Chapter 20

The lights of Albuquerque shone out the jet's window as they swung around to the west of the airport to land on the longer east-west runway. Cowboy watched intently. Sitting next to him, Ella checked his lap seat belt. Across the aisle sat Tank and Bobby, who was closing his cell phone. "She just entered recovery. She will be there for at least two hours."

Tank received the news stoically, "That' good." Phew, she had survived the surgery. One step at a time, he thought. On the flight, he contemplated what it would be like to raise his son without the mother. He brought the idea up with her a year ago, and she did make the necessary legal steps if the need arose. He prayed the demand was not at hand.

Bobby continued, "The car rental shuttle will meet us at the plane. The hotel is close. We can check in before we leave for the hospital. I've cleared Cowboy for a few short visits in the ICU. Normally that's a kids-free zone."

Before disembarking, the pilot took Tank aside. "I'm off to Dallas. Call when you need a ride. I hope things work out." Tank thanked him, shook his hand, and headed out to meet the waiting shuttle bus.

"Before we get started, your reservation is complete. I will take you directly to your car. The hotel is just north of the airport. It will be a short trip," the van driver explained. "When you leave the rental lot, turn left and follow the road until you come to University boulevard. It's about two miles. The hotel is on the right."

Once they were in their rental Explorer winding their way out of the parking lots, Bobby pointed out the window, "That's our hotel." It was a twelve-story hotel on a hill with only two-story buildings surrounding it.

"What about Mama? Can't we go see her?" Cowboy asked in a voice filled with concern.

"The hospital said she would be sleeping for a while."

"Can we still see her tonight?"

"After we check-in and eat."

The boy looked desperate, "But…"

Bobby spoke up, "Cowboy, your mother has been in surgery for five hours. She has a head injury that prevents her from waking up. It will be a long time before she's awake."

"Will she die?" he asked with a trembling voice.

Tank answered, "It's not for us to know, son. Only God and the doctors know."

As they entered the hotel, Tank asked Cowboy, "Do you want to sleep with Bobby and me or with Ella."

Cowboy looked around, "Why can't Ella sleep with us."

"Ladies need their privacy."

Looking at Ella, Cowboy said, "Is it ok if I sleep with Papa tonight?" Cowboy's early years were sleeping with his mother close if not in his bed. Only recently had he learned to sleep alone in his room.

Ella smiled and hugged the little boy, "Of course. Call me if you need me."

Cowboy didn't have much of an appetite and settled for soup. Ella ordered a cheese sandwich and wrapped it in case he got hungry later. It was time to go to the hospital.

Accommodations were made for the young boy to see his mother in ICU. Bobby explained all the machines the young boy would see hooked to his mother. "Pierre, there will be machines that help her breathe and those that monitor her heart rate and blood pressure. There will also be a monitor to track her brain activity. Bags containing fluids and maybe blood plasma will be hooked to her arms. She is in a coma. It is where the body shuts its self off, like a deep sleep, while it is trying to heal itself."

"Will she be able to hear me?"

"Maybe. Medical science isn't sure. It would help if you talked to her in case she can hear you. I'm sure she would appreciate it."

The little boy donned a cap and mask and a cover that came nearly to his feet after thoroughly washing his hands and arms. Booties covered his shoes. Then Tank led him into the cubicle. Ella opted to remain in the hall as there wasn't enough room inside.

Tank lifted his son to look at his mother. Cowboy looked at that the machines and asked, "Which one is for her heart?"

Bobby pointed to the monitor and went on to explain the other machines.

"What's the bag on the floor?"

Bobby sighed to himself. The boy would notice that. "It's a urine bag. There is a tube in her bladder to empty the urine since she can't control it when she is in a coma."

"But it's bloody," the boy observed with a trembling voice.

"Your mother had internal injuries, plus she has had surgery. In time the blood should stop." Bobby knew there might be some kidney or bladder damage.

Cowboy watched the monitor and looked at his mother. "Mama, Dad, and I are here with you. Dr. Bobby and Ella are also here. Please get better. I can't stay here very long, but Dad or Dr. Bobby will be with you. You won't be alone."

"Do you want to touch her?" Tank asked.

"Can I kiss her?"

"Yes, and then you can hold her hand for a few minutes."

