"This is going to sting," I said, uncapping the antiseptic.
"I've had worse."
I didn't doubt it. I dabbed the cut clean, working carefully while she sat perfectly still, barely breathing. When I wrapped the gauze around her palm and secured it with tape, she finally exhaled.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
I didn't let go right away. Couldn't, for reasons I wasn't ready to think about. Her hand sat in mine, small and warm and real, and I had the sudden, irrational urge to keep it there.
She pulled back first, tucking her bandaged hand against her stomach. "I'm back to settle Aunt Lois's estate. For some reason, she named me executor."
"How long are you staying?"
"However long it takes."
That could mean weeks. Months, even, depending on how complicated Lois's affairs were. The thought settled somewhere behind my ribs, equal parts anticipation and concern.
"Are you planning to stay here?" I asked.
"It's my house now. Technically."
"It's cold."
"I'll figure it out."
Of course she would. Claire Hollister had always been the kind of person who figured things out on her own, even when she didn't have to. Even when it would've been easier to ask for help.
I stood, gathering the first-aid supplies and tucking them back into the kit. "If you need anything?—"
"I'll be fine, Torin."
She said it gently, but firmly, and I recognized the boundary she was drawing. I nodded, respecting it even as every instinct I had told me to stay, to make sure she had heat and food and someone watching her back.
“You’re going to need to board up that window until you can get someone out here to fix it. Want me to see if there’s some plywood in the garage?”
“I’ll deal with it in the morning.” She stood like she was eager for me to get going. “I just spent fourteen hours on the road and all I want to do right now is make a cup of tea and go to bed.”
“The hot air’s going to go right out the window. You’ll be paying to heat the outdoors.”
She smiled, a gentle reminder that the Hollisters could probably afford to heat the whole state of Montana, even during an early March snowstorm.
“Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.” Claire walked toward the now-functional front door, clearly expecting me to follow.
“At least lock the door behind me.” I didn’t feel right leaving her there, hurt and tired and cold. But she was an adult… a gorgeous, all-grown-up woman… and I didn’t have a legitimate reason to stay.
She pulled the door open with her uninjured hand. "I will."
“Goodnight, Claire. Welcome home.” I left her standing in the doorway, light spilling around her like a halo, and forced myself to walk back to my truck without looking over my shoulder. When I reached the cab, I sat there for a long moment, engine idling, and watched the house until I saw the porch light flick off.
Then I pulled out my phone and updated my patrol route, adding a few extra passes by the old Hollister place over the next few days.
Just in case.
CHAPTER 2
CLAIRE
