Page 21 of Surge
Delaney waved at Dad. “It’s ready,” she shouted, holding the controller.
Dad waved back. “All right. Let’s do it!”
She turned the winch back on. Very slowly.
He hit the accelerator, spewing mud again.
“Ease up on the gas, Dad!”
“Not sure any slower will get us out of here, but I’ll try!”
The 4x4 started moving forward and slowly made it out of the mudhole. Which was now red with power steering fluid.
Dad hit the brake as she walked up to his window again. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Power fluid in the mud. Enough it looks like blood.”
“Well, that’s that.” Dad steered the Jeep up to the dryish part of the trail and pulled over. He got out and sat down on a large cypress stump. Took off his prosthetic leg.
“You’re always adjusting that leg of yours . . .” This was her opening . . . but she just wasn’t ready for that convo yet.
“I know, right?”
Delaney leaned into the Jeep for Surge’s collapsible silicon water bowl and her five-gallon water bottle. She poured some for him, and he slurped the water bowl dry, so she poured him some more.
Dad buckled the prosthetic in place and tapped it hard. “It works, though, and that’s what matters.”
“Yeah, it works, but you’d do a lot better with a new titanium prosthesis.”
“You keep bringing that up.” He smiled gently at her, then sighed. “You’re right. The titanium leg would be a significant improvement, but they’re expensive, and this leg is fine for me.”
But guilt harangued her, even after all these years. “If I’d stood up to that robber in our family store before he shot out your leg . . .” Her eyes burned at the memory. “If I’d run out to call 911, get a police officer. But did I?” She huffed. “No, I just hid in the next aisle.”
And she was going on a mission? What had possessed her? Probably more than a little anger at the SEAL who basically insinuated she couldn’t hack it because she was a woman.
“You know what I would say to that, Delaney.”
“‘You were only eight back then.’” She quoted him.
“That’s right. You’ve got to let this go. Losing my leg was not on you—it’s on the guy who shot me.”
Didn’t matter. She could’ve stepped in. Should’ve. She hadn’t been help back then, but she would be now. She dove back under the 4x4 and shone her phone flashlight around. “Found the leak! You got duct tape, don’t you?”
“You know I do.”
She got out from under the Jeep.
He handed it to her. “Anyway, this leg will last at least two more years before it qualifies for replacement with the insurance company. But not with the pricier model.”
“Even if it’d be better, help reduce risk of infection and additional surgeries.” Man, it just ate her lunch. Watching Dad struggle with his prosthetic leg gave her a sinking feeling in her stomach. Every time. He’d had this one in particular for nearly five years. Three years was the max, usually.
She ducked back under the 4x4 and taped the hole in the reservoir. Must’ve caught on a branch or something in the mud. Though she could fix this with duct tape, she couldn’t do anything for what her ineptitude had cost Dad. And he deserved the best. Which brought her right back around to that convo she needed to broach with him.
No time like the present. Delaney climbed out from under the Jeep and wiped the mud from her face. “Guess what? Surge and I are being sent on a mission to Singapore, and I’m buying you a new leg with the money. It’s just extra pay.” She pulled out a KONG and tossed it toward the trees. Surge sailed after it.
“A mission?” Dad balked. “You’re a trainer, not a military handler.”
“That’s what I told Heath, but they need Surge, and he does best with me. Heath said he wouldn’t send us if he didn’t think we were ready. And that bonus is going to fix you right up with a new leg.”