“Thank you,” I murmur. I don’t even have the energy to feel embarrassed.
He nods. “Better?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Good.” A monitor beeps somewhere down the hall, but he doesn’t move yet. “You likely have a concussion, based on the fact that you lost consciousness and have some gaps in memory, but the doctor on shift tonight ordered a CT scan to check for anything more serious. You’ll need someone to stay with you for the next twenty-four hours to monitor your symptoms. Have you had any concussions or other head injuries in the past?”
“No.” A little surprising, considering my line of work. I’ve experienced many twisted and sprained ankles, scraped knees and elbows, and more pulled muscles than I can count, but I’ve managed to never hit my head. And judging by how I feel right now, I’m glad for it.
“That’s good,” he says, lips quirking in another uneven grin. A dimple appears in his cheek. “I’ve had my fair share, and every single one feels worse than the last.”
I lift an eyebrow. “You get a lot of head injuries working in the ER?”
He fingers the pocket on his scrub pants, pulling at a frayed thread. “Nah, I worked on a ranch in high school. Got kicked and thrown off enough horses to know to keep my distance.”
It’s surprising. He’s muscular but lean, tall but not imposing. Messy hair and kind eyes. Not the type I would have expected to see working on a ranch.
“So you’re not from here,” I say. “I knew I didn’t recognize you.” My voice is raspier than usual, my throat dry after being asleep for who knows how long.
He gives me a smile that feels a little indulgent. “No, I’m new to town.”
“What—”
Before I can finish my question, the beeping noise from outside changes, sounding more urgent. Jack pushes off the desk and checks his watch, his casual demeanor slipping into professionalism. “I need to go check on another patient. Someone will be here in a few minutes to take you to your CT.”
He’s out the door before I can say anything else, and I see blue scrubs disappearing around the corner into the room next door. Silence descends again for just a moment, the room feeling oddly empty before Wren and Holden come back in, my mother nowhere to be found.
“Your mom had to head home,” Wren says, answering the question before I can ask. “Your grandma got confused and upset and your dad needed help calming her down.”
That happens a lot during storms, and my mom leaving suddenly probably didn’t help. Guilt pricks at me once more, and although I try to hide it from Wren, I know she sees it.
“They’ll be fine,” she assures me.
I force a smile. “Yeah, I know.”
The door opens again, and another nurse comes in. This woman, I recognize. She used to work at one of the pediatric offices in town. Although my hometown, Fontana Ridge, is a tourist town, I know almost everyone who lives here. We’re a small, tight-knit community, and new people are few and far between.
“Hi, Stevie. I’m here to take you to your CT.” She looks at Wren and Holden. “She should be back in about fifteen minutes.”
Sleep tugs at me as I’m wheeled across the hall and back to my room under the harsh fluorescent lights after finishing my CT scan. I catch a glimpse of Jack laughing with another nurse at the desk, leaning on it the same way he was in my room. My lids are heavy as the nurse helps me back into my bed, my head swimming. Wren watches me with concerned blue eyes.
I sink into the pillows and roll my head toward her. “So what happened?”
Her bottom lip catches between her teeth and dread courses through me.
“How bad is it?” I ask before she gets a chance to respond.
She lets out a sigh, resignation pulling at her delicate features. “Bad.”
My head pounds, tension forming a knot in the space between my brows. It’s the middle of fall, my busiest season, and I’m going to have to spend every spare moment working on repairs. I just know it.
I close my eyes against the harsh lights. “I’ll assess the damage in the morning. I just want to pass out in my bed tonight. Can you stay with me? The nurse said someone needed to be with me for twenty-four hours.”
It can be like old times, back before Wren married Holden and had his baby and became a stepmom to his daughter. Back when we used to cram into my little Airstream and eat whatever recipe I was experimenting with at the time and watch movies on my tiny TV, the one that could rival Michael Scott’s inThe Office. We haven’t had one of those nights in months, and it’s as much my fault as it is hers. We both have more responsibilities than ever. I remember when I used to dread winter in Fontana Ridge, when I would feel like the walls of my Airstream were closing in on me and I would go stir crazy trying to find things to fill my time until the town came alive again in the spring. Now I’m counting down the days until I can slow down, until I can have a single moment to myself without feeling like the weight of my responsibilities are threatening to collapse me.
I reallydon’tneed a damaged home to deal with right now.
“Stevie…” Wren says, and I open my eyes at the gentle tone in her voice. “We can’t go back to the Airstream.”
