Joe sat and asked, “What’s got a bee in Caitlin’s bonnet?”
Jack’s shoulders slumped forward. “She and Jamie found my Purple Heart.”
“So you talked about it?”
“No.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “So, that’s what’s at the bottom of your troubles?”
“I never said—”
“A word,” Joe finished for him. “Does your dad know that you earned one?”
“Earned one?” Jack ground out. “An IED exploded as I was stitching one of the marines in the battalion I was responsible for back together. He died,” he rasped, “and they gave me a freaking medal for it!”
Blinded by anger, tortured with guilt, he didn’t realize the other man had wrapped his arms around him, but when the order came to, “Breathe, Corpsman,” he obeyed.
“At ease,” Joe commanded, stepping back.
Jack snapped back to the present as the red haze cleared. “Damn.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Jack hesitated and Joe said, “You can tell the doctor over at the VA, you can tell me, or you can tell your dad when he gets here in about two hours.”
Where did he begin?
“What was the marine’s name?” Joe’s question burned in Jack’s gut until he thought he’d puke.
“Corpsman?” Joe bit out.
Reacting to the tone, he answered automatically, “Yes, sir?”
“I asked you a question.”
Jack didn’t look up when he rasped, “John Napolitano.”
“Where was he from?”
“Nebraska.”
“What happened?”
“He was already badly injured, and I had been stitching him up but didn’t realize he’d been hit again until I saw the pool of blood seeping out from beneath his flak jacket.”
“He was their leader?”
Jack nodded. “He insisted that I help the others first. One of the marines was probably going to lose a leg, but I did the best I could, applying the tourniquet. I don’t know what ever happened to him.”
“You worked hard to save them.”
Joe’s statement eased the tight knot forming in Jack’s throat. He swallowed and answered, “Yes.”
“Then what?”
“I was stitching our squad leader back together when I heard someone shout, ‘Incoming.’”
“And?”
“I reacted.”
Joe placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “What did you do?”
“I threw myself over two of the guys.”
While Jack stared off into space reliving that horrible instant in time, Joe nodded. “You saved their lives.”
Jack shook his head sadly. “Our squad leader died.”
“What about the others?”
“They survived.”
“And you?”
“Three operations and my leg’s almost straight again. Removing most of the shrapnel was hell.”
Joe nodded. “Caught some myself years back. Still think there’s a piece floating around in my side. So the powers that be gave you a Purple Heart for being wounded in action.”
Jack nodded. “Didn’t seem right, what with Nappy dead.”
“Nappy?”
“Napolitano.”
“When are you going to tell Cait?”
“Tell her what, that I’m a failure?”
“How did you fail?”
“I didn’t work fast enough. I should have saved him.”
“With all of your years in the navy, he couldn’t have been the first or only one you weren’t able to save.”
Jack’s shoulders slumped again. “Nappy was my friend.”
“As a doctor, you know you can’t save everyone—that’s up to a much higher power than yours. That IED didn’t have Napolitano’s name, or yours, on it. Did it?”
“No, but—”
“Don’t let it be personal, Jack…it was war.”
“War is hell.”
“I know.” Joe leaned forward. “Talk to Cait.”
“I will. Thanks, Joe.”
“Glad to help.”
“You’re pretty sharp, Joe.”
“Had to be,” Joe said. “I had to raise three daughters through their toughest years with only one oar, and without a rudder…my Maureen.”
“Salty talk,” Jack chuckled. “That’s what my mom always said when Dad and I started to talk like sailors.”
“Hell, you were both in the navy.”
“And you were in the coast guard.”
Joe grinned. “Best time of my life…aside from meeting Maureen and having three beautiful daughters.”
Jack watched his eyes and noticed they weren’t quite as sad as they’d been a year or so ago. “How did you cope when…” Jack couldn’t finish the question, remembering how horrible that time had been in Meg’s family’s life.