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I give him a long look as I consider the truth of what he’s saying. “That makes sense. I’ll grab some food, and then I’ll come take over so you can, too.”

Clyde nods, and I exit the tent.

Billy and Jesse have set up their own tent, found the camping stove that Clyde bought, and have gotten it lit. A small, lidded pan is sitting on top, slowly warming up.

“What are we having?” I ask, going to sit with them and lifting the lid to peer inside.

“Stir fry, but we’ve got to cook the rice first,” Jesse says, pointing toward the open bag of food.

I rummage through, noticing some small packets of dry ingredients, some kind of sausage meat, a package of what looks like beef, a loaf of bread, and a small block of cheese. Looks like we’ll also be having sausage sandwiches for breakfast.

“Mmm, sounds good to me,” I grin as my stomach grumbles at the thought of food.

He’s moving a little stiffly, and I can see faintly where he’s bled through his bandages.

“Do you want me to cook?” I offer.

“I’m fine. Besides, it distracts me from the pain and worrying about Calla.”

“We’re going to take it in turns to watch her tonight,” I tell them.

“Good. It’s better if she always has one of us with her right now,” Billy says.

“That’s what Clyde said, too.”

The pan lid jumps a little, and Jesse dumps in a packet of quick-cook rice, stirs it with a spoon, and places the lid back on top.

“Hand me a frying pan, please, Billy,” Jesse says.

There’s a small clatter of metal as Billy rummages through the bag, then passes it to Jesse who sets it on top of the bag of food.

We sit quietly as Jesse continues cooking, and once the rice is done, he removes the pan and puts it beside him, letting it keep cooking in the hot water while the fresh pan heats up.

Soon enough, the smell of hot oil fills the air, and he dumps out the water, puts the rice into the pan with the other ingredients, and dices up some of the beef.

The sound and smell of frying food makes my mouth water, and I’m eager to dig in.

Once it’s ready, he serves it up into our small camping bowls and hands out forks. I quickly scoff it down, burning my tongue on the hot, delicious food.

“That was great,” I compliment him, and he grins. “I’d have some more, but I don’t think Clyde would be happy if I ate his share.

“There’s plenty to go around,” he laughs as he separates a portion into the lidded pan, presumably for Calla when she wakes up.

“I’ll send Clyde out,” I say.

Getting to my feet, I wander back over to our tent and head inside.

“Jesse made stir fry, I’ll take over while you go and eat.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Clyde says, giving Calla one last glance before making his way outside.

I sigh and sit down next to her, full of food and my worry for her.

Chapter Thirty

Calla

I’m lying on something soft, and I can smell the scent of my boys around me. If I didn’t remember vividly what had happened to me, I’d be able to convince myself it had all just been a horrific nightmare.