She smiled.
“No.”
Cole frowned.
“No?”
“You’re Doc.”
Several riders behind him laughed.
Cole turned.
A gray-bearded man immediately pointed toward someone else as though the information had come from them.
Ellie grinned.
“One of them said it.”
Cole sighed.
“Traitors.”
“Why Doc?”
“Old nickname.”
“Are you a doctor?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Cole hesitated.
“Long story.”
A rider called from across the room:
“Navy corpsman!”
Cole looked back.
“Anybody else want to help?”
Laughter moved through the room.
Ellie smiled wider.
Cole looked toward Rachel.
“I make no promise about a ride.”
Ellie’s smile faded.
“But…”
He continued.
“I promise I’ll see whether there’s a safe way to try.”
Mark immediately said:
“No promises.”
Cole turned.
Mark’s face was not angry now.
Afraid.
The difference mattered.
“She hears promises differently.”
Cole looked back at Ellie.
The child was watching him.
He nodded.
Fair.
He crouched again.
“I’m going to ask a lot of smart people a lot of annoying questions.”
Ellie nodded solemnly.
“And if your doctors say no?”
She looked down.
Cole waited.
Ellie whispered:
“Then no.”
“That’s the rule.”
“Yes.”
He held out one enormous fist.
She bumped it with hers.
Then noticed something when his vest shifted.
A small strip of faded pink fabric pinned inside the leather lining.
Only the edge was visible.
Cole immediately closed the vest.
Ellie looked curious.
He changed the subject.
“You like pink?”
She looked offended.
“My chair is pink.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“Yes.”
“Thought so.”
Mark remained unconvinced.
Rachel looked at the business card again.
Cole stood.
“Call if you want me to ask.”
He turned away.
Ellie called:
“Doc?”
He looked back.
“If they say yes…”
Her eyes were enormous.
“You’ll really take me?”
Cole stared at her for a long second.
Something old opened inside him.
A hospital room.
A smaller girl.
Red hair.
A voice asking:
Daddy, next Saturday?
And Cole saying:
Next Saturday, bug.
Promise?
Promise.
Then there had not been another Saturday.
Cole looked at Ellie.