Second Chance Ranch (14 page)

“I know you can, Zac. I just want to help.”

He propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “If you really want to help me, stay here and cut Eklund’s fields. This dry weather isn’t going to hold forever. I don’t really have the time to be spending a day in Denver.” His voice was low as he linked his fingers together.

That was no understatement. She had the Foundation coming for an inspection tomorrow and her reporting files were a mess. Patrick and Tina did their best to cover for her, but if she was going to be named director of the camp by the Foundation, she was going to have to make the presentation tomorrow, not her staff. If the good Lord smiled on her and gave them the best case scenario at the medical center, they’d be back in Hawk Ridge by early evening—plenty of time to prepare for a make-or-break meeting.

“I know, the timing is pretty poor for me, too,” she said, trying to sound sympathetic, but all she got was a raised brow. “Look, I still know people at the Med Center. If I come with you, we might get more answers than the standard ‘the doctor will be in touch,’ line they’ll give you. I know you don’t want to spend more time with me than you have to, but try and put that aside right now. As soon as they collect your marrow, you’ll be through with me.”

Sandy walked up to their table and slid a smothered breakfast burrito in front of Zac. “I assumed you wanted your usual.” She slid an empty plate in front of Jen. “And for you to snag
just a little taste
, right?”

Zac shook his head. “I haven’t stepped foot in the diner in years. How can I be predictable?”

The smell of green chili and cheese wafted around her. Jen grinned. “How about a side of toast?”

Sandy stepped over to the counter and brought back another plate with buttered whole wheat toast. “Didn’t know if you really just wanted coffee, or not.”

When Sandy left, Zac unrolled the silverware from the white paper napkin with the wildflower imprint in the corner. “Let it go, Jen. I’ll go through the tests and donate the marrow. You gave this child up for adoption, she’s no longer in your life. So many years have gone by, it’s not like we have an attachment to her or anything.”

His tone slayed her. “Zac, Carli will always be our child. We made her, we created a human being. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but there wasn’t a good time.” She didn’t want to get into how abandoned she’d felt. That past was behind her. What she wanted was — she frowned at the toast before her — what did she want? Forgiveness? Absolution? “I want you to know I cherish that child because we made her together. I want to be there for her … and for you.”

A strange look crossed his face. He drew a breath as if to say something, then expelled it. Focusing on his plate, Zac shifted in his seat. “I’m sure she appreciates your concern.”

He held out his hand. “Let’s say grace and eat before it gets cold. We’ve got a few hours of driving ahead of us.”

Jen settled her palm in his and as she listened to the simple thanks Zac offered for their food. He hadn’t sent her away.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

* * *

“It’s highly unusual, but not impossible. Matching the four markers we anticipated, but matching them all? I’d say that’s a miracle.” The doctor frowned as he glanced over the papers in the folder.

“What’s your concern, Dr. Prescott?” Jen sat beside him in a matching blue upholstered side chair, her elbows resting on the arms while she tugged at her fingers. “Is there a problem?”

Zac rolled down his sleeves as he glanced around the physician’s office, counting the number of diplomas attached to the walls. The man had to have spent most of his life in school. Probably a good thing. The more prepared, the better. From what he’d been through today, he hoped someone knew what they were doing. The tests had taken up pretty much the whole day, most of the time waiting for rooms to open up and technicians stabbing him with needles and questions. With the tests finally behind them, Zac just wanted to salute his opinion of the whole procedure and drive home.

The doctor sat back and tapped his pencil against Zac’s chart. Though the staff had been polite to him, Zac thanked the good Lord for the bop upside the head when he was about to tell Jen to hit the road earlier that morning. Like she’d promised, they had talked to a variety of medical staff that, had he come for the tests alone, wouldn’t have giving him the time of day.

“For parents to be this closely "matched" with his or her child, both parents must by chance have some HLA genes in common with each other.” He glanced from Zac to Jen. “It’s very unlikely — really, we’re talking only about a one in a million chance for two unrelated individuals to have the same HLA genes in common — and then there’s only a one in 200 chance that a parent and child will be matched.”

