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Love Under Two Prospectors [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)

Page 3

by Cara Covington

He lifted his head and then, as if he’d been doing it all his life, released her to his brother, turning her toward Noah. He watched as Noah enfolded her in his arms and then kissed her. Brit’s tiny mew of pleasure gave him hope. He saw that she clung to Noah as possessively as she’d clung to him. Joy filled him, with not a hint of jealousy anywhere. It was a wondrous moment. It was the moment when he knew beyond a doubt that Brittany Phillips was meant to be theirs.

  “Sean.” The emotion in Noah’s single word alerted him and pulled him from his memories.

  He looked up at the approach of the female figure clad in green scrubs. The woman wore a white lab coat over her green, with her ID badge in place. He and Noah were currently the only occupants of the waiting area, so there could be no question whom she was there to see.

  “Sean and Noah Kendall?”

  Both men got to their feet. When she was close enough, she offered her hand. “I’m Dr. Rutherford. I’m the surgeon who operated on Lieutenant Phillips. She came through surgery well and is in recovery. Let’s sit down.”

  Sean had checked his watch as he’d gotten to his feet. It was just over five hours since the surgery had begun. He quashed his nerves. His feelings, right now, didn’t matter. Only Brittany mattered.

  They waited until Dr. Rutherford sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Then they sat, facing her.

  “As I said, Lieutenant Phillips came through the surgery well. When she arrived, she presented a simple fracture of her right leg and more complicated damage to her lower left leg, ankle, and foot. She also had a slight concussion from the crash, lacerations to her face and arms, but no other serious injuries.” She leaned forward, her hands together and met Sean’s gaze. “Her lower left leg was crushed. We couldn’t repair the damage. We had to amputate it, below the knee.”

  Sean kept his gaze on Dr. Rutherford as the reality—a reality he’d suspected—echoed in his mind. He acknowledged it and then set it aside. “Does Brittany know yet?”

  “Not yet. I will tell her when she awakens in recovery. Once she’s ready to be moved, we’re going to put her into ICU for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

  “When will you let us be with her?” Noah asked.

  Dr. Rutherford tilted her head to the side as she seemed to consider them. “I didn’t see so much as a flinch on either of you. This doesn’t shock you? It doesn’t put you off?”

  “She’s alive, Doctor Rutherford. That is the most important thing. She’s smart, she’s determined,” Sean sighed and shook his head. “She’s a kick-ass marine. And she’s ours.” There was no sense in pretending here. “We’re going to be with her, and be there for her, in whatever way she needs us.”

  “I see.” She looked from him to Noah then nodded. “There will be a grieving process for Lieutenant Phillips—for Brittany. One can never tell what that process will be exactly for the individual patient. In some, it lies dormant and deep until it simply explodes out of them. In others, there’s a very visible, and destructive, downward spiral. Some, the rare few, process quickly and move on.”

  “We’ll give her time to grieve, but she’ll have to do it with us close by. What happens next? After her time in ICU?”

  “When she’s stable, she’ll be flown to the Naval Medical Center in San Diego for healing and then for the fitting of a prosthesis. That could happen anywhere from two to six months from now and is totally dependent on how well her stump, and her psyche, heals.”

  “We’ll have a private plane at our disposal,” Noah said.

  Dr. Rutherford raised one eyebrow. “That would certainly allow for greater comfort for my patient during the long flight stateside,” she said. “She’ll need a nurse and a doctor to travel with her, of course.”

  “Whatever it costs, whatever red tape we have to cut through,” Sean said. “Brit’s the most important person in our lives.”

  “I can see that she is.”

  “When can we see her?” Sean had been aware the doctor had been putting them off the first time Noah asked that question. He wondered if she’d do so again, but she didn’t.

  “Probably in another hour. I’ll send someone to come and get you. About her parents?”

  “They’ve asked us to let them know her condition after surgery. And they asked if you could give them a bit of time and then contact them.”