The boy leaned over and kissed his mother below her eye. Then Tank sat next to her hand, and the boy reached out and lightly grabbed it. Bobby stepped outside. A tear was threatening to fall.

When he got outside the door, he looked up, keeping the tear from falling. "That is one tough little boy, Ella."

"Is she going to make it?" the little Latino woman asked.

"I don't know. Her legs are badly fractured. She hit her head on something. She has a bad concussion, brain bleed, and possibly other injuries."

When the nurse came in to tell Tank the boy had to leave, Cowboy didn't argue. He had held himself together, remarkable for such as a young child. When father and son left the room, Bobby said, "I'll stay here until morning. Then we can switch places, and I'll sleep at the hotel."

Ella spoke up, "Fit me into the rota. Twelve-hour shifts are too long for one person."

While they were working out the rotation, Rain's doctor appeared. "Which one is Dr. Brown?"

Bobby stepped forward, "I'm Bobby Brown."

The doctor motioned Bobby down the hall. Handing him Rain's written chart, Bobby read through it, pausing and looking up? "She's pregnant?"

The doctor nodded. "We test female patients coming in. We had to modify anesthesia and pain meds. Amazingly, the impact did not cause a miscarriage, yet."

Bobby looked down again. "The majority of my patients are male. I'm not up to date on HGC levels. Do you know how far along she is?"

"Do you know the father?"

"He is the large man over there. I'll get him."

The doctor, all 5'9," was impressed Dr. Brown at 6'2" called someone else more significant. He had to hold his blank face when Tank appeared. The man wasn't large, he was massive.

Tank joined Bobby. When the doctor explained the situation and asked Tank for a possible conception date, Tank knew they had been intimate for only one night. Tank thought back to the approximate date, "She might be six or seven weeks. She never said anything."

"She probably didn't know for sure until a week ago." What the doctor thought, though, was her HGC levels were too high for six or seven weeks.

"I want to warn you, due to the impact, she could still miscarry. We will continue to do external exams and blood tests for a while. It's too early for more ultrasound."

For the five days Tank, Bobby and Ella rotated sitting with Rain. Cowboy came twice a day for the precious five minutes, which the nursing staff extended to ten and fifteen as they saw the boy was not getting emotional. During his visits, he told his mother about school, gymnastics, catechism, and his friends at Rangeman. Each time he left the hospital, he was further convinced his mother would be OK. At least someone was optimistic.

Away from the hospital, Ella worked with him to keep his mind busy. They did his catechism, visited cultural sites such as museums and the various cultural centers; Indian, Hispanic, African American, and Chinese. They took in the zoo, botanic garden, and Nature Center, watching the birds along the river.

When Tank or Bobby was with him, they did more physical activities. It was past soccer season, but they kicked a ball around the park or worked on their martial arts. They even took in several movies. A treat Rain could not afford.

"What do you want for dinner, Cowboy?" Bobby asked as they left the movie theater.

"Greek food."

"Your mother and father are from Lousiana. Are you sure you don't want Cajun food? Or New Mexican food?"

The boy shook his head, no. The boy had no concept of comfort food, he knew when he was feeling down or wanting to celebrate, he wanted Greek food.

"I think I saw a Greek place around the corner. Let's go see," Ella added.

At the restaurant, the waiter looked at the adults for their order and assumed they would order for the boy. Cowboy spoked up and asked, "Thétete to sankanáki sti fotiá?" (do you set the saganaki on fire?)

The waiter looked at the African-American child with Ella and Bobby and held up his finger. He caught the word for cheese. "Hold on," the blonde, blue-eyed waiter said.

A moment later, an older man came to the table. He was confused. Two African and a Hispanic speaking Greek was something new. "Kaló apógevma. Eímai o Spýros Kállas, o idioktítis. Pós boró na sas voithíso" (Good evening. I'm Sprios Callas. How may I help you?)

Bobby nodded to Cowboy.

Cowboy repeated his question.

"Óchi, i fotiá den to apagorévei." (No, the fire marshall prohibits it.) Mr. Callas replied.

Cowboy looked rejected. "Darn it. I can't say Opa."

Ella and Bobby chuckled. Mr. Callas, the restaurant owner, was not expecting the boy's English outburst. "Young man, where did you learn to speak Greek?"

