"There's significant old structural injury," Portoris said, indicating the affected area without burying the explanation in jargon. "There is also wear consistent with the knee repeatedly becoming unstable. That doesn't mean you're beyond help, but it does mean the current pattern is not safe to continue. We'll involve the appropriate specialists and work out whether reconstruction and rehabilitation offer the best chance of improvement."
Emily swallowed. "How long off work?"
"That depends on the procedure and on your recovery," he replied. "We would be talking about weeks of limited activity and probably months of rehabilitation, not a weekend in bed. I would rather give you an honest range after the surgical assessment than promise you a quick fix."
"I can't do that," she said, almost before he finished. "I pay rent every month. If I don't work, I don't get paid."
Cole leaned forward. "Your job is not going anywhere."
She looked at him sharply. "You can't know that."
"I own the shop. I know what I can offer. We need to set up the paperwork properly, and Sandra will make sure the arrangements are in writing. But I'm not firing you because you need treatment."
"I'm only the parts clerk."
"For now," he replied.
The words seemed to change the air. Portoris, who had no interest in workshop politics, looked from one to the other and wisely left the question alone. Emily lowered her eyes because hope had arrived too suddenly, and she mistrusted things that made promises before the first bill had come due.
"We can look at several ways to address the financial side," Portoris said. "Your veteran status may be relevant to covered care, and a benefits advocate can help with the records. I can also refer you for assistance with payment arrangements if there's a gap. What I won't do is tell you to ignore a knee this unstable because the paperwork is difficult."
Cole nodded. "We'll find the advocate. We'll go through the forms."
"It's not that easy," Emily whispered.
"I didn't say it was easy. I said you won't be doing it alone."
The ride back to Thunder Ridge was quieter. Emily rested against a cushion, exhausted by the appointment and by the amount of herself she had revealed in a single day. Cole looked out the windshield, thinking of the many times he had told riders they were brothers and then treated loyalty as something proven only by dramatic acts. He had never once considered whether the woman organizing his stockroom had a doctor, adequate insurance, or a safe way home when her knee failed.
At the shop he asked Sandra to come into the office. He told her Emily would need medical leave, that she was not to be taken off payroll without a written plan, and that he wanted a proper review of the duties and compensation of everyone in the business. Sandra listened carefully and asked the practical questions Cole often preferred to avoid, especially about how he intended to fund a prolonged leave. By the end of the conversation they had a plan to discuss with Emily rather than a vague promise she would be expected to trust.