He nodded, fighting tears.
John, watching, looked over the boy’s head at Josie. He made the slightest movement with his head. Josie made an answering one.
“Okay, let’s load him up,” one of the medics said quickly. He gave a ten code that nobody among the civilians except Josie seemed to know. Her face went pale and she hugged the boy tighter. John, who also knew the ten codes, was surprised at her reaction.
His eyes went to the boy, who was visibly terrified.
“I want to go with my dad!” the child wailed.
Josie looked at John.
“We’ll all go. Does he have anybody with him?” he asked Josie.
“Do you?” she asked the child gently.
“There’s just me and Dad,” he choked, shivering. “We don’t got any family. Just us. Is my dad going to be okay?” he asked Josie plaintively.
She ground her teeth together. “They’ll do all they can,” she said.
“Are they taking Dad to the hospital? Will they let me ride in the ambulance with him?”
“You’re coming with us,” Josie said softly, looking at John, who nodded.
“Thanks, Josie,” the boy told her.
She smiled gently. “That’s JJ,” she told the tall man herding them toward a ranch pickup truck.
“Nice to... to meet you,” the boy said haltingly.
“Nice manners,” Josie said, smiling at him.
“My mom used to say that manners are what separates us from animals,” he told her. “We lost her when I was just little.”
He was still little, for his age. Josie ached for him. “I lost my mom a year ago,” she told him quietly. “I know what it’s like.”
John, listening, was surprised at her compassion for the child. It didn’t fit with the tough image she was projecting.
John opened the door and lifted the boy to the middle of the front seat.
“The law says...” Josie began.
“Come on,” he muttered. “What does it matter right now? Get in.”
He put her on the outside and closed the door. He pulled out onto the highway.
“Where are they taking him?” Josie asked. She had her seat belt on, and an arm around the boy. Where he was sitting, even if they struck something, he wouldn’t be hit by the airbag.
“Percell,” he said stiffly.
She understood what he meant. If it had been a treatable trauma, Fort Worth was the logical destination. John glanced at the young boy, so full of hope that the medics could save his father. So hopelessly uninformed. John wanted to soften the blow, but he couldn’t think of a way to do it. Josie just sat with her arm around the child, looking tormented. What an odd thing for a coldhearted prospective rustler to do, he was thinking.
They herded the boy into the hospital. Josie held him back while John went to make inquiries.
Josie looked down at the child, who was wearing patched old clothes, which were meticulously clean. His father obviously loved him very much. She held back tears.
John hesitated at the counter. He looked as if he was being tortured. Josie glanced at him. Their expressions matched.
He walked toward the boy. He drew them both toward the seats. He knelt down in front of JJ. “This is going to be rough,” he said quietly. “There are things in life, hard things, that people have to face.”
