by Nan Dixon
“That’s hard,” he said. “Who’s at the hospital with you?”
He was so sweet. “No one.”
“You’re alone?” he asked. “Where are you?”
“Memorial.”
“I’m on my way.”
“What? You don’t—” But he’d hung up.
She should call Sage back. Tell him not to come. He was healing from his own injury.
But she was selfish. She didn’t want to be alone.
* * *
SAGE FIRED UP the Uber app and entered the information. Twice. The numbers and letters kept bouncing around. Great. Five minutes away. He was pushing out the door when the SUV arrived. “Memorial University Hospital. ER please.”
The driver frowned at him through the rearview mirror. “You aren’t bleeding on my upholstery, right?”
“No. Just—helping a friend.” He patted his pocket, checking for a pain pill. He wasn’t sure if a headache would erupt. He knew some of the triggers—bright lights, forgetting to eat—but he didn’t know what else might ignite the jackhammers in his head.
Talking to Carolina over the last two days had been the highlight of his week. Somehow listening to her voice soothed his aches. He’d known she’d come back to Tybee because of her mother, but he hadn’t known her mother was this sick. Carolina shouldn’t be alone at the hospital. He could sit with her, help her.
The image of him in a white cowboy hat riding Mac, his Appaloosa, to her rescue stuck in his brain like barbed wire. Would his father think this was heroic? It was about all he could do until he could get back on the job.
The SUV pulled up to the ER doors. “Thanks.”
He spotted Carolina in the ER waiting room. She stared at her hands, not noticing him walking toward her.
Slipping into the chair next to her, he said, “Carolina?”
“You came,” she whispered. The relief in her drenched blue eyes made him want to earn that white hat.
There was something so lost about her that he took her hands, needing to touch her. “What can I do for you?”
Her mouth dropped open. “For me?”
He ripped his gaze off her pink lips. This wasn’t the time to think about kissing her. “The medical staff is taking care of your mother. I’m here for you.”
“Thank you.” The muscles in her body softened. “They won’t tell me what’s going on.”
He wanted to hold her. To tuck her safely into his arms. “Let me check.”
Sage never used his job to get information, but for Carolina, he headed to the receptionist desk and snapped out his badge. “What is the status of...?” Damn. He didn’t know the mother’s name. “Mrs. Castillo?”
The receptionist’s eyes widened at the sight of his FBI credentials. “Is there an ongoing case?”
Hell, Sage was on medical leave until his headaches and vision were normal. He just stood there, letting the woman draw her own conclusions.
“Mrs. Castillo is stabilized. They’re giving her fluids for dehydration. She’s scheduled for a MRI.”
“So why can’t her daughter see her?” Sage raised his eyebrows, even though there was a warning tick that if he kept this up, those jackhammers behind his eyes were going to start drilling.
“We had car accident victims come in. They’re pretty busy.” The receptionist stood. “But let me check.”
“Thanks.” He headed back to Carolina and asked, “Did they tell you she was dehydrated?”
“They haven’t talked to me.”
“They’re working on that and she’s scheduled for an MRI.”
Carolina took a deep breath, her tank top molding to her very nice chest. Damn, he was scum.
“They probably want to check her brain tumors.” Carolina’s voice was so soft he leaned closer to hear her.
“Brain tumors?” Guess they hadn’t fully discussed her mother’s diagnosis. “I’m sorry.”
A nurse waved to them from the door. “Miss Castillo, you can come back now.”
Carolina stuffed things into a big bag. She turned to him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “Will you come with me?”
“Absolutely. Whatever you need. I’m here for you.”
* * *
“HAS SHE REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS?” Carolina asked the nurse, taking Mamá’s hand.
“Still unconscious, but she’s made some sounds.” The nurse smiled. “That’s not a bad thing. I’ll get the doctor. He can tell you more.”
The nurse slipped out the doorway. Sage’s fingers squeezed her shoulder.
Her mother’s skin was as pale as the industrial-white sheets covering her. Carolina was used to her mother’s warm golden skin tone. The blue veins in Mamá’s arms and hands stood out. Without her dancing eyes and animated face, her mother looked fragile.
Sage leaned over. “You look like her.”
“That’s what people say.” Her mother was more beautiful than Carolina would ever be.
“Sit.” Sage pushed a chair next to the bed. “Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? Food?”
“I guess. I didn’t get a chance to eat.” She stroked Mamá’s hand. “Crackers and water?”
He grimaced. “How about a sandwich?”
She shrugged.
“I’m on it.” He patted her back and his chocolate-and-citrusy scent cut through the hospital disinfectant. “I’ll be right back.”
It should be—weird. But having Sage here wasn’t awkward or strange.
“Mamá.” She lay her head next to her mother’s. “I want you to get better. Don’t leave me alone.”
She held her breath, hoping Mamá would squeeze her hand.
Nothing. Carolina’s shoulders slumped as she exhaled.
