Page 67 of The SEAL and the Sheriff

Wyatt shifted beside him, shoulder against the wall now, arms folded. “You saved her life tonight.”

Hudson closed his eyes for a second. “I was the one who put her in their path.”

“Maybe. Still saved her.” Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “Doesn’t mean I’m not pissed at you.”

A rough breath left Hudson. “Fair.”

“I’m not trying to be fair.”

“No.”

Wyatt looked back toward Sarah’s room. “Whatever this is, it’s already touching her.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Hudson turned his head.

Wyatt’s face had gone still. Hudson remembered that look from operations, when everything depended on the next ten seconds and the wrong answer got people killed.

This wasn’t war. It felt more dangerous.

“Yes,” Hudson said. “I’ll find them before they get another chance.”

“Good.” One word. Hard enough to level ground.

Hudson looked away first.

Fuck.

Wyatt pushed off the wall. “Doctor says they’re keeping her overnight for observation. Mom’s going to argue with that like it’s negotiable, then go home because Sarah will be annoyed if she doesn’t. I’ll take her.”

“Sure.”

Wyatt took two steps, then stopped. “Don’t let her wake up alone.”

Hudson didn’t answer right away. Finally, he said, “I won’t.”

Wyatt held his gaze for a beat, then left.

Hudson stood alone by the coffee machine with a paper cup cooling in his hand and an old wound opening back up inside him. He hadn’t wanted anyone to see what it had taken out of him. Wyatt had seen anyway.

By the time he returned, Sophie was standing near the bed with her coat clutched in one hand, her other palm resting on Sarah’s blanket-covered leg.

Sarah was asleep.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He didn’t know if he meant tonight, fifteen years ago, or all of it.

Sophie’s hand smoothed once over Sarah’s blanket before she looked back at him. “Thank you for staying.”

He nodded. Fuck.

Wyatt appeared at the door. “Walter’s arranging a deputy for her door.”

Sophie kissed her daughter’s forehead and whispered something Hudson didn’t hear. Sarah didn’t wake, but her fingers moved against the blanket.

Wyatt paused beside the bed. His hand came down lightly on Sarah’s shoulder. “Sleep,” he said. “That’s an order.”