"My Mama was in the Army, and we were in Germany. My favorite restaurant was Greek. Mr. Petropoulos helped me."

"Do you speak other languages?"

"My friends, Abuela Ella and Abuelo Luis are helping me with Spanish, I'm taking French in school, plus I learned some German. My father said he'd teach me Russian someday."

"How old are you?"

"I'm eight," Cowboy replied proudly. Bobby muttered, "Going on 30."

"Are you his father?" Mr. Callas asked.

"No, his father is with his mother at UNM hospital," Bobby answered.

Mr. Callas saw the expression on Ella's face and surmised the news was not good. His sympathies were brief. "Young man, do you like Greek food?"

Cowboy's face brightens, "Yes, sir! My mama makes Greek food for me and Dad, I mean for Dad and me."

"What do you like the best?" the older man asked.

"Dad and I like salads with feta, I like lamb and chicken, pastichio, moussaka, and domathes. Lots of domathes. I like potatoes, and…"

Mr. Callas chuckled, "Let me rephrase the question. Is there anything you don't like?"

Cowboy scowled, "Kokoretsi."

The old man nodded, "Don't worry. We don't serve it here."

After wishing everyone a good meal, the owner faded away.

Ella asked Cowboy, "What is kokoretsi?"

Cowboy looked down and mumbled, "Lamb insides."

"Like liver?" his abuela asked.

Cowboy nodded, "And other things."

After the three finished their dinners, the waiter reported their meals were complimentary of the owner. When Cowboy heard, he asked the waiter to thank the owner in Greek.

The blond, blue-eyed waiter said, "I don't speak Greek."

Cowboy beamed, "I'll teach you. Say Ef har ri sto. F-Harry eats stone, but don't say eats."

Ella and Bobby started laughing. The waiter shrugged, "I'll try."

Bobby whispered to Ella, "I'd pay to hear the waiter say that to Mr. Callas. I hope he doesn't get fired."

Before they could leave, they heard a laugh from behind the kitchen. Soon Mr. Callas caught up with the trio before they could leave the restaurant. "Young man, I don't think I am going to stop laughing the rest of the day. Thank you. Maybe you can come back and teach my staff Greek."

Cowboy beamed. "OK, Kýrie, sas efcharistó gia to deípno," Cowboy replied. (Sir, thank you for dinner.)

-0-

After the first week, Rain was not getting worse and was showing signs of improving. She still wasn't conscious, but there were no infections, and her heart rate was leveling out. She moved out of ICU. "I think we are through the critical period, Tank," Bobby said. "I can head back now with Ella and Cowboy. The boy can't be staying around a hospital all the time."

Tank agreed. Though Cowboy was reluctant, he understood there was nothing he could do here. "Son, I'm staying here with your Mama. She is getting better. I will call every day and talk on the computer as much as possible."

"Are you coming home for Christmas?" It was days away.

"What do you think I should do?" The big man asked. He knew he needed to stay with Rain but wanted the boy to participate in the decision.

Cowboy thought a minute, "You should stay here with Mama. I can sing her Christmas carols over the computer or phone."

Tank glanced at Ella, who had tears running down her face. Only once had Cowboy broken down and cried. It was after the initial visit when he saw his mother surrounded by machines. On the way back to the hotel this time, he again broke down in Ella's arms.

Tank spent 18 hours a day with Rain. Now that she was in a private room, Tank had more room to extend his legs. While he sat with her, he had his laptop and could work on Rangeman business. As Tank gazed at his son's mother, he realized how important she had become in his life. A year ago, he felt warm and fuzzy at Christmas in Germany when he was near her. Now he needed to make him part of their life no matter what it would take. This was not his son's mother, and this was a woman he wanted and needed to fulfill his life. In return, he hoped she felt the same way about him. Instinctively Tank knew she and he needed each other to heal past emotional wounds. In the meantime, he would be there to help her with these physical injuries, pregnancy, and child-rearing. If it meant leaving Rangeman, he would do it.

Christmas in Trenton was a bit more subdued. The whole staff was worried about their little brother's mother. What should be a joyous time of year filled with joy was filled with worry. Bobby's and Cowboy's return brought back the spark.

