A Father for Zach. Irene Hannon

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СКАЧАТЬ cast another dubious eye at her foot, blinking back tears.

      Without waiting for a reply, Zach squatted in front of her and examined her swelling toes.

      “Wow! They’re turning purple, Mom. Do they hurt?”

      “Yeah.” A lot.

      “Should we call 911?”

      He gave her a hopeful look. She knew he was desperate for some excitement, some activity to break the monotony of his days on this quiet byway they’d called home for the past three weeks. Their occasional trips to the grocery and hardware stores didn’t provide enough variety for her inquisitive six-year-old. And he’d hated sitting through weddings, like the one she’d played at two weeks ago. But since their move from Atlanta, she’d been too busy settling in to do much exploring with him.

      That was about to change, she conceded as she tried to put her weight on her foot and cringed. She didn’t intend to summon an ambulance, but a trip to the ER seemed unavoidable.

      “No, honey. I don’t need 911. But I think I better have a doctor take a look at my foot.”

      “In town?”

      “Yes.”

      “Can we stop at Downyflake before we come home?”

      Already the local hangout, known for its sugar doughnuts—which had edged out Hershey’s Kisses as her son’s favorite treat—was high on his list of must-visit places whenever they ventured out.

      “We’ll see what time it is when we’re through.”

      “Okay. Want me to get your purse?”

      “That would be good. And grab my sandals, too, okay?”

      While he headed back into the kitchen to retrieve the items, Catherine tested her foot again. If she put her weight on her heel, she could hobble as far as the car, she decided. But beyond that…

      A sudden surge of panic swept over her, and she did her best to stifle it. She’d find a way to cope. She always did. Things would be okay.

      They had to be.

      “Here they are, Mom.” Zach burst through the door, purse and shoes in hand. “You want to lean on me?”

      Despite the pain that was intensifying with every passing minute, she dredged up a smile as she gazed down into his earnest, trusting face. What would she do without this little guy? If it hadn’t been for him—and her music—she’d never have made it through the past two years. Yet she’d come so close to losing him, too. Fear clutched at her, twisting her stomach and renewing her resolve to make his safety her top priority.

      “That would be nice, Zach. Thank you.”

      After she slipped her feet into her sandals, he moved beside her. She’d intended only to lay her hand on his shoulder, but she found herself leaning on him more than she expected as she locked the door and they headed for her Honda Civic, parked in front.

      “I guess it hurts, huh, Mom?”

      “A little. But the doctor will fix it up and I’ll be good as new. Can you get your seat belt on by yourself?”

      “Sure.”

      He hopped into the backseat while she took her place behind the wheel and carefully lifted her injured foot inside. As she put the key in the ignition, she checked on Zach. He was already strapped into the car they’d driven up from Atlanta, eager for an outing—no matter the destination.

      She grimaced as she eased the car back, every little bump on the gravel drive reverberating through her foot. Zach was watching her face in the rearview mirror, his expression somber.

      “I guess maybe you should have worn shoes when you were carrying those paint cans,” he offered.

      No kidding.

      A tall, white-coated man with light brown hair entered the examining room at Cottage Hospital and smiled first at Zach. “Hey, big guy. How are you doing?”

      The youngster shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

      “Getting tired of sitting around?”

      “Yeah.”

      “I hear you. Let’s get your mom taken care of so you can go home.”

      He turned to Catherine and held out his hand. Midthirties, she estimated as he approached the examining table, with an appealing compassion in his blue eyes. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

      “Christopher Morgan, Mrs. Walker. Sorry it took me a while to get to you. We were dealing with some victims of a car accident who needed immediate attention.”

      She took his hand. “No problem. So what’s the bad news?”

      “Two broken toes.”

      Her shoulders drooped. The verdict wasn’t a surprise, but she’d been hoping they might only be bruised. She’d even toyed with the idea of praying for that outcome, though she’d quickly dismissed that notion. Why bother? God hadn’t come through for her the last time she’d sought His help.

      “What does that mean in practical terms, Doctor?” She tried not to panic again, but it was difficult to remain calm when she had no idea how she was going to whip the inn into shape in time for her first customers.

      “No strenuous activity involving your feet for the next six weeks.”

      “I suppose climbing up and down ladders falls into that category?”

      He folded his arms across his chest. “Definitely.”

      She stared down at her elevated foot, which was surrounded by ice packs.

      “Are you gonna put on a cast?” Zach interjected. “You know, the kind people draw on?”

      “Nope. That’s the good news.” The doctor smiled at him, then redirected his attention to Catherine. “A hard-soled, sturdy shoe should do the trick. You need to protect your toes from further injury while they heal.”

      “I have some hiking boots.”

      “Those will work.”

      Good thing she’d thrown them into a box at the last minute instead of giving them to charity, as she’d been tempted to do, Catherine reflected. Although looking at them had evoked a bittersweet pang and reminded her of happy times never to return, the thought of cutting that link to David had been more painful than dealing with resurrected memories. So she’d kept them.

      “Now let’s talk treatment.”

      The doctor’s voice drew her back to the present, and she shoved her melancholy thoughts into a dark corner of her mind.

      “Expect quite a bit of bruising and swelling. Prop your foot on a pillow when you’re sleeping, and stay off it as much as possible for the next few days at least—no prolonged standing СКАЧАТЬ