was in shock, her skin leached of color, dark bruises standing out on her cheek and jaw.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, but he didn’t think she heard. Her eyes were closed, black lashes fanning across her cheeks. His heart jerked, his muscles tight with the need to take Henry and hunt down whoever had done this to her.
He’d seen women and men in worse shape. He’d tended victims of domestic violence, gang violence and accidents. In his years working on the Houston Police Force, he’d faced plenty of tragedy and dealt with plenty of drama, but he’d never tended a victim who’d been a childhood friend. Now he was back in Sagebrush. It stood to reason that he’d know some of the victims he helped.
He scrounged through a box of supplies that sat next to an industrial-sized refrigerator, found a set of plastic-wrapped cloth napkins and ripped it open. He didn’t have time to deal with personal feelings. Emma was still bleeding, a new pool of blood forming under her head. He snagged a napkin from the package and pressed it to her head, sirens screaming in the background as he tried to staunch the flow of blood.
Pain ripped through Emma’s head, and she moaned, trying to pull herself out of the darkness she’d fallen into.
Something pressed against the back of her head and white-hot pain seared through her. She jerked away, swinging her fist before she had time to think about what she was doing.
“Calm down,” someone said.
Not someone. Lucas.
She knew the voice as well as she’d known the face.
She forced her eyes open. Somehow she’d ended up on the floor again, a leather jacket thrown over her as Lucas pressed something against the lump behind her ear.
“I am calm,” she muttered, pushing his hand away and feeling as if she were back in grade school, fighting with the cutest boy in class. Not surprising. She and Lucas had spent most of fifth grade at each other’s throats. Up until middle school, they’d been as bitter as two enemies could be.
“I’m trying to stop the bleeding,” Lucas responded reasonably, pressing on the painful lump again.
Obviously, he’d matured in the decade since they’d last seen each other. He’d also become a police officer, if the dark blue uniform and shiny badge peeking out from beneath his coat were any indication.
“Thanks, but I’d rather bleed to death than have your hand pushing through the back of my head,” she managed to say past gritted teeth.
“I’m not pushing that hard.”
“You’re pushing hard enough to hurt.”
“I wouldn’t be if you weren’t bleeding like a stuck pig.” Despite the words, his tone was gentle.
Her head hurt, but she’d had worse in the years before Bea had taken her in. She sat up, swiping at his hand again. “I’ll be fine. Just give me whatever you were using to sop up the blood, and I’ll try to stop the bleeding myself.”
He handed her what had once been a white linen napkin. Now it looked more like a blood-soaked washcloth.
“This was one of my good napkins,” she muttered, pressing it against her head anyway.
“It was all I could find.”
“Do you know how much a linen napkin costs?”
“Do you know how much a unit of blood costs?” he responded.
She didn’t, so she pressed her lips together and held the napkin to the bleeding lump. It hurt. A lot, but Lucas was right. She needed to get the bleeding stopped.
“You have a bruise.” Lucas touched her cheek, his fingers grazing tender swollen flesh above the bone. “What happened?”
“I was on my way to my car when someone attacked me.” She shuddered as images of the man who’d grabbed her flashed through her mind.
“Who?”
“I don’t know. He was wearing a ski mask. He asked for money.”
“Do you remember how tall he was? How big?”
She thought back, trying to picture the moment that the man had lunged from the shadows. “I...think he was tall. About your height. Broader, though. I wish I’d noticed more.”
“It’s okay. We’ll get it all figured out after the doctor takes a look at you.”
“Doctor?”
“I called for an ambulance. It should be here any minute.”
“I can’t go to the hospital. I have to get back home. Bea needs me.” She struggled to her feet, the jacket falling to the ground.
“Bea will be fine. I’ll have a patrol car head over to her place so she’ll have a ride to the hospital.”
“She’s going to be worried sick,” Emma mumbled, stars dancing in front of her eyes. She felt woozy and off balance, her ears buzzing and her heart beating an odd uneven rhythm.
She swayed, grabbed the closest thing to her. Found herself clutching Lucas’s arm. It was warm and firm and just a little too comforting. She wanted to step closer, let him wrap his arms around her the way he had so many times when they were kids.
Surprised, she released her hold, stepping back and nearly tripping over a large dog. Brown and black with thick fur and big dark eyes, it looked like an overgrown long-haired German Shepherd. She blinked, sure that she must be imagining things. The dog didn’t disappear.
“There’s a dog in my diner.”
“That’s Henry. He’s my partner,” Lucas explained.
“Partner in what?” She eyed the massive canine.
“Work, Emma. I’m part of the Sagebrush Police Department’s K-9 Unit.”
“I didn’t know they had one.”
“They do.” He took her arm, led her to the kitchen. Sirens were blaring outside, and lights flashed on the pavement beyond the open door. “Looks like the ambulance is here.”
“I really don’t want to go to the hospital,” she tried to protest as a crew of EMTs rushed in.
Too late.
They had her on a gurney so fast she barely realized what was happening.
She blamed it on her injuries. Any other day, she’d have adamantly refused to be transported to the hospital, but she didn’t have the energy to fight. She barely had the energy to keep her eyes open as she was wheeled outside. She managed, though, because she was terrified to close them. She was afraid if she did, she’d open them again and discover herself right back in the middle of the nightmare.
“Do you want me to ride in the ambulance with you?” Lucas asked.
She looked into his face. He’d changed, but he was still the same Lucas, his dark
