Something twisted in my chest, something that felt uncomfortably like guilt. Or worse…concern.
“Ambulance is coming,” Angelo said, crouching beside us. “They said fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes felt like an eternity.
I kept my hand on Dante’s forehead, my other hand resting on his chest to feel his breathing. Each shallow rise and fall was a small relief. He was alive. He was breathing. That had to be enough.
“Come on,” I said quietly, more to myself than to him. “Don’t you dare die on me. You hear me, Dante? You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to ruin my life and then just fuck off you stupid?—”
His eyes fluttered open.
I nearly jumped back in surprise, but my hand remained pressed against his forehead. Those dark eyes found mine immediately, unfocused at first, then sharpening with recognition.
“Nick,” he breathed, his voice gravelly.
“Don’t move,” I ordered, even as relief flooded through me so intensely it made me dizzy. “You got hit really fucking hard. There’s an ambulance on the way.”
He tried to sit up anyway, because of course he did. I pressed my hand against his shoulder, keeping him down. “I said don’t move, you stubborn asshole.”
“Where’s the cow?” he asked, wincing.
“Gone. Angelo scared it off.” I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation. Couldn’t believe he was conscious and talking and apparently more concerned about the damn heifer than his own injuries.
“Good.” He tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “Are you okay?”
The question hit me harder than the ground had. He was lying there, possibly with broken ribs or internal bleeding, and he was asking if I was okay.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. “You’re the idiot who decided to play bullfighter.”
“I couldn’t let her trample you.” His hand came up, fingers wrapping around my wrist where I still held pressure on his forehead. “I had to protect you.”
I stared at him, at the blood seeping between my fingers, at the way he was looking at me like taking a hit from a charging cow was the most natural thing in the world. Something inside my chest cracked open, spilling out emotions I didn’t want to examine.
“Why?” The word came out barely above a whisper. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I care about you.” He said it so simply, like it was obvious. Like it wasn’t turning my entire world sideways. “That’s what husbands do, right?”
Husbands. The word had always felt like a chain around my neck, a reminder of everything I’d lost. But hearing it now, seeing the way he’d put himself in danger for me without a second thought, it felt different. His natural instinct was to protect me. So, when he said he cared, I… I actuallybelievedhim.
“You’re insane,” I muttered, but I didn’t pull my hand away from his. And I didn’t move from where I was kneeling beside him in the dirt.
“Probably.” His thumb brushed against the inside of my wrist, and I felt my pulse jump under his touch. “But I meant what I said, Nick. Nobody hurts what’s mine. That includes these stupid fucking cows.”
Angelo cleared his throat awkwardly. He’d been watching the entire exchange. “Ambulance just turned onto the ranch road. Should be here in a minute.”
I could hear the siren now, distant but getting closer. Part of me wanted to pull away from Dante, to put space between us before the paramedics arrived and saw... whatever this was. But I couldn’t bring myself to let go.
“Dante,” I said, my voice coming out softer than I’d intended. “I’m?—”
“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted, wincing as he tried to shift position. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
But I had, hadn’t I? I’d spent weeks treating him like the enemy, refusing to see him as anything more than the monster who’d ruined my life. And now he was lying here bleeding because he’d thrown himself in front of danger to protect me.
The ambulance came to a stop nearby, doors slamming as paramedics rushed over with their equipment. I finally pulled my hand away from his forehead, reluctantly breaking contact. One of them—a woman I vaguely recognized from town—knelt beside us.
“What happened?” she asked, already checking Dante’s vitals.
“Cow charged him,” I said, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. “Hit him square in the chest. He’s been conscious for a few minutes now, but?—”
