He set Zoey on the exam table and stepped back. His eyes followed the trail of blood from her head, down her neck, and to where it’d pooled on her shirt. He glanced around for something she could change into.
Sarah Jean was one step ahead of him and handed Zoey an exam gown. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Zoey looked down at herself and cringed. Her free hand went to her head. “I’m bleeding.”
Hunter snorted.
“And in shock,” said Dr. Motaoka.
Hunter smirked at her, and Zoey’s scowl deepened.
The doctor moved Zoey’s hand from her head and nodded once. “I’ll get the suture kit.”
“Go on.” Sarah Jean shooed him out of the room. “Give us five minutes and you can hover over her all you want.”
Hunter nodded and stepped into the hallway, Dr. Motaoka on his heels. She was about his age, only a few years out of med school, and had the energy of a dozen people. She hurried to the back room to get what she needed.
“What women?” Zoey yelled after him. Sarah Jean shut the door in his face. “You’ll tell me, won't you?” he heard her ask Sarah Jean.
Hunter ran his hands down his face. He glanced down at his shirt, also covered in Zoey’s blood, and let out a ragged breath. He peeled the flannel off, leaving only the white tee he wore beneath. Now that the danger was over and Zoey was in a place she could get help, the adrenaline that kept him going wore off faster than face paint in an apple-bobbing contest.
He’d said some pretty harsh stuff to her. Also, he may have confessed that he loved her—he wasn’t quite sure what all had happened in the last twenty minutes.
He put his hands on his knees and bent over, feeling like he could take a nap right there in the middle of the hallway. He had to pull it together—Zoey needed him whether she liked it or not.
The women spoke too quietly behind the closed door for him to eavesdrop. Sarah Jean had a low voice anyway. A few minutes later, Dr. Motaoka came back and knocked lightly on the door.
“Come in,” called Zoey.
Doc hurried in, leaving the door open for him to follow. He stood in the doorway, unsure of his welcome. Maybe he should call Brandon to come get Zoey … As soon as the idea popped in his head, he pushed it away. He wanted to be the one to take care of her—as much as she’d let him, anyway. Plus, he’d nearly gotten her killed, and he didn’t want Brandon to think Hunter couldn’t take care of his sister.
“In or out, Hunter,” said Zoey. “You’re making me nervous standing there like a bear.”
He gritted his teeth and stepped into the room. It wasn’t much of an invitation, but he’d take it nonetheless. “It wasn’t women—it was one woman,” he said as Dr. Motaoka rubbed a cleaning solution around the wound. When she started touching open flesh, he glanced down.
“What?” Zoey asked, sucking air through her teeth.
“It can sting,” said Doc.
The phone rang, and Sarah Jean left to answer without saying a word.
Conversation waited until Doc Motaoka applied the numbing cream. “Let that sit for fifteen minutes, and I’ll be back to check on you.” She patted Zoey’s knee. She paused just before shutting the door and gave Hunter a look that saiddon’t upset my patient.
He hardly had the energy for that left inside of him, but there was something he had to clear up. “I don’t bringwomento the clinic. I brought in Swayzie—last spring.” He glanced down at the chair and ran his hands over the wooden arms, just like he’d done that day. Man, he hated these chairs.
“What happened?” Zoey asked. Her face was half-covered by a plastic-tissue thing. Didn’t matter, though. She was still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.
He longed to kneel by her side and hold her hand. But they’d been fighting and they were mad, and he didn’t know how to approach someone who acted like she wanted to punch him in the face. He blew out air. “I was shoeing a colt in the barn. I asked her to hold him because he was high-strung and needed someone on the lead—someone to talk to him. You know.”
The tissue crinkled as she nodded.
“Anyway, the horse reared up and took Swayzie with it. She fell under the hooves, and the horse sidestepped and pranced.” He shuddered at the memory. “I thought she was dead.” He sat still, frozen by the horror of thinking his older sister had been trampled. “Lucky was there. He threw himself against the backside of the horse and shoved it away—saving Swayzie. The horse stepped on her shin, though, and we rushed her in here, not sure if her leg was broken. Man, it swelled so big and was ugly so fast. I thought—I thought—”
“Hunter.” Zoey’s hand waved as she reached for him. He grasped it, falling on his knees beside the exam table. “Hunter—it’s okay. I’m okay.”
He pressed her hand to his forehead, feeling the warmth in her skin. It was like touching heaven—a saving in and of itself. “It was my fault. All my fault.”
“Is that what Swayzie said?”
