“Sergeant—”

“Bill.”

She paused and then said, “Bill, you had a bullet enter your chest and park itself next to your heart. Then someone who is not a heart surgeon cut you open, removed said bullet, and patched you back up. I spread your ribs open with a metal tool so that I could reach the bullet. That was four days ago. I’m sorry you’re feeling cooped up. You have to let your body heal or your career as you know it will cease to exist.”

He stared at her with a stern look on his face. Finally, he lay back against his pillow and huffed out a breath. “Fine. Why can’t I go back to base? Why do I have to go home?”

“Bill, do you not want to go home?”

“I don’t want . . .”

She waited and then said, “To be replaced?”

He glared at her. “I am irreplaceable. My home is a single wide in Pelham, Alabama, that my mother usually shares with her man of the month. I’d prefer to convalesce elsewhere.”

She remembered their conversation in the jungle. “In North Carolina, you’ll go to barracks?”

“Yes, until it’s time to move to Kentucky.”

“How about Germany? One of the doctors here mentioned it.”

He smiled and held up both hands as if to shrug. “Germany, Bethesda, or Walter Reed. I’m not picky.”

She patted his shoulder and stood. “I’ll see what I can do. But I want eight solid weeks from you. That’s how long it’s gonna take your chest to heal.”

“Deal.”

She made a mental note to ask the doctor about his transfer. “Okay. I’m off to see Ozzy.”

She walked to the end of the room and peeked around the curtain that shielded Ozzy’s bed. He sat with a book in his hand. He looked up at her with blank eyes.

“Looks like the infection got kicked back,” she said as cheerfully as possible. “It’s good to see you sitting up.”

He looked at the bed, his eyes pointing in the direction where his leg should be. “I imagine I’ll do quite a bit of sitting in the future.”

She slipped her hands into the pockets of her skirt. “This will sound like a platitude, but it’s not. The advancements in prosthetics are remarkable.”

He snarled. “I guess it’s good I lost my leg now instead of earlier, then, right?”

“Ozzy, I did everything I knew how to do.” Her voice cracked, and she put her hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing. Forget trying to be cheerful. She just needed to keep from becoming a puddle.

His face softened. “Doc, you and I both know I’m alive because you did what you did. I don’t hate you for it. I imagine if I’d been birthing a baby, you would’ve been a rock star.”