“I know lots of things.” He pulled on a pair of gloves and held up a box. “For instance, I know I have antibiotic ointment and sutures in this box. I know you’re going to sit still and let me fix you up because you have now done everything you needed to do, so you can relax.”

Resigned, Rick sat down, and Waller stood above him. “I said it was okay.”

“You clearly haven’t looked in the mirror.” Waller held up a syringe. “Want me to numb it, or are you still feeling the need to act tough?”

Considering how bad his ear stung without anyone touching it, he finally relented. “Numb it.”

After Waller finished stitching his temple and ear, he settled into an uncomfortable waiting room chair and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, someone touched his shoulder. Before he could think, he had ahold of the person’s wrist and had brought up his other arm to grab a very narrow neck. His eyes flew open, and he found himself staring into Cynthia’s shocked face.

Forcing himself to relax, he released his grip on her and said, “Never touch a sleeping soldier.”

“I accept your apology,” she said in a husky voice, and he smirked. “You’d think I would have learned my lesson the first time,” she said and cleared her throat.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and sat up straighter. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten.” She sank into the chair next to him as if someone had pulled a plug on her. “In residency, we worked thirty-six hours in a row. My first shift like that, we had so many women in labor they were lined up in the hallway and we were calling hospitals for other places they could go. Some sort of mini baby boom. I know I’ve been this tired before, but right now I can barely remember it.”

He looked at her. She wore surgical scrubs and had her hair stuffed up under a surgical cap. Her eyes were red rimmed and framed with dark circles.

“How’s Ozzy?” he asked.

“I did everything I could do, but I am not a vascular surgeon and he really needed a vascular surgeon.” She leaned her head back and pressed her fists into her eyes. “I tried to save it, but we had to take the leg.”

The breath caught in the back of his throat. They’d had to take Ozzy’s leg? He couldn’t imagine. His stomach turned as he thought about every decision he’d made in the last few days, wondering if he could have possibly done something different that wouldn’t have ended this way. Despite all the denial and worry swirling through his mind, he said, “Cynthia, he would have died if you hadn’t done what you did. You and I both know that. He’s gonna live because of you.”