“Thank you,” I gritted out.
Joe peeked his head in. “I couldn’t help but overhear. You two are like a soap opera.” Hayes glared at Joe, but he simply ignored it and handed me a bag. “Had this filled at the pharmacy for you. Take care of yourself, doll.”
“I’ll try. Thanks for holding my hand.”
“Anything for you,” he said with a wink and bustled out. Hayes’ glare intensified.
Dr. Balicanta cleared her throat, but it sounded more like she was trying to cover a laugh. “Well, now that that’s settled, all I need is for you to sign these discharge papers while I give you a dose of these meds through the IV.”
I signed while Dr. Balicanta gave me the drugs. After a couple of minutes, she took out my IV, giving me another of her kind smiles. “Take care of yourself and come back if you have any concerns.”
“Thanks again. For everything.”
She patted my leg through the blanket. “Thanks for being a trooper.”
The drugs were already making their way through my system, and I started to feel as if I were floating just a bit. Hayes moved to my side. “Think you can sit up?”
“I might need a little help there.”
“I got ya.” He moved smoothly and gently, one hand going behind my shoulders and the other taking my hand. He guided me to a sitting position. “Think you need a wheelchair?”
“No. Maybe just an arm to lean on.”
Hayes’ gaze met mine. “I won’t let you fall.”
“Okay.” The single word came out as a whisper, and I forced myself to look away.
We moved slowly through the halls and then out into the night. That first hit of mountain air soothed my fraying nerves—a balm to all the pieces that felt just a bit ragged at the moment. As I stepped off the curb, my entire body twinged.
“What is it? Is something wrong? Should we go back?”
The panic in Hayes’ voice had the corners of my mouth tipping up. For a man who dealt with emergencies every day at his job, it was amusing to see one little grimace send him running. “Nothing a few soaks in the hot springs won’t cure.”
He stayed still for a few more moments, studying my face as if to assess if I was being honest with him. “More than just your head hurting?”
“I landed pretty hard on my side. I’ll be tender for a week or so.”
“Shit. I’m so sorry this happened.”
“Me, too.” I started moving towards the parking lot, scanning the vehicles for that familiar Sheriff’s SUV. “Did you find anything?”
Hayes took my arm again. “This way. And not much. We’ve still got officers looking, and we got a bit of a description from the couple who came along, but it was dark, and he was wearing a hat. All we’ve got is a better idea of height and build.”
“Better than nothing, I guess.”
He beeped the locks on his SUV and opened the passenger door. “We won’t stop searching.”
“I know you won’t.” I looked at the seat I needed to climb into. “This might be tricky.”
“Trust me?”
I turned back to face Hayes. That question held so much more than this moment. It held baggage and forgiveness and a million other things. I searched his face, looking for all the answers I needed in those dark eyes. I didn’t see all of them, but I saw enough. “Yes.”
He moved in, swift and smooth. One arm went under my legs, and the other behind my back. He lifted me as if I weighed no more than a sack of flour and deposited me carefully in the seat.
I let out a whoosh of air. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”
Hayes chuckled. “Easier than anything else. Do you want me to buckle you in?”
“I think I can handle that.”
“All right, then.”
He closed the door softly and rounded the front of the SUV. Climbing behind the wheel, he turned over the engine and started us back towards Wolf Gap. We were quiet on the ride, both of us lost in our thoughts.
I turned my gaze to the sky, searching for the constellations my father had taught me. It was one of the good memories I had of him. And I tried to hold on to the good bits. To remind myself that no one was all good or all bad. But, sometimes, the good pieces held more pain than the bad ones, as if the stars themselves became tattered remnants of what they once were.
Instead of thinking of that, I let my vision blur with the landscape, allowing it to become a beautifully dark impressionist painting in my mind. By the time we pulled up to a house on the outskirts of town, my eyes were drooping, but I was in a lot less pain.
“Here we are.”
I forced my eyes open and did my best to take in the place in front of me. It wasn’t what I’d expected, but it somehow fit. Classic was the word that came to mind. A historic white farmhouse with black shutters and a wraparound porch. There was even a porch swing. He probably had a full acre of land yet could walk to town if he needed to.
“I love a porch swing.”
Hayes grinned. “That one’s solid. A great place to drink a beer and let the day go.”
“I think I need one at my place.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me. But why don’t I get you inside first so you can get some rest?”
I yawned. “I think that’s smart.”
Hayes hopped out of the vehicle and came around to open my door. “I’m gonna lift you again. I think it’ll be easier on your body.”
“Okay.” This time, it didn’t hurt nearly enough. Instead, I felt the planes of muscle as Hayes leaned me into his body. I smelled the hint of something that wasn’t pine but similar.
He eased my feet to the ground. “You okay to walk?”
I nodded, unable to find words at the moment. He led me up the path. The front yard was simple, grass and some basic shrubbery in front of the porch. But it worked. A few pots of flowers with gorgeous blooms sat on the porch steps.
Hayes followed my line of sight. “That’s all my mom. Every time she comes over, she moans about how boring my yard is. Then, a few days later, another pot appears. I had to hire a neighbor girl to water them because I forget and then break my mother’s heart when my black thumb kills something else.”
I could see the interaction in my mind as clear as day. Julia harping on Hayes and fussing with plants. And him simply letting her. Not only that, he’d made it so the plants grew and prospered. “I think they’re beautiful.”
“I don’t hate looking at them.” He put his key in the lock and opened the front door.
I couldn’t help my intake of breath. Hayes was just full of surprises. Instead of the tight corridors and small enclosed rooms I expected from a historic home, it was open and airy. “This is gorgeous.”