Doctor, Soldier, Daddy. Caro Carson
along felt wrong to Jamie on every level.
“What do I tell my son?” Jamie asked. “‘Here’s someone who loves you and cares for you, but say bye-bye now because I’ve found someone I want to sleep with’?”
Quinn opened his eyes and leaned forward to speak with forceful quiet. “You can’t seriously plan on being celibate the rest of your life. You might be in mourning for your baby’s mother right now, but one day you won’t want to be buried anymore. You’ll look around and what will you see?”
Quinn gestured toward the empty chair. “You’re going to be tied to this...this...girl, and it will cost you half of everything you own to get the divorce you need, unless you have an ironclad prenup.”
Jamie stood up, angry—the same kind of anger he’d felt when the nurses had cut Kendry to shreds.
He left the cafeteria through its outdoor dining area, planning to take a shortcut to the emergency room through the hospital’s parklike courtyard. Quinn dogged his every step, still talking.
Jamie tuned him out. He didn’t need legal protection against Kendry. Whomever he married would be providing him protection if the State Department should attempt to remove Sam from his custody. Removing a child from a stable, two-parent home would look bad. Jamie could leverage that in the press, if he had to.
If the State Department investigated. They might, because no child had been brought to the States from Afghanistan by an American soldier. He’d checked. No Afghani child had been adopted by a non-Muslim, period, just as no soldier had been granted permission to marry an Afghani.
If Sam wasn’t his biological child. He might not be, because Amina had told him that life was short, that she lived to seize the day because you never knew when someone you loved might die. The rumor mill said there’d been someone she’d loved before she loved Jamie, someone who’d been killed in action.
If. Always if hanging over his head, a sword that, if it fell, could cut Sam out of his life.
“How do you plan on going from lunches with an orderly who calls you ‘Dr. MacDowell’ to proposing marriage?”
“Hell, Quinn, I don’t have all the answers. I only know that Sam is attached to Kendry. She’s pleasant, she’s intelligent, and she seems to be attached to Sam, too. So, yeah, I’m having lunch with her every day.”
An image flashed in his mind of Kendry in his house. He could see her holding Sam, standing in the kitchen, smiling the way she did when she talked about life with her unconventional parents. Jamie would not be alone. Someone would share his burdens.
“She’d be the one doing me the favor if she married me,” Jamie said, stopping by a sumac tree.
Quinn was silent.
The leaves of the sumac were already starting to turn orange for fall. Less than two weeks were left before he reported to his new reserve unit for the first weekend drill. Sam was scheduled for his palate repair after that. Once that was healed, the hole in the wall of his heart would be repaired. Now that Sam was nearing his first birthday, the surgeons were willing to fix the things he’d been too frail to address earlier in his life.
Jamie rubbed his jaw, too tired to fight, too weary to explain.
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