Somewhere along the way, Stephanie finally saw Cowboy in the building helping Ella. She recognized him as the boy with Tank at Pino's weeks before.

Knocking on Ranger's office door, Ranger answered. Stephanie and sat in a guest chair. "Ranger, I saw a young boy with Ella. Who is he?"

Ranger sighed and sat back. "Close the door, Babe. What I'm about to tell you is to be kept confidential. Do you understand? Nobody outside of Rangeman must know."

"OK," Stephanie began. "What you tell me is not for discussion anywhere outside of Rangeman."

"The boy is Tank's eight-year-old son. Tank didn't know he had a son until 18 months ago. The boy's mother is recently separated from the Army and is now looking for a job. She has advanced degrees in aeronautics, not something we do here at Rangeman or anywhere nearby. She was on a job interview in New Mexico and seriously injured in an auto accident. Tank is with her. Ella and Luis are taking care of the boy."

"Will the mother be alright?"

"She is still in a coma from a serious head injury and multiple fractures."

Stephanie thought back to her summer work at Rangeman. "When I worked her last summer and Tank went on vacation, was it to meet his son?"

"Yes."

"Are they married?"

"Tank wants to be, but Rain refuses to live in Trenton."

"Because she can't get a job?"

"Babe, remember last Spring and the Lula incident in the hospital?"

Stephanie got a glazed look as she replayed the incident in her mind.

"The woman Lula shot, and the one you were rude to, was Rain."

"That was her?" Suddenly Stephanie was reliving the incident. "How was I rude?"

"Babe, to begin with, you allowed Lula to carry on in the hospital lobby while she confronted the woman and the boy. Lula was quite derogatory towards the woman. Instead of calming Lula down immediately, you let her wind up. When you finally came over, you dismissed the woman as a nothing, not worth Lula's time."

"I did?"

"Several people nearby heard you. Then when the woman attempted to leave, Lula shot her. It was fortunate the boy wasn't hit also."

Stephanie's face was ashen. "I remember the gun going off, twice, but I didn't realize anyone was hit. What happened to her?"

"She tended her wound until she got back to Germany. The whole incident was so upsetting, she wrote Tank and said she was revoking all visitation rights."

Stephanie sat back, "That's why he chewed the men and me a new one when he got back. But he later apologized."

"Remember, he was still in pain from the leg wound. Plus, he was crushed not to see his son anymore."

"Fuck."

"He went back to Germany, spending most of the summer there, trying to smooth things over. He wants them to become a family."

"Except she refuses to live here."

"Yeah. There's something else. She remembers you and Lula. She and the boy don't want to see you again. It was a traumatic event in the boy's life. The boy is living with Luis and Ella while Tank is away. The men play and exercise with him in the gym."

"But I need to apologize," Stephanie said.

I suggest you wait to apologize until Tank is with him. If he sees you, he might become upset."

-0-

"Hey Cowboy, want to go out for lunch?" Bink asked.

"Sure! I'm always hungry."

"I've noticed. Where do you put it all?"

"I'm growing. I have a long way to go to catch up to Dad."

"Where do you want to go? Pino's?"

"Nah, can we go to Gyro Express?"

"Huh?"

"They have falafels," the little boy said. "They can put them on a salad."

Bink must have made a face because the boy continued, "Don't you like falafels?"

Bink shook his head no. "They remind me of Afghanistan."

"They also have gyros in either lamb or chicken…or falafel," the boy giggled at the end.

Bink finally agreed, "OK falafels and salad for you. Are you sure you aren't related to Ranger?"

At that minute, Ranger came through the door, "What about me?"

Before Bink could deflect, Cowboy popped up, "We are going to lunch, salad, and falafels. Do you want to come?"

Ranger was amused. Looking down at the boy, he asked, "Are you paying?"

Cowboy instantly deflated, "I haven't gotten my allowance since Mama left. Abuela and Abuelo pay me for helping them. but it isn't enough to buy everyone lunch."

A quick mood change was in order. Ranger looked at the men on Five and said, "Cowboy is buying lunch. We are going to falafels."

Bink quickly added, "And gyros" knowing several other men had a strong reaction to chickpeas either in falafels or hummus after serving in the Middle East.

