Amelia looked at him, her eyes questioning. He nodded and gestured to the Jeep. He knew he could outdraw the woman if he had to. He smiled his thanks at Jocelyn as Amelia and Joshua settled into the front seat of the Jeep. Then he swung around into the back, standing. Ready.
Jocelyn rammed the Jeep into gear and pulled a three-point turn on the sand, just out of reach of the rolling waves. “And your names are?” She smiled at the baby. “Since you’re going to be my guests and all.”
“I’m Amelia. This is Joshua. Thank you for your help.”
Jocelyn met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “And you, handsome marine?”>Or at least try for now, because he knew the faces of this entire family would haunt his sleep later.
Lieutenant Gable took the bloodied infant gently. “I’ll make note of that in her files. We’ll do our best to keep the brother and sister close to each other.”
He stepped away, his body fried from exhaustion as well as the heat. “Thanks.”
Gable hesitated for a split instant. “Did you find your friends?” she asked again.
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Sorry, sir. I’ll let you know if I hear any more from them.” She pivoted away with her patient toward a waiting transport van.
In the distance, a shout went up. “Dog on the pile.”
The call carrying on the breeze made him think of Rachel. He glanced over quickly even though he already knew it wasn’t her. Rachel was sitting off fifty yards away on a tarp, her arm wrapped around her dog, Disco, as she stared off zombielike, not even noticing the water truck stuck in a mob scene so intense the vehicle couldn’t move farther.
Without another thought, he jogged toward Rachel, his jump-worn knees creaking with each step. The closer he got to her, the more he could see how zoned out she was. The Labrador’s ears perked up, twitching in his direction. But Rachel didn’t move.
He slowed, finally stopping alongside the edge of the tarp blanket on the ground. “Are you doing okay?”
Her eyes shifted up; she snorted, then looked down again silently.
“Of course you’re not all right. No way to be here, see all of—” He gestured around them, shaking his head. “This is war-zone material.”
“Got that right.” She tugged her hat off and pitched it on the ground, thick brown ponytail unfurling down her back. “Did you find your friend?”
He winced. “Not yet.”
She looked at him, sympathy in tired eyes. “I’m sorry. I should be comforting you rather than the other way around.”
And he should be doing something, anything, except he was out of ideas other than sitting with this woman and hydrating before cranking up for the next rescue.
He dropped down beside her, tarp crackling under him. “This isn’t a game of whose life sucks most right now, especially when I look at everything folks here have lost. And the lives lost…”
He uncapped his water and drank… and drank…
Rachel’s fingers worked along Disco’s neck. “That’s a very sensitive thing to say.”
“You don’t have to act so surprised. I can be a sensitive guy, when the situation calls for it.” He gestured toward Disco. “Is there some rule again me petting your working dog?”
“He’s off the clock right now.” She half smiled. “Knock yourself out.”
He passed Rachel the rest of his water bottle and held out a hand for the dog to sniff. “Disco? Hey fella, remember me? Just a friend of Rachel’s, so don’t go postal on me, pup.” The dog nosed his fingers, so he scratched behind the Labrador’s ear. “I gotta confess, I can’t take credit for the sensitivity. My first and third exes were both into marital counseling. I may have ended up divorced, but I came away with a ton of insights.”
“Why no therapist with wife number two?” She tipped back the bottle.
“Pictures changed my mind. Lots of pictures. Of her with a number of different guys.” He’d been an idiot marrying on the rebound, not wanting to stay in his crappy-ass apartment alone. “One of those guys had a wife pissed off enough to hire a private eye. I got a complimentary photo album. Didn’t see much point going to a therapist in light of their Kama Sutra pictorial.”
“Ouch, that’s, um…” She rolled the bottle between her palms.
“No worries about me.” He leaned closer conspiratorially. “I didn’t pick up any diseases from my ex.”
“This isn’t funny, and that wasn’t what I was thinking.” Her voice was tart, but her eyes were sweet.