Page 65 of The SEAL and the Sheriff

Sophie Meyer arrived coat half-buttoned, eyes fixed on Sarah with a terror she was trying to turn into efficiency. Wyatt came in behind her, quieter, his face stripped down to something impassive and focused.

Hudson had seen that look before. In places where men searched for exit routes, blood trails, and the person responsible.

Sophie went straight to the bed. “Oh, baby.”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“You are not fine. You’re in the hospital.”

“It’s mostly precautionary.”

“You rolled your truck.”

“Technically, someone rolled it for me.”

Sophie made a small sound and reached for her hand.

That did something to Hudson he wasn’t prepared for, the quiet surrender of her fingers into her mother’s. He’d spent so long remembering the girl she’d been that he’d forgotten there were people who still got to protect the woman she’d become.

He looked away. Blood, he understood.

“Hudson.” Sophie looked him over for the first time. “Have you been checked over?”

“Yes, ma’am. Ambulance crew checked me before we left the scene.”

She studied him for another second anyway, as though deciding whether she believed him, then turned her attention back to her daughter.

Wyatt stopped at the end of the bed. His gaze skimmed over Sarah, then shifted to Hudson.

Sarah glared at her brother. “Don’t start.”

“I haven’t said anything.” Wyatt folded his arms.

“You have a face.”

Wyatt’s jaw flexed.

Sophie leaned closer. “Do you know who did this?”

“No.” Sarah gave a tiny shake of her head.

“Was it connected to Hudson?” Sophie asked, then looked as if she wished she hadn’t.

Sarah’s eyes slid toward him. Hudson held her gaze.

For a second, nobody spoke.

Sarah gave a tired, crooked little breath that might have been a laugh if it had more strength behind it. “Deputy Marshal Kane.” Her eyes were half closed now, her voice softened by exhaustion and whatever filter the crash had shaken loose. “Threw away his case file.”

Hudson closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck.

Wyatt looked from Sarah to Hudson. “You threw away your case file?”

“They had a gun on Sarah.”

Wyatt studied his sister. She was pale beneath the bruising, exhaustion pulling at her features, one hand still wrapped in Sophie’s. When he looked at Hudson again, something in his expression had shifted.

“Yeah,” Hudson said.