people in her situation would ask, but work was her life. It was her world.

  “Would you please stop imagining the worst?” J.D. sighed loud enough for Erin to hear. The bedside manner he’d worn for her sake was wearing thin. “You have months of sick time and excellent medical insurance. And don’t insult either of us with the insinuation that I’d let you get away from World View. You’ve shown more guts for living embedded with our troops and compassion for victims of war than the UN and the Red Cross rolled together.”

  When she didn’t respond he patted her hand, accepting her silence.

  “Kid, I’m sorry to leave already, but the nurse on the other side of the window is waving me out.” He pushed his chair away and stood. “I’ll be back tomorrow so you can make some decisions. There are nice places in Washington but I thought you might want to get back up to the city so I have a list of New York rehab hospitals to tell you about, too.”

  “Can it wait a few days?” The idea of being relegated to an institution, no matter how well the reputation, made her empty stomach churn. “I know you want to get home to Mary Ellen and the boys but I’m going to need some time to ingest all this stuff.”

  “Sure thing, no rush. And while you’re laid up, I’ve got some great reading to keep you occupied.”

  “Not again, J.D.”

  He regularly mentioned that there was a box of letters for her in the mail room but she always declined to have it forwarded. She wasn’t exactly Annie Leibovitz so what could possibly be in the postal tub besides credit card applications and Publishers Clearing House offers?

  He smacked a loud kiss on her cheek and left Erin alone with her thoughts in the quiet room.

  Even if only briefly, her situation was hopelessly out of her hands. But life had taught Erin to be a realist. Going home to her third floor walk-up was definitely not doable. She accepted the fact; her only choice was between a stinky nursing home in D.C. and a stinky nursing home in New York. Too bad a sweaty military Quonset hut wasn’t on the list. That would make it a no-brainer.

  There’s always the option of going to Texas with Daniel and Dana. She recalled J.D.’s comment.

  Is that truly an option, Lord? she whispered. After all my years of wandering the world in search of images that will honor You, have You brought me back to make things up to my child? To honor my family?

  Chapter Two

  The 767 eased to a stop at Houston’s Intercontinental Airport. Daniel slid his laptop into a worn leather case and stepped into the crowded, narrow aisle. He dipped the crown of his Ranger Stetson to avoid the low doorway of the aircraft and was immediately assaulted by a warm burst of muggy air. He merged with the mass of summer travelers, knowing his daughter’s flying experience would be a far cry from mundane.

  He’d opted to use the other half of his commercial ticket after J.D.’s assurance that Dana would be secure on the pricey chartered Maverick. Neither female had objected, worn out as they all were from debating where Erin should recuperate. She’d been adamant that she wasn’t going to a recovery hospital, and determined to pay for professional home care. It had taken her boss to dissuade Erin from such a phenomenal out-of-pocket expense when her family was so willing to help.

  Daniel had sought the Word for guidance, afraid he was a loser whichever way Erin decided. Maybe Dana’s dream of a family could be fulfilled, even if his had long ago dimmed. She was desperate for this time with a mother reluctant to go into a setting where she would constantly be put on the spot for information. They’d finally agreed between the three of them that Dana would stifle the endless stream of questions and Erin would share when she felt the time was right.

  The cards were definitely stacked in Erin’s favor but he and Dana agreed privately that a tight-lipped Erin was better than no Erin at all. And frankly, Daniel was looking forward to being the parent willing to talk while Erin accepted the blame for the gaps in Dana’s family tree.

  Leaving Walter Reed for the trip to Houston this morning had given Daniel time apart from the two women to figure out whether or not to come clean with the rest of the story. So far, no revelation had presented itself and he was okay with that. Daniel had been alone with his secret for so many years that breaking his silence would be like betraying a partner. He’d never even considered it because there would be a high price to pay with his daughter.

  And now, with Erin.

