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 closed. “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?”
