park, he slowed his speed, scanning the grounds. He didn’t see Cate, but the movement of an older man rising from a bench caught his attention. His tense posture put Clay on alert, and he followed the man’s line of sight—to Cate and the children.
She was holding the kite, and as he pulled into a parking space he saw the children grasp it. They backed up, and a tingle of apprehension raced down his spine. He set the brake and climbed out of his truck, striding toward the small group as Cate started to run.
Considering her lameness, he was surprised at how fast she could move. His step slowed as his appreciative gaze followed her willowy, jeans-clad form across the spring grass. And the radiant joy on her face took his breath away.
But in the next moment, what little breath remained in his lungs came out in a whoosh as she stumbled and fell. Headlong and hard. His heart stopped for an instant, and then his adrenaline surged, propelling him forward.
Seconds later he was beside her, well ahead of the children or the older man he’d noticed earlier. She had rolled to her side and lay curled into a ball, cradling her hand.
Dropping down on one knee, he touched her shoulder. “Cate?” Her name came out in a hoarse whisper.
She blinked up at him in confusion. “Clay? What are you doing here?”
“I was going to help you fly the kite. I see I’m too late.” She struggled to sit up, but he restrained her. “I’m not sure you should move until we know if you’re hurt.”
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