“I wouldn’t go buying a lottery ticket on those odds.” Jen nudged his foot with hers. He looked up as she gave a nod toward the doctor. Zac heard the numbers and had done the math in his head. Tired and hungry, he had little energy for excitement. “So we’re a miracle.”

The doctor nodded. “As far as matches go, yes. But when we tested the original blood sample, we detected a virus.”

“A virus?” That bit of information knocked the tired right out of Zac. Having gotten this far, he hadn’t thought a glitch in the road was possible. “What kind of virus? I don’t feel sick. ”

“It’s called Cytomegalovirus, or CMV. It’s a common virus.” The doctor waved his hand as if considering the amount of information to disclose. “More than half the adults in the United States have it. When people first contract CMV, they develop symptoms similar to a cold, so it’s nothing they get alarmed about. The symptoms disappear, but the virus remains hidden in the body.”

The muscles across his shoulders tensed. No, this couldn’t be happening. They’d come too far. “So, I can’t donate?”

“We need to run some tests on Carli. Depending on her status, your virus might actually help build her immunity.” He looked over his glasses at Zac. “We’ll know more once the results come back.”

“So what do we do now?” Jen had moved closer to the desk, the heel of her palm resting on the oak surface. “Can he take something for it?”

“There’s nothing more you can do. The virus is something that lives in Zac’s body. No harm to him.” Dr. Prescott rose from his chair and met Zac’s gaze. “It’s all on our end now. We’ll check and double check all the results. When we decide whether you’re a safe match for her, we’ll call you back, and Carli can begin the chemotherapy to prepare her body for the new cells.”

Zac pushed back his chair as Jennifer rose and shook the doctor’s hand. Prescott offered his hand to Zac. “We will be in touch when we have a better idea of the time frame. I trust the numbers you’ve given are direct contact numbers?”

He looked at Jen, meeting her relieved gaze with what appeared to be more confidence than he felt. “Connections are sketchy in the mountains. I’ve given you my direct line, but feel free to contact Jennifer at the ranch if you need to. I know her signals are stronger.” A tiny smile lifted the corner of her mouth as she nodded.

“Fine. Stop by the desk and sign the release forms for confidential information.” Dr. Prescott shuffled around the desk and clapped Zac on the shoulder. “Many people are registered for donation, but only 1 in approximately 50 actually follow through. Carli is fortunate to have such a close match for her transplant and that your antigen patterns match so closely. Please don’t dismiss how rare this is. Without being a sibling, hitting all the markers is truly a miracle. With our experienced team and a lot of prayer, Carli will be a normal little girl again before you know it.”

“Good to hear,” Zac said quietly as he shrugged on his jacket. He followed Jennifer out the door of the office and into the physician’s common waiting area.

“We can get the paperwork over here.” Jen tugged on his sleeve as she pointed to the station set up in the middle of the lobby area. “We’re almost done.”

“Hallelujah.” Through all the stress tests, the EKG, the blood drawing, he’d held up like a rock. Frankly, the tests weren’t much different than the physical Davidson Enterprises required him to take each year. It wasn’t until they sat down in Dr. Prescott’s office that the magnitude of what was going to happen smacked him. This was life and death…for another human being…his daughter. He rested his elbow on the counter of the nurses’ station while Jen explained what they needed. The stable, foot-wide surface was enough for him to grip and clear away the stars forming around his peripheral vision. Not very heroic to go fainting after the blood-letting was over.

“You okay?” Jen pressed her shoulder against his. “You’re looking a bit pale.”

The scent of her fruity shampoo competed with the smell of bleached counter tops. “I’m fine. I just want to get going.”

As he blinked for vision, he felt her hand slide within his jacket and rub his back. The simple familiar sensation tilted his world back on its axis. How many times in the past had Jen rubbed his back and chased away his anxiety or stress? Too many times to count.

