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Cal rose to accompany her, but Rachelle laid her hand on his arm. “Finish your meal.”
He grabbed his plate and bottle of water. “I’m next anyway. I’ll eat in the hall.”
A small smile curved her mouth. “Still protecting me?”
“Always.” Something about the terrorists’ determination to capture the two women bothered him. While he couldn’t pin down what it was, he didn’t like it. Cal followed her to the exam room.
Sorenson pointed at the table. “Sit there, Rachelle. Taylor, scram but don’t go far.”
“Yes, sir.”
He closed the door behind him and dragged a chair from the office into the hallway. After polishing off his meal, Cal looked in on Eric and Amy. Jesse came to stand beside him in the hallway.
“How are they?”
“Amy’s fine. Eric will be laid up for weeks. Although the surgeon did a good job, Eric has an infection. Sorenson put him on strong antibiotics.”
“Prognosis?”
“Full recovery, but it will take a while.” He inclined his head toward Cal’s arm. “What about you?”
“A few stitches. Rachelle wants the doc to check my arm anyway.”
The medic’s eyebrows rose. “Didn’t know you two were an item.”
“She doesn’t, either.”
Jesse flashed a grin. “Like that, is it? Well, this will be fun to watch.”
“Want me to bring you a sandwich?”
“I’ll fix my own when Jackson returns.”
The door to the exam room opened, and Sorenson pointed at Cal. “Next.”
“Wish me luck,” he said under his breath.
Jesse clapped him on his uninjured shoulder with a chuckle. He took Cal’s empty plate and bottle. “I’ll take care of these for you,” he said, then returned to his patient.
Rachelle was still seated on the table. He made a beeline for her, searching her face for an indication of a problem. Seeing none, he breathed easier. “Verdict?”
“I’m fine.” She flicked a glance at the doctor. “Dr. Sorenson recommends that I talk to one of the Fortress counselors.”
“A precaution,” the doctor assured him. “I suggested the same for Amy.”
“It’s a good idea,” Cal said.
“Have you talked to one of the counselors before?”
“Many times. Talking to a counselor helps you process what you saw and experienced.” And perhaps aid her acceptance of what he did for a living.
“Let’s see your arm, Taylor. I have furry patients waiting.” The doc removed the bandage. After a moment, he said, “Jackson does good work.” Sorenson removed his rubber gloves. “Looks fine. If you have a problem, see one of the doctors in Nashville.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
“Out. I have real patients who need me.”
With a grin, Cal lifted Rachelle from the exam table and ushered her to the kitchen to wait for Eli.