  “Then I’ll call them in about two hours. That will give them time to think of any questions they want to ask me.” She got to her feet. “Lieutenant Phillips is young, she’s healthy, and in damn good physical condition. Barring any unforeseen medical developments or complications, she should be able to adapt to her new normal. I don’t mean to sound callous when I say that.”

  “You don’t, and you’re right. She should be able to adapt. But from what you just said, it sounds like it might take time for her to get there. She has us, and she has her folks, and we all love her unconditionally. None of us will give up on her, and that’s a promise.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  Sean waited until they were alone before he pulled out his cell phone. Chief Phillips answered on the first ring, and the fact that the man lowered his voice didn’t surprise him. With the man’s permission, Sean put the call on speaker.

  There was no good way to tell a father what Sean had to tell Bickford Phillips. So he said the words as simply and compassionately as he could.

  The older man sighed. “I have to be honest with you, Sean. When Tommy told me what he’d seen of Brit’s injuries after the crash, I figured this would probably be the result.” He took another deep breath. “All the deployments I’ve been on in my life? It damn well should have been me. Damn it all to hell.” He paused, and Sean heard the quaver in his inhalation. “Will you call Tommy? I promised him and the guys an update.”

  “I will. Sir? This is what Noah and I figured, too. You need to know that it makes no difference to us, to how I feel about your daughter. You should also probably know that I plan to marry her.”

  “Just you?”

  Sean felt his eyebrow go up. Bickford Phillips had just gobsmacked him. “Allow me to amend my last statement. We plan to marry your daughter.”

  He gave a short laugh. “Shocked you, did I? I’ve traveled the world plenty, and I’ve seen what I’ve seen.” Then he sighed. “I’ll let you go. I need to speak to Margaret. You tell our baby we love her. Give her a hug from us.”

  “Yes, sir. Yours will be the second.”

  “As it should be.” Chief Phillips disconnected the call.

  “Just when you think you can’t be surprised,” Noah said.

  “Yeah. It’s just as well. I’m fine with playing that game with the public. I prefer honesty with family.”

  At approximately an hour and a half after seeing Dr. Rutherford, a nurse appeared and led them into the post-op I.C.U. unit and straight to Brittany’s bedside.

  She was awake, her head turned away from the door. Tears tracked down her face. Sean wasted no time. He went to her right side while Noah took up his position at her left.

  She looked up when he came into view, and fresh tears filled her eyes. “Sean.”

  “Hey, baby girl.” He took her hand then bent and kissed her. “I’m so glad, so grateful that you’re alive. I don’t know if I could live without you. I love you, Brittany.” He gave her a second kiss then lifted his head and looked toward Noah.

  She did, too. Noah bent and kissed her. “I love you, Brit. We’re here for you, and we love you, no matter what.”

  “I…I’m so glad you’re here. Both of you. You promised you would be. I remember that. That moment when I was half out of it, back in Namibia. You promised me, and you’re here. You’ve never let me down. Not once.”

  Sean pulled a chair over close to the bed and sat down. He’d been able to do that without turning loose of her hand. “We keep our promises. That’s how Kendalls do things.” With his left hand, he stroked her hair. “Your mom and dad send their love.”

  “Do t
hey know…” Her voice broke, but she seemed to gather herself. “Do they know that I’m not whole anymore?”

  Sean stroked her hair again. In his peripheral vision, he saw Noah receive an extra chair from a nurse and sit down, saw him reach out and stroke her, shoulder to wrist. He was careful because her I.V. was on that side.

  “I called, as they asked me to after I spoke Dr. Rutherford. They know your lower left leg has been amputated, yes. That makes you wounded, baby girl, not less whole.”

  Her response was to press her face against his hand and cry.

  “That’s it,” Noah murmured. “You cry, sweetheart. We’re here. We’re going to be here for you.”

  Sean had to blink back his own tears, and then he gave up the effort. He laid his head beside hers, as did Noah on the other side. They both loved her, and loving her, they cried, not for her, but with her.

  Chapter Two

  May 10, 2018 San Diego 0900 HRS

  “How does that feel now?”