And too disturbing to realize it still worked.

“You need to read this before you sign it.” Jen captured his attention as she patted his back before withdrawing her hand. She slipped a sheet of paper in front of him. “I don’t want to hear about your secrets without your knowing about it.”

“Fine one to talk.” He took the release and read every word. The verbiage gave Jennifer the right to his medical history, to be in on major decisions in his life — on his behalf, if necessary. He scrawled his signature at the bottom, brushing away the thought how strange there wasn’t another person he could think of whom he’d give such personal access to his life.

She took the paper and added her signature below his and slid the form back to the nurse. Linking her arm through his, she tugged him toward the glass doors leading to the parking lot. “I could say the same for you. C’mon, we’re done here. Let’s grab something to eat and go.”

* * *

She loved Zac’s old truck.

Sitting on the bench seat encased in a saddle-blanket seat cover, Jennifer smoothed her hand over the nubby fabric. Soft to the touch and frayed at the corners, the seat gave the entire cab a homey feeling. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Zac Davidson was known for doing some of his best living in his truck. From hunting to fishing to skiing, Zac lived life to the fullest and he used to drag her along kicking and screaming for the ride. Not that she really protested, she smirked to herself. Back then, she would’ve followed Zac anywhere.

The nostalgia of the truck caught her off guard. Zac made tons of money working for his family. He could’ve had any vehicle he wanted. Yet he chose to drive the twelve year old Ford truck he’d gotten brand new off the lot for high school graduation rather than trading in for new, two-year leases. She drew a breath, inhaling the ingrained smells of leather chaps, rifle barrel bluing, fleece-lined canvas jackets, and most recently, fast-food sub sandwiches. The touch, the smell, the tastes all evoked memories of that summer, teasing the edges of her mind until she brutally pushed them back. Drawing her splayed fingers into a fist, she sat up straighter and looked out the window onto the darkened highway leading home. Now was not the time to dredge up events that had gotten them here in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” Zac gave her the once-over and then returned his attention to the road. “Something spook you?”

Jen rubbed away the goosebumps on her arms. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, today kicked my butt more than I want to admit.”

She let his misinterpretation slide. “I’ve pulled shifts for years and there were times I didn’t think I’d last more than a year or two. The work messed with my emotions so much. The couple of years I worked for my dad at the clinic in Hawk Ridge should have been a vacation for me. Instead, I found I missed the faster pace of working with families and staff. Go figure.”

Cars sped past them as the twilight deepened to dark. She tried to concentrate on snippets of the presentation she needed to make tomorrow, but the details played on the edge of her recall.

“You’ve just got a big heart for folks, Jen.”

Her loosely grasped facts and figures scattered. She looked over and caught sight of the firm line of his jaw as headlights from oncoming traffic sped by. She couldn’t tell if muscles bunched or if the shadows played with his rugged profile. “It’s just what I do.”

He met her gaze for a moment, the lines unmistakable beneath his dark lashes, yet the longing in his eyes capturing her heart. They’d had that connection once…a sharing of the mind and soul. A time when she thought she could never live without him.

“It’s who you are.” He turned his attention back to the road. “Are you sure you had enough to eat? We could’ve stopped somewhere and eaten instead of rushing back home.”

The moment — the connection between them — vanished so quickly, Jen wondered if she’d imagined it. No, she didn’t imagine it. His simple words ignited a yearning within her. One too dangerous to even consider pursuing. Zac not only posed a threat to her prospects of buying the Trails’ End, he posed a threat to her overall sanity. Moments ago, she’d blamed her emotional roller coaster on her work at the hospital. Her concern for her patients hadn’t held a candle to the puree of emotions he’d left her with.

“I really have to get back. I have a meeting tomorrow and still have prep work to do.” That was putting it mildly. All day she’d been mentally categorizing notes on the camp operation. She just hoped she’d be able to pull the supporting data on her presentation before nine o’clock tomorrow morning.