He nodded drunkenly and looked up, seeming to start in surprise. ‘Mum. Why are you here?’
‘I’m looking after my boy. Where else would I be?’
‘I’m okay.’
‘Yes, you will be.’
As Barb held the bathroom door open, Prita said, ‘We need to get some fluids in him—some juice would be good as well as water.’
‘I’ll get it.’ Barb rushed back up the hall towards the kitchen.
‘Do you want me to undress him?’ Reid asked as they staggered inside. ‘You could go out and help Mum.’
She understood what Reid was asking, but she’d seen Flynn naked and wasn’t shying away from that now. ‘The faster we get him into the bath, the better for him.’
‘Wouldn’t the shower be quicker?’
‘It would, but I need to get him off that knee and have a look at it too.’
‘Okay.’
They lowered Flynn to the stool in the corner. Prita turned the cold tap on in the bath and then together, they undressed Flynn to his underwear. Everything was dripping wet with sweat, but his skin was dry and the heat that radiated from him was scorching. It wasn’t a good sign. She might still have to call the air ambulance if they couldn’t get him cooled and hydrated quickly. ‘Let’s get him into the bath.’
‘Okay.’
Reid bent and lifted Flynn over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, then, muscles straining, lowered Flynn into the still filling bath with incredible gentleness. She’d known Reid was fit from all his rock climbing and x-sports TV show, but Flynn was taller and wider across the shoulders, more heavily muscled than Reid was, yet Reid had picked him up and placed him down as gently as a baby. The strength it took for Reid to do that was extraordinary. Almost superhuman. She knew what he’d gone through over a year ago when he’d come back home, but it came to her now that his strength wasn’t just in body, it was in soul.
That kind of strength was a family trait. Flynn had it in spades. It was both good and bad. She hoped Flynn could work it into something good. Something that could help him face his trauma rather than hide from it.
Reid glanced at her as he sat back on his haunches and swished the water over Flynn’s dirty, hot body. ‘He’s not okay, is he?’ From the look on Reid’s face, she knew he wasn’t talking about the physical issue in front of them. ‘What can we do to help?’
It hit her anew how lucky they all were to have family like that—people who knew you inside and out and would do anything for you. Her eyes prickled and she rubbed the threatening tears away and knelt to help Reid swish the water over Flynn until the tub filled enough to cover him. ‘That is a bigger question I can’t answer right now.’
‘But you can help him?’
‘I don’t know. Not if he doesn’t want to be helped.’
‘I get that.’ His gaze met hers and it was agonising. He’d obviously been aware his uncle—more brother and best friend than uncle—was in pain, but despite everything he’d tried to do since coming back, he’d been unable to help Flynn through the trauma he still held onto with an iron grip.
She touched Reid’s arm. ‘For now, let’s just face what’s in front of us. The rest can wait.’
He nodded and stared down at the water, then began to cup his hands to wet down Flynn’s hair. ‘Cool him down and hydrate him.’
‘Yes. If I had a saline drip, that would help too.’ A stupid wish given she’d lost all her stocks in the fire and was waiting for the order she’d put in just that morning to be delivered later in the week. ‘But for now, we’ll work with what we’ve got.’
‘We’ve got that.’
She shot him a surprised look.
‘Flynn took to heart what you said last year in that talk you gave about being so far away from proper medical treatment and did a full stock up and made it mandatory that everyone working here did our first aid and CPR. I already had mine, plus some field training I did with an army unit, so I know how to put in a canula and start a drip and a few other basics. I have a bunch of stuff here that I was going to bring down to the cottage today as a surprise for your opening tomorrow.’
‘You have saline?’
‘Yep. When Nat comes back, I’ll go get it.’
‘You’re a godsend.’
He looked down at Flynn who was looking more restful, eyes closed, lids looking strangely purple-translucent in the half-light coming in through the closed bathroom shutters, his five o’clock shadow dark against his pale skin. ‘Flynn’s the godsend.’
‘Yes. He is.’
‘He thinks that about you too.’
She made a little snorty noise and his gaze rose to hers, curious. ‘I’m not sure he does.’
‘If you believe that, you’ve got rocks in your head. He loves you. Everyone with eyes can see it.’
‘He can’t. He doesn’t want to.’
His head dipped down and he stared at his uncle. ‘I know trauma. I shoved mine away for as long as I could, too afraid to do anything about addressing it. Nat was the one who helped me to see what I was doing was self-destructive and ruining everything I’d ever wanted in my life. I’m not saying you and Flynn are the same, but you’ve both got trauma in your past and I think you both need to deal with it. Maybe you could help each other do just that.’
She stared at him then chuckled. ‘Since when did you become Dr Phil?’
He snorted. ‘Dr Phil has nothing on me.’
‘No, he’s less pushy.’
He winked. ‘Pushiness is a Findlay/Stratton trait.’
‘I’ve noticed that.’
‘We’re also good at holding close those we care about.’ He put his hand over hers, stopping her so that her fingers brushed over Flynn’s wide shoulder, the skin hot—not as hot as