Cowboy looked panicked, "I don't have enough money!"

Ranger leaned over and whispered, "I've got it, don't worry."

Several men on their way to the break room for lunch sandwiches detoured to where Cowboy stood. "Sure, Little Tank," I'm always up for Gyros," Woody drawled purposely mispronouncing gyros to make it sound like the first half of the word gyroscope.

Cowboy stiffened, "The proper pronunciation is "ghero," not GY-ro."

Woody smiled, "Just messin' with you Little Tank."

Cowboy beamed with his new nickname.

After attending the late Christmas Eve mass with Ella and Luis, Cowboy was with Hector in Tank's office video chatting with his father. When Tank moved the screen closer to Rain, the boy began singing his mother's favorite carols. The floor nurse heard the singing late at night and came into Rain's room. When she saw the massive man wiping tears from his eyes, she withdrew, giving him privacy. She, too, wiped a tear from her eye as she left.

Christmas Day, Ella and Luis took Cowboy to the Manoso-Santos family holiday. Ranger was working until 3 pm and would come later. As the son of Tank, or Pierre, the name the Manosos preferred for the big guy, the little boy became the center of attention. Cowboy was hesitant to play with other children, preferring to stick close to Luis. Ella had been whisked into the kitchen with the other women. It wasn't until Ranger and Lester appeared, did the boy begin to mingle. His father had shared stories about his Army times with Ranger and Lester. Both men were warming up to the miniature Tank, as was the Manoso family.

Ranger's abuela took Ranger aside, "Again, you come without your woman, Estefania."

"Mama, she is not my woman."

Cuffing her grandson on the back of the head, she scolded, "Eres demasiado estúpido para abrir tu corazón. No puedes ser un soldado para siempre." (You are too stupid to open your heart. You cannot be a soldier forever.)

It was bad enough Babe's father was after him to step up, but now his grandmother and probably mother if she got the chance. "Tengo miedo de casarme," he whispered. (I'm afraid to marry.)

"La has amado durante años. Es hora de ser un hombre." (You have loved her for years. It is time to be a man.)

"Sé que sé" (I know, I know) Ranger answered.

Christmas Day night after the Manoso meal, Cowboy was again video chatting with his father, this time with Ranger sitting close by. The little boy looked at Ranger for support and then started singing Blanca Navidad, White Christmas, in Spanish. Ranger was watching the computer screen and thought he saw increased eye movement in Rain's eyes. It wasn't until Cowboy took out a piece of paper and started reading one of the many versions of "Cajun Night Before Christmas" did Ranger see definite movement.

Rain had always made a point of not speaking in a Cajun accent with her son and asked Tank not to as well. Yet as Cowboy slurring his words, mispronouncing, and ignoring language rules to read the poem about St. Nick and the alligators in the bayou,

Tank soon noticed facial movement. By the time the boy finished, about 5 minutes later, Rain had a scowl on her face and trying to move her head. She was intubated, and her head was restricted. Tank saw her face and encouraged Cowboy to call to her.

"Mama, wake up, please. Mama, it is Christmas."

"Keep calling to her," Ranger urged.

"Mama, wake up. It's Christmas. It's snowing! Mama, can I go outside and play in the snow? We could make snow castles. Wake up, Mama."

Rain opened only one eye. She stared, barely moving her eye. Tank called for the nurse.

The little boy was getting excited, "Mama, wake up, it's Christmas!

Her heart rate was increasing as if she could hear something but was confused. She was becoming agitated. "Rain," the nurse began, "Settle down. You are in a hospital. Your son is fine, unhurt."

"Her son's name is Cowboy or Pierre," Tank whispered to the nurse.

Rain found where the voice was coming from and looked at the face. The nurse repeated herself. "Rain," the nurse said again, "Cowboy is fine."

Rain began blinking her one eye like she was trying to focus or understand.

The nurse moved the bed table down towards Rain's feet. A doctor came in and started talking to her. Pulling out a flashlight, he shined it in her eyes, opening the closed one. She tracked the light with her right eye, not her left.

"Rain, you have a tube down your throat. Blink twice if you want me to remove it." Rain blinked twice. Once the tube was out of her throat, the doctor and nurse monitored her breathing and heart rate. Both were evening out more. The doctor took the water glass and straw and held it to her lips. "Sip, one sip."