“You have to get better. The gown you have on is not in your color wheel.” She smiled at her reference to The Blind Side. She and Mamá had watched it the other night and laughed at the line.
Carolina couldn’t stand the silence. “I met a very nice man when I interviewed at Fitzgerald House. We’ve talked every day since we met. When he heard I was at the hospital, he rushed down to help us. Isn’t that sweet? His name is Sage. His eyes are green—like his name.”
She stroked her mother’s hair. “He has headaches, too. I don’t know the cause, we haven’t known each other that long. He’s getting me some water. Isn’t that nice?”
Footsteps stopped at her mother’s doorway. Carolina brushed away the tears that wouldn’t stop.
“Hi, Carolina,” Dr. Laster whispered. She moved in and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry to see you again so soon.”
“Me, too.” Carolina’s response was watery.
“Tell me what happened.”
Once again Carolina went through her mother’s seizure. As she finished, Sage came in. Dr. Laster raised her eyebrows.
Carolina said, “This is my friend Sage.”
He handed Carolina an open bottle of water and a sandwich. “Would you like me to leave?”
“Just for her examination,” Dr. Laster said.
Sage and Carolina waited outside the door. “Thank you,” she said, taking a bite of the sandwich.
“I didn’t know what you liked.” He smiled. “I thought ham and cheese would be better than tuna fish out of a vending machine.”
“It’s fine.” She couldn’t taste anything anyway.
“You can come back in,” Dr. Laster said from the doorway.
Sage settled her in the chair and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.
“Here’s the plan,” Dr. Laster said. “She’ll have an MRI. Once she’s conscious, I want a neurologist to see her.”
Carolina nodded. “Will she be able to go home?”
“We’ll see.” Dr. Laster patted Mamá’s hand and headed out the door.
Carolina and
Sage waited. And talked. When her mother was wheeled down for her MRI, they walked along the quiet corridors behind her gurney. Each time they passed under a bright light, he winced.
She asked, “How’s your head?”
“My head?”
“You’re hurting.”
He started to nod but grimaced and stopped. “I’ve got my meds if it gets too bad.”
Even though she wanted him to stay, she said, “You should go home.”
“I’m good.” He took her hand and laced their fingers together. “I want to help you.”
“Thank you for being here,” she said.
“It’s no big deal.”
But it was to her. She wasn’t alone. She had someone to lean on. She wouldn’t mind him holding her until her mother was better.
The tech directed them to a small waiting room. They sat next to each other on the sofa.
“This will go down as my most unusual first date ever,” he said.
“Date?” She looked up at him and got lost in his green gaze. “I like you, but because of my mother, I don’t think I have time to date.”
“I know we don’t know each other very well, but I want that to change.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. “No pressure. I’m here to help.”
He tugged her so her head rested on his shoulder. “Any help or comfort you need, I’m your guy.”
Her body melted into his.
When her mother had first gone through breast cancer treatment, Carolina had been alone. Could she accept his help?
A different tech, female this time, walked in. “Agent Cornell?”
Agent?
Sage straightened but kept his arm around Carolina. “Yes?”
“How are you doing?” The blonde put a hand on his arm.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
The tech giggled. Giggled! “I did your MRI—twice. Just a couple of weeks ago.”
He’d had MRIs? Carolina’s breath rushed out. Did he have cancer, too?
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I don’t remember.”
“Of course you don’t.” The tech still hadn’t removed her hand from Sage’s biceps. “How are the headaches?”
Sage didn’t answer. “Are you here to tell Ms. Castillo about her mother?”
“Oh, yes.” The tech straightened, her hand dropping away. “She’ll be done in a few minutes. Then they’ll compare this scan to her last one. You can wait in her exam room.”
“Did she wake?” Carolina asked.
“I thought she had for a moment, but she’s not conscious now. The good news is that she hasn’t had another seizure.”
Well, that was something.
The tech smiled at Sage. “If you want to know anything about your scan, you can ask for me—Amara.”
“Thanks. I talked to my doctor.” Sage laced his hand with Carolina’s.
She and Sage headed back toward her mother’s room.
Instead of asking why he’d had two MRIs, she asked, “Did you recognize her?”
“No.”
“Why did she call you ‘agent’?”
“That’s what I am.” He hesitated. “I work for the FBI.”
An FBI agent? She swallowed. Yesterday she’d started to ask what he did for a living, but Mamá had needed her medicine. She and Sage hadn’t gotten back to that conversation.
“Why did you need MRIs?” she asked.
He shifted, no longer touching her. “I was hit.”
“In the head?”
“Yeah.”
At least he didn’t have cancer. “That’s why you’re having headaches?”
“Yes.”
He wasn’t volunteering information. They reached her mother’s room. The distance between them was bigger than the hallway. “Thank you for coming. It’s probably better if you leave.”
“What? Why?”
Was he clueless? “You were injured. You shouldn’t be taking care of me while you’re still healing.”
“Hey.” Sage stepped closer. “I want to be here. I...hate sitting around.”