  Brittany looked down at the steel and plastic contraption that her nurse, Charles—call-me-Chuck—Jones had just attached to what was left of her left leg. Left of the left. Kinda has a catchy beat to it. I’d dance but hey, I’m no left feet.

  She was still standing, and he was kneeling in front of her, ensuring that the socket did indeed fit better. She’d felt as well as heard the solid click. The sound and sensation meant the pin on the end of the liner that encased her left of the left had locked into place. Supposed to be better. But how do I know? I’m not a fucking expert.

  She nearly lipped off aloud. I don’t know how to answer you. It feels like a fake leg. It sure as hell doesn’t feel like my real one. Instead, she paid attention to the remnant of her leg in the socket. There was a difference. “It feels more secure than it did. Not as loose.”

  Linda Parsons, the woman who’d been assigned as her prosthetist, squatted down beside Chuck. She ran her hands over the top of the socket and that part of her leg above it. “Does the fit feel tenuous, or does it feel secure?”

  The door to the rehab room opened. She didn’t have to look up to know that Sean and Noah had come in. She’d asked them to wait for a few minutes, long enough to get the prosthesis in place. She’d been careful, not letting them see her bare stump. She even kind of hated that she had to wear shorts as she practiced walking during these sessions. With long pants on, she could at least pretend that she was still a whole woman.

  “Look at that, Sean. See, we’re not the only people to kneel before Brittany.”

  Linda cast a quick look at the men, and there was no way Brit could not see the admiration in the other woman’s eyes.

  Jealousy, nasty and sneaky, wended its way into her psyche. Linda was everything she wasn’t. Elfin face, cheerleader perky—and whole of body.

  Next to the younger woman, Brit felt like a dried-up, chewed-up old crone. What can Sean and Noah possibly still see in me?

  She lived in fear, and she hated herself for that, too, but she couldn’t seem to control it. Fear that she would never, ever be able to reach any kind of comfort with this miserable twist of fate she’d been dealt. Fear that the men she loved more than life itself would turn away from her and choose someone more deserving of them and their devotion.

  Sean and Noah had proven their faithfulness over and over again. They’d kept their promises, leaving their work and joining her in Germany. Then they’d leased a private jet and flown her, along with a doctor and a nurse, to San Diego. A private jet, all the way from Germany! Once it had been time for her to become an outpatient, rather than having her stay on the base and her mom in a hotel, they’d leased a house. A whole fricking house, for her and her mom. Sean and Noah weren’t staying at that house, though it was certainly big enough that they could. No, they’d insisted that, since her mom was there with her and for her, it would be best if they stayed at a hotel. It only took them a few minutes to travel back and forth and…yeah, those two men had proven their devotion over and over again. And what was she doing? Venting her inner bitch and keeping a wall firmly between them. She felt so awful, so horrible so…out of control.

  Since that damn chopper had gone down, she felt like she couldn’t control a damn thing.

  “Doesn’t surprise me in the least,” Sean said.

  His words pulled her out of herself. Sean didn’t seem to even notice Linda, and Brit held that small victory close. Noah’s gaze, as well, was fixed on her and her alone. For now, at least, they were hers.

  She couldn’t help the niggling inner voice that taunted her with the repeating question, “For how long?” How long was she going to cling to them and their love like the pathetic loser that she was?

  You should let them go. They deserve better than you. You’re just being selfish.

  The mantra that began as a whisper in Germany had been growing steadily louder and stronger. She hadn’t had many tough choices in life. Really, up until the accident, she’d never had to work hard or sweat hard for anything in her life—well, except for basic training.

  Soon, she’d have to think about what the hell she was doing, complicating the lives of these two wonderful men.

  Soon, but not today.

  “How are you doing?” Sean leaned down and kissed her cheek then ran his hand down her back. When he started to pull his hand back, she grasped it with hers. It was the first overture she’d made in weeks, and the look of pleasure on his face was hard to miss.

  I’m such a fucking bitch. “I think it’s much better. It doesn’t feel loose anymore.”

