long has she been unconscious?” asked one of the men.
Thorne jumped at the question, trying to get his brain back on track. It felt like it had taken him forever to find Maggie, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. “Uh, maybe ten minutes?”
The medic nodded and placed a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm. He and his partner moved in a kind of synchronized dance, passing each other instruments and supplies with very little dialogue between them. It was clear they worked well together as a team, and it reminded Thorne of the easy back and forth that developed between a horse and his rider, when man and animal spoke the same language, if only for a little while.
Maggie stirred under the medic’s attention and began to shake her head back and forth. “Stay still for me,” one of the men commanded. The pair of them worked to secure a foam collar around her neck and her eyes flew open in shock.
“What’s your name?” the EMT asked. He gave her a second to respond, then asked again. “Can you tell me your name?”
Thorne held his breath, silently urging her to speak. Was she simply too dazed to answer, or was something more serious going on?
After an endless silence, she spoke. “Maggie.” Her voice was weak and scratchy, sounding as if she’d screamed herself hoarse.
The medic nodded. “That’s great, Maggie,” he said encouragingly. “Can you tell me where you are?”
She frowned slightly. “Mac’s ranch,” she said slowly. “I was working on his books.” She paused, and Thorne could tell by the expression on her face she was replaying her memories, trying to piece together what had happened. Then everything clicked into place, and her confused expression morphed into one of anxiety. “My car!” She tried to sit up, but both medics held her down.
“Whoa,” said one of the men. “Try not to move, please. You may have a spinal injury.”
She let out a small sound of distress that sliced into Thorne’s heart. “It’s okay, honey,” he said, speaking before he could think twice about it. Given the way he’d treated her lately, she probably wouldn’t take comfort from his presence, but he had to try. Seeing her lying on the ground, bruised, battered and scared, triggered a wave of regret so strong it threatened to overwhelm him. He’d spent too much time pushing her away because of his fears—he owed her more than that, and he wasn’t going to waste another minute before trying to make amends.
She glanced over at him, her eyes wide with fear. He saw her body relax as she registered his proximity, and felt something in his own chest ease. “Thorne?” She sounded lost and a little unsure, but he detected no anger in her voice.
It was better than he deserved.
“I’m here,” he said, pushing aside his bitter self-recrimination. There would be time for that later—right now, he had to focus on supporting Maggie.
“Was anyone hurt?”
He shook his head, marveling at her question. Even in the middle of her own troubles, Maggie was concerned for others. “Just you,” he said softly.
The medics counted to three in low voices; they rolled Maggie onto her side and slipped a long board under her, then rolled her to her back again. They secured her in place with thick black straps at her forehead, shoulders, knees and ankles, and one of the men moved to her head while the other knelt by her feet. In one smooth motion, they lifted her off the ground.
“Thorne!” The change in position seemed to startle her—she thrust a hand out, searching the air for him.
He jumped to his feet and jogged after the medics, catching up to them at the ambulance. He slipped his hand into hers and she squeezed hard, causing his bones to grind together painfully. “Please don’t leave me,” she called out, a hint of desperation lacing her words.
Thorne didn’t bother to ask permission; he climbed into the back of the ambulance and slid along the bench seat until he sat by Maggie’s head. Her head was immobilized on the board, so he leaned forward until his face was directly over hers. Her blue eyes were bloodshot, but her gaze was steady as she stared up at him.
“I’m here,” he said, repeating his earlier assurance. He swallowed hard, trying to calm his frayed nerves. “You’re going to be okay.” Was he trying to convince her, or himself? She looked fine to his untrained eye, but the medic’s comment about a possible spinal cord injury made his guts cramp. He didn’t want Maggie to see his fear though, so he tried to give her a comforting smile.
“I’m scared.” The words were no more than a whisper, but Thorne heard them loud and clear. Me, too, he thought. Her confession made him feel a little bit better, as if they were working together as a team. A spark of confidence kindled to life in his chest, and his worries began to fade as he focused on being strong for Maggie.
He squeezed her hand gently and leaned down to speak into her ear. “It’s all right,” he said softly. “I won’t leave you.”
Not this time...
* * *
Maggie shivered slightly in the cool air of the hospital room. The thin cotton johnny they’d given her was practical for the staff, but it did little in the way of providing warmth.
Or modesty.
She tugged the mint-green blanket higher on her lap and tucked the edges under her legs. Fortunately, Thorne had stepped out of the room when she’d been asked to change, and he hadn’t seen her out of the bed since. Not that it mattered. He already knew what she looked like naked.
“Are you cold?”
She jumped a little at the unexpected question. Thorne had been sitting silently by the bed since she’d returned from getting a scan, unmoving except for the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders with every breath. At first, she’d found his presence awkward and uncomfortable. She was not in the mood to discuss their one-night stand. But after a few moments, she realized Thorne wasn’t here to talk. And as the silence in the room had continued, her agitation had gradually faded until she’d almost forgotten he was there.
Truth be told, she was surprised he’d noticed her movement. He’d spent the past three months doing a bang-up job of ignoring her, so why should now be any different?
She bit her lip to hold back a sarcastic response and settled for a nod.
“I’ll see if I can find you another blanket.” He rose from the chair and lifted his hands over his head in a quick stretch. Maggie followed the motion with her eyes, noting the flex and play of his muscles under the blue cotton shirt he wore. All at once, she was assaulted with the memory of his strong arms banded around her, the feel of his work-roughened hands on her body. She flushed, and was grateful his back was turned so he didn’t see her reaction.
His boot heels tapped against the tile as he walked out of her room, and Maggie let out her breath in a sigh. Why was he still here? More importantly, what was she going to do about it?
She knew why he’d come to the hospital, of course. After all, she’d practically begged him to, the way she’d grabbed his hand like he was some kind of savior. The explosion of her car and the chaotic aftermath had left her terrified and vulnerable, and she’d latched on to the first familiar face she’d seen. It was kind of Thorne to indulge