“How exactly were you injured?”
“I hit my head and a bullet winged me.”
Her legs wobbled. “You were shot?”
“Winged.” He led her to the chair and pulled over a rolling stool, sitting in front of her. “I don’t remember much.”
She cupped his cheek. He’d been shot and he’d still come to the hospital—for her. “Will you be all right?”
“Absolutely.” His gaze dropped to the floor.
Was he lying?
Her mother was wheeled back into the room and a nurse followed in her wake, so she couldn’t press him.
“Dr. Laster is admitting your mother,” the nurse said. “We’re working on the paperwork.”
“When will she wake up?” Carolina wanted her mother back.
“She mumbled on the way back to the room. That’s good.”
Carolina took her mother’s hand. “Hey, Mamá. I’m here.” She leaned closer. “Come back to me.”
There was weak pressure on her fingers.
“Mamá?” Carolina squeezed again. Hope coursed through her body like a shot of adrenaline. “She squeezed my fingers.”
“That’s great,” Sage said, smiling.
Carolina held her mother’s hand until an orderly came to take her to Intensive Care. “Thank you,” she said to the nurse.
“You bet, honey. I hope your mama wakes up soon.”
Sage took her hand as they followed her mother’s gurney down the hall. His touch whisked away the worst of her stress.
A nurse met them at Intensive Care. “You can wait there.” She pointed out a small waiting room. “We’ll get her checked in. Then I’ll come get you.”
“That’s the way of hospitals. So much waiting.” Sage headed to the small coffee maker. “Do you want coffee or tea? There’s decaf.”
“Sure.” She picked out a tea bag and poured hot water. He poured a cup of coffee.
“Can you drink coffee this late at night?” she asked, tossing her tea bag.
“The caffeine helps with the headaches.”
“Are they back?”
“They don’t ever leave.”
This was something she could do. She pointed to a chair. “Sit.”
“Okay?”
She began with his shoulders.
He put a hand on hers. “You don’t have to do this.”
“It will take my mind off my mother.”
“And I get the benefit.” He leaned forward, giving her better access to his neck and shoulders. “It seems wrong.”
She let her mind go blank as her fingers dug into his muscles and tendons. His groans guided her hands. “I do this for my mother, too.”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“I’m the lucky one.” Without her mother, she’d have no family.
“Do you have brothers or sisters?” Sage’s words were loose and ran together.
“Just me.”
“Dad?”
“Dead.” Her pain cranked up. She pushed too hard and he stiffened.
“I’m sorry. My dad died when I was five.”
“I was five, too.” Not that it was a competition. “Do you have more family?”
“My mother—she’s a rock. And two older brothers.”
“You’re lucky.” If something happened to his mother, he’d still have his brothers. “Where do they live?” she asked.
“Texas.”
“Texas? You don’t have an accent.”
“My dad was in the army. We lived on different bases. After my dad died, we moved to my grandparents’ ranch.”
“A ranch.” She moved in front of him and massaged his temples, glad his eyes were c
losed. “I can’t imagine that.”
“It was great.” His face softened as he smiled. Under her fingers, the tension in his face eased. “I like being around the steers.”
“But you joined the FBI.” And left his family. “Why didn’t you stay to run the ranch?”
He cringed again.
“Sorry.”
“No.” He touched her hands. “It’s... All the men in the family are heroes. I want to be just like my dad and my brothers. Being on the ranch...” He shrugged.
“Heroes?” What did that mean?
“My dad’s a Medal of Honor recipient. Posthumously.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The nurse waved from the doorway. “She’s all settled.”
The hallways lights had dimmed since they’d followed her mother’s gurney up to the floor. If it wasn’t for the beeping monitors and the IV tubing, her sleeping mother would look peaceful.
“She’s in good hands.” The nurse patted Carolina’s shoulder. “You should go home and get some sleep.”
“What if something happens during the night?” Carolina chewed her thumbnail. “I’m twenty minutes away without traffic.”
“We’ll call.” The nurse walked to a whiteboard. “What’s your phone number?”
Carolina recited it.
There was nothing more to do but say good-night. She brushed a kiss on her mother’s cheek. “I love you, Mamá.”
She wouldn’t cry. Mamá needed her to be strong. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
Sage had held back, letting her say goodbye. Now he took her hand. “Are you okay to drive?”
She nodded. But she wasn’t sure.
“I wish I could take you home.” He guided her to the elevator. “But I’m not cleared to drive.”
“How did you get here?”
“Uber.”
He’d made an effort to help her. She swallowed back the gratitude filling her throat like a river. “Thank you. Let me drive you home.”
“Not necessary.”
“Yes, it is.” She pointed the direction to her car. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s your mother in the hospital. How are you?”
She frowned. “You’re avoiding my question.”
Sage waited for her to unlock the car. Then he slid into the passenger seat. “It’s always there. The headache. But your magic hands pushed the pain back. Thanks.”