tight as they screeched to a halt at the entrance to the emergency room. Leif cut the
engine and leaped out. Racing around the car, he snatched the boy out of her arms. Tracy
sent up another fervent prayer as Leif carried him through the automatic doors.
Removing the keys, she jumped out of the car and hurried into the emergency room. Thank
goodness, an orderly was already whisking Luke down the hall. Leif stood at the front
desk, impatiently filling out the paperwork. I’m his uncle. He was almost shouting. I’ll
sign any authorization you need. Just take care of that boy.
His face tense, his jaw set, he turned away from the desk. He needed comfort as much as
Luke did. And then he noticed her standing there. Tracy, he groaned, I’m sorry. Your
clothes are ruined.
Tracy looked down at her shirt. She hadn’t realized that her blouse was soaked with
splotches of blood. But that was the least of her worries. It doesn’t matter, she
insisted. Luke matters.
I’ll get Mark’s jacket from the car. It should fit you.
Tracy handed him the keys so he could move the SUV away from the entrance.
Leif looked relieved to have an outlet for his pent-up anxiety. I’ll be right back.
Three people sat in the waiting area, scanning listlessly through magazines or simply
staring out the window. They all turned to gape at Tracy’s bloodstained shirt.
Ignoring the stares, Tracy found a seat. Poor little Luke. What was happening? Had they
stopped the bleeding? Was he still crying?
Leif returned with a nylon windbreaker. She pulled the jacket on over her blouse. The
stains didn’t bother her, but Luke would be frightened if he saw his own blood.
Leif dropped into the chair beside her, looking whipped. He took her hand and they
whispered a prayer together. History was repeating itself. Here they were again, side by
side, anxiously waiting at a hospital for words of hope from a doctor. If only there was
some way to reassure Leif. The calm, laid-back police chief was wound up tight. Once again
he wasn’t able to help.
And then they heard Luke’s wails from the end of the hall. Leif leaped to his feet as a
nurse hurried into the waiting area. She eyed the visitors. Is there a Miss Dixon here?
Tracy jumped up. I’m here.
The nurse signaled Tracy to follow her. Luke wants you to hold his hand while the doctor
stitches him up.
Of course! Tracy hurried down the hall behind the nurse with Leif at her heels.
A white-coated young doctor was examining Luke’s arm as they entered the cubicle. The
boy’s tear-stained face brightened at the sight of reinforcements. I’m not a baby, he
hiccupped.
No, Leif assured him. You’re a big, strong boy.
OK, big boy, you’re going to be very brave and sit still for me, the doctor insisted.
Luke reached out a hand toward Tracy. She put an arm around him and pulled him close,
resting his head against her shoulder. He seemed so small against the stark white hospital
sheets.
She turned a worried eye toward Leif. He stood in the doorway, his strained face showing
every inch of Luke’s pain. The big tough cop was a marshmallow. Their gazes locked in a
shared concern.
Luke stared at the needle in terror as the doctor prepared to stitch the wound. Was there
a way to distract him?
She came up with a story. Luke, I had a bad fall like yours when I was about your age.
Luke managed to drag his gaze away from the needle. Wha—What happened?
Well, my brother and I had a tree house—way up high in a giant oak tree. It was so high we
had to prop a ladder against the tree so we could climb up to the lowest branch. But guess
what happened.
What? Luke’s gaze was fixed on her. He didn’t seem to be aware that the doctor was already
putting stitches in his arm. Apparently they had given him a local anesthetic.
Tracy hurried on before she lost his attention. We were playing a game in the tree house,
and my brother