  For the past week he and Dana had trained for the care of Erin’s injuries. Anything less than around-the-clock attention for the immediate present, followed by intense physical therapy could cost the use of her right arm. It was mostly an academic effort on his part since Dana insisted on being the one to do everything for Erin in spite of their near-disastrous first encounter.

  Erin was quick to recover from her initial reaction to seeing Dana for the first time, but the damage was done.

  “She thinks I’m ugly.” Dana cried during their ride back to the hotel. He comforted his daughter by joking that they hadn’t prepared Erin for an eyebrow ring, pointy purple hair and black lipstick. That was enough to make anybody gasp. They laughed it off and let it go, but he knew Dana was hurt.

  Still, she wanted to take care of her mama and was of the unshakable opinion that she could fill the role of Erin’s caregiver just fine on her own. So, Dana wasn’t gonna like it even one little bit that Daniel had arranged for backup. He had imported the only person he could trust to run his house, help out with Erin’s needs and keep an eye on his daughter if he had an overnight investigation. But most importantly, this particular backup would prevent the neighbor’s tongues from wagging right out of their heads when his mysterious ex-wife moved in.

  His not-so-secret weapon was LaVerne Stabler, a one-woman force of nature. She was a home-cookin’ and house-cleanin’ machine. A whirlwind of efficiency that meant business and wouldn’t stand for anything even close to ungodliness. Given the choice, any cowhand or cousin on their West Texas ranch would sooner stomp on a prairie rattler than cross his mama.

  Ironically, even though he exposed his daughter to her grandma on a regular basis, Dana still hadn’t figured out what everybody else in the Stabler clan knew; life was just easier in general when LaVerne had things her way.

  Daniel slung his carry-on bag into the passenger’s seat of his oversized SUV, grateful for the diesel guzzler that would allow him to transport the medical equipment that came along with their guest. It was going be an unpredictable time, and Daniel prayed to maintain his peace when he thought about being trapped under the same roof with three women who held the power to rock his world.

  “What’s she doing here?” Dana hissed.

  Erin noted the angry slash of scarlet that blazed across Dana’s cheeks as she pointed toward the white Cadillac marred by whiskers of red grime on the fenders. Daniel pulled his
behemoth SUV into his driveway and came to a stop.

  “You invited that old busybody, didn’t you?” Dana spoke to her father through clenched teeth.

  In the backseat of the SUV, Erin flinched at the accusation. So much of the teen reminded her of Alison. Each time Dana had hovered over the gurney during the flight from Washington to Houston, Erin had battled a gut-deep urge to recoil. She’d feigned sleep most of the way to dissuade any conversation. She’s not Alison became a silent mantra whenever Erin looked into the girl’s eyes.

  Daniel released his seat belt and turned to his daughter. “I’m gonna let that slide because you’ve been through a lot in the last few weeks. And because I had a feelin’ you wouldn’t think this was a pleasant surprise. But that old busybody is my mama and if you ever talk ugly about her in my presence again, I will make you go back to your natural hair and nail color and take out all your earrings. Got that, Morticia?”

  “Yes, sir,” Dana muttered, faking repentance.

  From Erin’s position wedged among many pillows, she observed a brief father-daughter discussion on guest protocol and house rules. The teen negotiated like a United Nations delegate. It was evident she was an only child, always respected as if she were an adult. In the few minutes it took them to reach agreeable terms, the narcotics wore off and Erin’s right forearm began pulsing pain. With the bulk of the bandages removed, she had regained control of her head and left torso. But her lower back and hips were still locked down and dependent for movement, especially during the killer hours of torture, aka physical therapy.

  “Here comes the other third of your care team,” Daniel announced.

  “Serenity now,” Dana grumbled as she spotted the figure headed their way.

  A woman of indefinable years and weight lumbered toward the SUV. She had a Humpty Dumpty figure, bigger on the bottom than on the top. Her bleached updo was complemented by scarlet lipstick and a When-I-am-an-old-woman-I-shall-wear-purple caftan. On her feet were matching sparkly flip-flops.