Irina shook her head. “There will be plenty. I made extra. Come with me, Mercy. We’ll go to my powder room on this floor. I have a first-aid kit there. Farrah, we have other bathrooms if you’d like to freshen up before dinner. Karl!”

Rafe’s father appeared in the kitchen doorway, a Kiss the Chef apron covering his suit. Rafe realized he must have a meeting downtown later that night.

Or . . . Crap. Rafe blew out a breath. He’d forgotten that his parents had tickets to a play tonight. His mother did look awfully nice. They should have been in their seats at the theater by now.

Oh. Dammit. They skipped the play, he thought, feeling relief mixed with guilt. He’d needed his parents tonight and they’d dropped everything to help, just as they always did.

“Yes, my love?” Karl said sweetly, perking up when he saw Mercy and Farrah. “Welcome, ladies. I hope you’re hungry.”

“They will eat,” Irina said firmly, and Rafe watched his father bite back a grin. “I need you to go to the SUV and get their luggage.” She made a shooing motion to Mercy. “The powder room is at the end of the hall. Let’s get you bandaged up. Farrah, my husband can show you around when he comes back with your bags.”

“What about me?” Rafe asked, feeling extremely useless, which seemed to be his norm these days. Hold on, there. You kept Mercy safe tonight. That’s not useless. “What can I do?”

“Go stir the stew,” his father said as he passed Rafe in the foyer. “That’s what I was doing. Don’t let it burn.” But he stopped, hand on the doorknob. “What’s that?”

Rafe looked to where Karl was pointing. “My new cane.” Unlike the wooden cane that his father had hand-made for him when Rafe had left the hospital, this new cane was a cheap aluminum model that Sasha had picked up at a drugstore near the airport. “I had to surrender the one you gave me to the Feds as evidence, because I used it to hit that bastard Burton. They say I’ll get it back.”

Karl frowned. “But that one’s not tall enough for you and you’re hurting. I’ll make you another one. Go, give the stew a stir, then sit down.” And then he was gone to do Irina’s bidding. That was Rafe’s dad. He saw opportunities to help, so he helped. No questions, no looking for credit. Karl Sokolov was the best man Rafe had ever known.

And Karl was right about the cane. It wasn’t a good fit at all. Rafe made his way into the kitchen, wincing at the pain shooting up his thigh.

“Did you reinjure your leg?” Farrah asked quietly as she followed him. “You must have hit it hard when you took Burton down in the airport.”

“I may have,” Rafe admitted dolefully, because it hurt like hell. “It didn’t bother me until we got out of the SUV, but that was mostly adrenaline, I think. I’ll make an appointment with the doctor to check it out.”