Rain struggled to open her mouth but got the straw in. The doctor watched to see if she could swallow. It took a while, but she did.

The doctor glanced at the laptop. "Have her son call to her," the doctor mumbled quietly.

Tank turned to the computer, "Cowboy, do you have something to say to your mother?"

"Merry Christmas, Mama!"

Rain grunted a throaty grunt.

The doctor shook his head in approval. "That's good enough for now."

The doctor squeezed her right hand, and she reacted. When he pressed her left, there was no reaction. Tank groaned silently. Did Rain have a stroke? Was there brain damage?

Looking at the laptop screen, the doctor said, "Son, your mother needs to rest. You can talk to her again tomorrow."

"Will she be alright?" Cowboy asked, his voice filled with hope.

"It's going to take time, but she is awake now. That's good."

Bobby stepped into the office when Ranger messaged him. He stood behind Cowboy, watching what was happening in New Mexico. Bobby leaned over and whispered something to Cowboy and the boy shook his head and left. Once the door shut, Bobby turned back to the screen, "Doctor, this is Bobby Brown. I'd like to ask you about her condition."

Ella was outside Ranger's office. "Ella, Mama, is awake!" the little boy said loudly! The few Rangemen on duty also heard the boy and sighed with relief.

Ranger stepped out, "Bobby is conferring with the doctor." Only Bobby and Tank knew about Rain's pregnancy.

The doctor motioned for Tank to join him in the hall. "Dr. Brown, I'm sure you noticed the nonresponse on the left side. It is too early to tell if this is a permanent situation. I would like to do more imaging, but her HGC levels continue to climb. I am hesitant."

Bobby shook his head, "I can't believe she is still pregnant."

The doctor continued, "You mentioned most if not all your patients were male, then you are probably not up on HGC levels for various stages of gestation."

"No sir," Bobby chuckled. "OBGYN rotation was a while ago."

"I admit, I was a bit rusty too. I've consulted our staff OB-GYN, and we are growing concerned this may be a multiple pregnancy."

"How badly will this impact her recovery?

"We aren't sure. One option is to end the pregnancies," the doctor began, "But seeing as both Ms. Massenet and Mr. Sherman are Catholic, and he has his rosary at hand," the doctor said, glancing at Tank. " I'm hesitant to suggest that." The doctor didn't mention Tank had growled when he heard the suggestion.

The doctor looked at Tank. The doctor saw the exhaustion in the man's eyes with a light frosting of hope. The doctor decided to put off any additional brain scans and possibly end the pregnancies until the man has had a chance to sleep. "I think we can wait for a few days."

Bobby emerged from Ranger's office and noticed Ella and Cowboy were gone, no doubt to bed. It was nearing 2400 hours. Bobby beckoned Ranger back into the office and shut the door. "I talked with the doctor and Tank. What I have to tell you is to remain private. It's too early to be definite. She may have had a stroke."

"Can't they do an X-ray?"

Bobby sighed, "There's an overriding factor. She is pregnant, maybe with multiples. The doctors are hesitant to expose her to more radiation."

"Did they know when they took the initial X-rays?" Ranger asked.

"Yes. They trussed her in lead shielding. The team of doctors, neurosurgeons, orthopedic, and OB-GYN will confer tomorrow. One option is to end the pregnancy."

"That would kill Tank."

"Yeah, and probably Rain. She spent three years living in a convent."

"She was a nun?"

"No, she was an orphan, and the parish didn't have facilities for her. The sisters looked after her."

Ranger scowled, "There's more to the story."

"And it is not for me to share. I've said enough," Bobby replied. "As to the immediate future, it's too early to be planning to move her back here. But I'm going to look at places. She is not ready for at-home care for weeks or months."

By New Year, Rain showed improvement. She could open both eyes and track them together. Her left arm was weak but showing a reaction to the stimulus. Her speech was improving each day, but it still was not clear.

She had no memory of the accident or much about the day in general. Unfortunately, her stomach was bothering her, and she could not eat. Tank tried feeding her small meals, even just dry toast. Nothing worked. Rain blamed the drugs. It wasn't until the doctor came in did she learn the cause.