  “It takes a while before you get to the point where the fit is good and lasts longer than a day or so. Eventually, it will, and you’ll go much longer between adjustments.”

  “As long as my leg keeps shrinking, you mean?” She couldn’t get the idea of a rotted, withered tree limb out of her mind. Every time she thought about the fact that the muscles in her left leg would eventually atrophy, that image arose—probably originating from some Halloween-themed cartoon she’d seen when she was just a kid.

  “Yes. It’s all part of the process,” Linda said. “Our job is to work with you to make this as comfortable as possible.”

  Just like in the wintertime when it’s only ten degrees out and some idiot weatherman claims that the next day will be warmer and reach twelve. There was nothing warm about twelve degrees, and there was nothing, nothing comfortable about this process at all.

  Chuck looked up at her. “I wear a top denture because my enamel wasn’t strong and I took a hockey puck to the face when I was twelve and wasn’t wearing my mouth guard.” He grinned, showing off his perfect top teeth. She wouldn’t have known they were dentures if he hadn’t told her. “My gums kept shrinking at the beginning, but now, not so much. That’s how it’s going to be for you, too. I know it seems like there are lot of new things to get used to, Lieutenant.”

  “It does.” This wasn’t a one-time injury, where she had a quick operation, got stitched up, healed, and then would be done and back to the way she’d been. She would never be Brittany again.

  There was a lot to learn about how to care for her residual limb, about sock ply, about hygiene—even for someone who never went a day without a shower, the constant alertness to the state of her left of the left seemed excessive. Except, of course, it wasn’t. This was all just part of her new normal.

  My new normal sucks gassy, stinky, puppy poop.

  Brittany shoved her bitchy inner voice away and sighed. Then she looked at her “team” and smiled. Did her smile look as phony as it felt? Apparently not, because Linda and Chuck both smiled back and seemed pleased with her effort.

  “All right.” Linda got to her feet and stepped away. “It seems to fit well while you’re standing. Let’s see how it fits walking.”

  Though she really didn’t need to, she hung on as she walked between the parallel bars. She walked from one end to the other and back. She was trying to walk “normally,” but it was tricky because her left leg didn’t fe
el normal. There was no sensation where the shoe on her fake foot met the floor. She had to sense the ground through her upper thigh. Regardless, she kept walking, back and forth, until Linda stopped her.

  “Come and sit. I have to adjust the set screws.”

  It seemed a lot of trouble to go to for a simple, tiny movement of the Allen wrench. But when Brittany got up and returned to the parallel bars and started walking again, the prosthetic did feel a tad better.

  “What are your plans after you’re discharged?” Chuck asked.

  That day wasn’t for another three weeks yet, but it was a date she was kind of looking forward to, and kind of dreading. She’d given up her small apartment in Indianapolis prior to her first deployment. All her worldly goods were stored at her parents’ house, and for the time being, she would be, too. Beyond that, she had no earthly idea what the hell she would do. Her small rural hometown outside the larger metropolitan area wasn’t going to win any awards for its cultural or epicurean offerings. Hell, they rolled up the sidewalks at night.

  “Spend some time decompressing, I guess. I’ll still be on medical leave.” And because she was talking to two of the professionals who often had varying motives for their questions, she told them what she figured they’d want to hear. “I’ve some weights stored at my folks’ place. I’m going to work on building up my upper body strength. There are some nice trails in our community that I can walk—if I can get someone to go with me. Until I know what my status is going to be in the Corps, I won’t make any definitive plans.”

  “Lieutenant? You were focused on your conversation and your gait evened out. Your legs did a near perfect job of working together to carry you.”

  Linda’s words soothed and irritated at the same time. So, their motive had been to distract me to prove to me I could walk better than I have been walking. She supposed as ulterior motives went, that wasn’t necessarily a bad one.

  They worked with her for the rest of her scheduled appointment, and then, thank goodness, the appointment was over and it was time to leave. She waved to the guys as she headed into the dressing room, promising to be back shortly.

 

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