He must find what he was looking for because he just nods, a short, sharp jerk of his head.
“You scared the hell out of us,” Tex says.
“I have no memory of what happened,” I admit, my mind still fuzzy around the edges.
“Well, they’re turning the ranch into a fucking spectacle,” he says, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s like a three-ring circus out there.”
Billy curses under his breath. “We might as well be a petting zoo. Everyone and their mother keeps driving by to take pictures from a distance.”
Just as Tex is about to say more, Nurse Maggie and Dr. Thorne appear. They’re with Mayor Ruth Holloway, who is dressed in a full hazmat suit, making her look like a futuristic astronaut who’s come to inspect our livestock.
“Dr. Archer,” the mayor says, her voice slightly muffled by her mask. “It’s quite unfortunate what happened. We’re all glad you’re feeling better.” She gives a little nod, a gesture of formal,municipal sympathy. “I’m here in case you need anything. The town will provide whatever resources are necessary.”
Nurse Maggie steps forward, her medical kit in hand. “I’m going to run a few tests on you, Sedona. Check your vitals, your temperature. Then Dr. Thorne will need to take your sample.”
She says it so casually, as if she’s talking about a routine blood draw.
I just nod, my head swimming.
Dr. Thorne looks at me, inscrutable behind his reflective faceplate. “We will need to conduct the examination in a controlled environment. Who would you like to stay with you during the procedure?”
My gaze sweeps over the three brothers. Billy, with his fierce, protective anger. Tex, with his open, worried concern. Seth is standing quietly in the background.
They’re all here, all wanting to help, all wanting to be near me. But the thought of being alone with any of them, in this clinical, terrifying context, is too much.
My gaze finds Clara. Her face looks pale and worried.
“I want Clara,” I say, my voice firm.
Dr. Thorne gives a curt, professional nod, as if my preference is just another variable to be logged in his report.
“Of course. Ms. Finch, please put on these gloves and a mask.” He hands Clara a small packet, which she fumbles open with trembling hands.
But it’s the brothers’ reactions I feel most acutely. Tex’s shoulders slump, a subtle but devastating droop of his usual bright optimism. He looks like a puppy who’s just been told to stay.
Seth just gives a slow, understanding nod, but I can see the disappointment in his eyes before he masks it. It’s Billy, though, who hurts the most.
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even move. He just… shuts down.
The concern on his face freezes, then recedes, replaced by that familiar, impenetrable wall of ice. He takes a step back, putting more space between us, and the distance feels like a chasm.
“Alright, Dr. Archer,” Nurse Maggie says, her gentle voice pulling my attention back to the immediate, terrifying present. “Let’s get you settled. Just lie back for me.”
I do as she says, the hard gurney unforgiving against my back. She places a cool digital thermometer on my forehead and wraps a blood pressure cuff around my arm, the tight squeeze a strange, grounding pressure.
All the while, Dr. Thorne is preparing his kit, laying out sterile swabs, collection tubes, and syringes on a metal tray. The clink of metal on metal makes my stomach clench.
“Your temperature is elevated,” Maggie notes, her voice calm. “One-oh-two-point-four. We’ll monitor that.”
Dr. Thorne steps forward, his face a blank, reflective shield. “I need to take a blood sample and a throat swab. This will be uncomfortable, but it is necessary.”
I just nod, my throat too tight to speak. I look past him, to the open door of the ambulance, where I can see the three Carson brothers standing together, a silent, watching triad.
Billy’s arms are crossed, his jaw like granite. Tex is pacing, his agitation a visible energy. Seth is just standing still, his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on me.
They are my past, my present, and a future I can’t even begin to comprehend. And right now, they are just spectators to my violation.
The needle is a sharp, quick prick, a brief, bright flare of pain as Dr. Thorne draws vials of my dark red blood. Then comesthe swab, a long, sterile Q-tip that he pushes to the back of my throat, triggering my gag reflex.