"Rain, I'm doctor Sheila Livingstone, an OB-GYN. I've come to explain why you are nauseous."

Rain glanced at Tank with opened eyes and back to the doctor with fear on her face. "Pease nuu," she mumbled.

The doctor moved forward, "You are pregnant. From what Tank has said, we estimate the pregnancy is eight to nine weeks along. It explains your nausea."

She looks at Tank with a panic expression. While her mind was trying to understand what was happening, a nurse entered, pushing a machine. Tank didn't recognize it.

"It is important we determine the health and extent of your pregnancy. Since you are only a few weeks along, we will have to do a transvaginal image sonogram. Are you familiar with that?" the nursed asked Tank and Rain.

Rain looked blank and didn't respond. The doctor thought Rain didn't understand.

"Mr. Sherman, do you wish to remain or leave. The procedure puts off most men."

Tank repeated "transvaginal" to himself and hadn't decided until he saw the pleading look on Rain's face. "I'm staying."

"Rain, we will work around your leg fractures. If you experience any pain, let us know immediately."

The doctor explained the transducer and how it would go into the vagina. Rain showed no emotion as the device entered, concentrating on Tank's face. He glanced between her and the doctor, trying to ignore the rod stuck up Rain's vagina. When the doctor revealed a small smile, she turned the monitor towards them.

Tank gasped, immediately recognizing two distinct fetuses. His eyes opened wider for a moment, "Two?" he whispered.

The doctor nodded but then noticed Rain's expression. "You are pregnant with twins, 9 weeks along. Both look fine. There are no signs of rupture." Once the scan was complete, the nurse left. Next, the doctor asked Rain about her feelings.

A tear slid down Rain's face. The doctor didn't know if it was fear or joy. Tank suspected a third option. A pregnancy would end her dreams.

"You are otherwise in excellent health, Rain. The demands on your body to mend and still nurture two fetuses will be great. There are possibilities of blood clots from the fractures and your brain injury, but you have been on anti-coagulants since surgery. The type used is not known to cross the placental barrier. Your diet must be exemplary. With frequent exams and lab workups, along with specialized physical therapy, you should do fine. However, you may not be able to walk freely until after delivery. There is another alternative, end the pregnancies now and concentrate on your legs." The doctor didn't know if Rain understood.

Rain shut her eyes tightly and heard Tank say, "Rain and I need to talk."

The doctor nodded, but still not sure her patient was cognisant. "I understand. I stop by later."

As the door shut, Rain looked back at Tank. She wanted to scream at him for not immediately rejecting aborting the pregnancy but couldn't. Her brain-to-mouth pathway remained clogged.

Raising his hand as if to stop her thoughts, "Within the hour of our arrival here, the doctor told me your elevated HGC levels indicating pregnancy. The doctors did a quick vaginal exam as best they could look for signs of spontaneous miscarriage. There was and has been none. Every day I've prayed for this pregnancy. I don't want to see it end, but if it came down to saving your life, Cowboy's mother, I would have given permission, but it would have killed me." He took Rain's hand, "I am scared to death about you, the babies, and Cowboy. I don't want to lose any of you. You are my heart, my family." Tank's eyes began to glisten. "It is ultimately your decision, but I need to understand what you would want if this all goes wrong and your life is in danger."

Rain put her head back and thought. She needed to be able to speak clearly but couldn't. Tank watched her knowing she understood but couldn't talk.

Tank began, "Do you want to end the pregnancies?"

Rain shook her head no, though pain shot through her head.

Tank continued, "If it comes down to your life for the babies, will you allow an abortion?"

Again Rain shook her head no.

"Would you hate me if I went against your wishes?" He prayed she would repeat no, but she shook her head, yes. Her religious and spiritual beliefs prevented any other choice.

Tank whispered, "You are a powerful woman, Rain Massenet. If something happens to you, now I will love and raise Pierre-Ti."

She squeezed his hand, her best way to communicate clearly. Too much was happening around her, she was confused. Tank leaned over and kissed her, "Sleep, mon Cher. I'm not going anywhere."

Watching her fall asleep, he realized how alone she must feel. She had a son and no way to care for him. She was not employed, and now she was facing a long rehabilitation and a pregnancy. Thank the Lord they had found each other.