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“Alright, it’s a saying and it’s a good one.”
Kier stuffed a bundle of gowns into the space on the shelf for them. “I haven’t met her in person. Are you satisfied?”
“I don’t even want to know what else you’ve been doing. Electronic kissing.” He shuddered. “That’s great, though.” He clapped a hand on Kier’s shoulder in support.
“Don’t let Josephine know. She’ll give me no peace. She’ll want every detail and then she’ll want to meet her, and I’m not ready for people to know yet. I wanted to tell you first and I have, even if I did a shite job of it.” Kier gave Trace a pointed look.
He put up his hands. “I already know about it, and I haven’t leaked it yet. Your secrets are all safe with me.”
“I’m happy for you. Really. But your happiness doesn’t have to extend to me. I have a full life here.” He had a busy life, at any rate. Busy meant full, didn’t it? If it didn’t, he didn’t want to know. He was happy enough. He was doing something that mattered. Watching over Greenacre, protecting Sam, healing his fellow bears. That mattered. He was making a difference. He didn’t need a mate to feel like he fit.
“What’s this about happiness lacking? Not in my clinic.”
Tavish barely held back a groan. Kier went two shades redder.
Trace immediately snagged his mate, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek. “Nothing, my love. Nothing at all. No happiness is lacking. Not with you here. You’re the world, my darling. No man could be happier.”
Josephine laughed at her mate, flustered in a way she wouldn’t be caught dead doing in front of a patient, but it was just them. She could never resist Trace and his flirting. It was just the slightest bit sickening, but in a good way. It was great seeing his friends happy. They were far better off with mates and with family. For them, that was their life.
But it truly didn’t mean that it had to be his.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Josephine admitted. “But I’m still worried that someone isn’t happy.”
“We’re happy,” Kier quickly said. “Super happy. The clinic couldn’t be better, Josephine. Really.”
“Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes. She knew them well enough after working together for so long to know when they were bullshitting her, or at least keeping something from her.
Before she could press further the bell at the front jingled violently, which usually signalled some sort of emergency.
They all broke out of the supply room and went flying towards the front at the same time.
The first thing that struck Tavish about the dark-haired woman who was hobbling in, leaning on another woman who looked so similar that they were probably sisters, wasn’t the amount of blood staining her jeans. It wasn’t the pain etched across her face that she was bravely trying to combat by sawing her teeth into her bottom lip. It was her big, emerald eyes and the way they immediately locked on him, even though he was no one—not a doctor, not even a trained nurse, just one of four people she didn’t know. One look into those bright greens and he knew he wouldn’t forget them. Ever.
He gave himself a shake when he caught Kier giving him a funny look. It was almost like he had the wordprovidenceorfatewritten in his expression and Tavish wasn’t here for it.
He was here to help.
He remembered that as soon as Josephine and Trace rushed towards the two women.
“What happened?” Josephine asked as she helped support the newcomer and usher her into one of the back rooms for patients.
“She had a flat,” the sister explained as they rushed towards the back of the clinic. “I came to help her change it. She insisted that our dad told her that she had to step on the tire iron to get the bolts off. They were obviously on there tight, and we didn’t have anything other than that stupid tool. It slipped off and I don’t know… she somehow gouged her leg or something. Cut it. God, I swear I can see bone. Can you see bone? This was supposed to be a fun, girls’ getaway trip. Is she going to lose her leg? Christ, if she loses her leg, I’m never going to forgive myself.”
“Whoa.” Trace put a steadying hand on the sister’s arm. “No one is losing a leg. Not on my watch and certainly not on my wife’s. This is Josephine. You’re both in the best hands now. Literally. Josephine is amazing. She’ll get—”
“January.” The woman’s voice was reedy and laced with pain, but she was sitting on the exam table like a champ. Of the two of them, she was much calmer about the whole thing despite her injury.
“January. What a beautiful name.” Josephine lifted the bloodstained pantleg as far as it would go. “Mind if I cut this off at the knee?”
“Christ, I thought you said—”
“The pants,” Josephine said, laughing softly. “Goodness, I’m talking about the pants.”
“Go ahead.” January inclined her head at the other woman, which also made her jut her chin stubbornly. “Stop freaking out, June. I’m okay.”
Once Josephine had cut those jeans carefully, a big eight-inch or so gash right along the shin bone was revealed. It was deep in places, and there was definitely a skin flap in others. Tavish had seen a ton of gruesome injuries since starting at the clinic and certainly before that, stitching up clan members as the need arose—so the sight itself didn’t bother him. However, something about the sight of this woman in pain hit him hard, and he found himself rooted to the spot.
“You’re not okay,” June wailed. She swiped at her eyes furiously like she wanted to be tough too and not break down, but she was already in the process of doing it.
