Page 71 of Tormented Hearts

While that was horrific and she didn’t want to see the man die, she didn’t have ties to him the way she did Hawk.

She nodded at Bella, but all her attention was fixed on the man lying wounded on the other side of the room.

“Stabilizing.”

She caught the word and grasped the edge of the gurney.

Just then the door opened again and a small girl slipped in—hair in two crooked pigtails, a backpack slung over one shoulder.

Rhae made a low noise and rushed forward.

Denver burst past the curtain, moving fast to intercept her. “Navy, baby, maybe you should—”

“I want to see.” Navy was already crossing the room to Hawk like she owned the place.

Denver crouched in front of his daughter, studying her face carefully, the way a father studied a child for signs of fear he didn’t want her carrying. “We need to let Dr. Hitchcock help Hawk.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “I’m not scared, Daddy.”

Rhae crouched next to her family, watching the exchange. From this angle, Sinead couldn’t see Hawk, but Rhae looked that direction and gave a small nod. “If she’s okay, she can stay on this side of the curtain with me.”

Sinead took in the dynamics. The trust and the way this family let a little girl decide for herself whether she could handle hard things.

And she felt her aching chest crack open wider with affection for all of them.

Denver gave Navy a small pat on her back and released her.

She immediately grabbed the curtain and tugged it aside.

“Navy—” Rhae took a swift step forward to stop her.

“She needs to see him, Mom. They’re friends.”

More than friends.

Sinead’s throat thickened as she shifted her gaze from the child who was wise beyond her years to the man lying on the gurney.

Hawk was on his side, facing her. A sheet was erected over his body, leaving only his head and shoulders free.

A man in full surgeon’s gear was working on the wound along his side. And Hawk’s eyes opened when Navy marched right up to the gurney like she’d done this a hundred times before. She unzipped her little backpack with the focus of someone conducting very serious business.

She produced a lollipop and placed it by Hawk’s shoulder. “For being brave,” she informed him.

“That’s one heck of a combat nurse,” Dr. Hitchcock’s statement came muffled from behind his mask.

Hawk, pale and clearly in pain, still managed a small smile. “Much appreciated.”

She dug deeper into her bag and produced a box of bandages, studying her options with real deliberation before selecting one. “Not the pony one. You get the superhero.” She pressed it carefully on his arm, patting it once. “I’m not gonna kiss it, though. Germs.”

“Wise policy,” Hawk rasped.

Satisfied, Navy turned and marched over to Sinead’s gurney next. She dug out a sticker—a bright gold star—and pressed it onto the back of Sinead’s hand with great ceremony.

Her gray eyes fixed on Sinead’s face. “For being brave too.”

Her throat went tight. “I don’t feel very brave right now, sweetheart.”

She considered that for a moment. “Then the sticker will make you brave. That’s how it works.”