Page 143 of Roughing It

I watch as Blakely excuses herself from the group, making her way to my side. “They were all looking for us.” She repeats the words from earlier.

“Yeah, baby. They were.”

“All morning. Even before the sun was up.”

I don’t say anything, just let her detangle this in her mind. Let her see how the people here aren’t like the ones from Hawthorne, who turned their backs on her when she needed them. Instead, they show up. This is one giant step forward in rebuilding her trust in others, and if I can convince her to stay, the town will prove it to her.

More people arrive, each kitted to spend the day searching for us. Tears glisten in Blakely’s eyes, but she stays quiet. I wish I could read her mind right now. I’m about to ask her what she’s thinking when a fresh onslaught of pain rockets through me, and there’s no hiding it.

“You look like shit.” Bo lets out a loud whistle as he studies our setup. “You’re losing your touch, Hudson. This shelter won’t last another night.”

Blakely arches one eyebrow and stares at Bo, but doesn’t say anything. Bo keeps digging the hole he doesn’t even know he’s in, one stupid shovel full at a time. “EMTs are here. Need ‘em?”

Before I can answer, Blakely snaps. “Yes, he needs them.” To the arriving paramedics, she says, “His leg is broken; I think his ribs are too. They’re at least bruised. And I’m pretty sure he has a concussion.”

My brothers stare at Blakely, mouths wide enough to catchflies. “He’s that hurt?” Gray asks, taking over the digging for Bo.

“Why the hell else wouldn’t I be standing?” Silently, I tag on,moron.A softfuckslips out as the EMTs work to transfer me from the ground to the stretcher.

Gray has the good sense to look embarrassed. Two red spots sit high on his cheeks. “I figured…” He cuts off and tips his head at Blakely.

If I wasn’t about to pass out from the pain, I’d be laughing. Blakely stands, turning the full force of her frustration on my middle sibling.

“You figured what? That I was the problem? I was the one hurt and keeping us from being able to get to town? Well, shows what you know. I did this.” She waves a hand, the chipped pink polish not slowing her down. “Now get your head out of your butt and help them get your brother up that hill!”

One of the paramedics tries to wrangle Blakely long enough to take her blood pressure, but she squirms away, refusing to separate from me. She puts her hands on her hips, the picture of the willful, headstrong woman I love. “I’m riding with him.”

I don’t mention there’s only one ambulance. “They need to check you out, too.”

She snorts and glares. “I’m not worried about me. What are we waiting for?” To Pippa, the sweet woman who works as an EMT and part-time at The Bee and The Bean, Blakely says, “You can check me over after you get him loaded.” With that, she picks her way to the road, giving waves and thank yous to everyone she meets on her way.

A smile stretches Bo’s lips. “Marry her. Whatever it takes, man. Marry her.”

The haze of the meds the EMTs pump into my veins takes hold, and my last coherent thought is,I sure as shit plan on it.

DAY THIRTY-TWO

The air around me is stale, sterile. But something sweet lingers on the edge of it. Something Floral. Soft.

A scent I would recognize anywhere.

Blakely.

“Morning, Bear.” Her breath fans over my cheek, and the slight weight of her body grounds me. She reaches up to cradle my face, but I snag her hand, mindful of the wires and IVs decorating my skin. Bringing it to my lips, I kiss her knuckles before running my nose over the delicate skin of her wrist. Each deep breath fills my senses, drowning out the antiseptic hospital air.

“Morning.”

“How do you feel?”

I grunt and try to adjust the pillow behind me before the ache of the movement reminds me why that’s a shitty idea. Blakely shifts off the side of the bed and helps fix it.

“Hate that I need help with everything.”

The smile that lights up her face temporarily eases my grumpy mood. “Let me take care of you for a change. It won’t be forever. Before long, you’ll be back as the undisputed HCIC.”

I raise an eyebrow. “HCIC?”

“Head Caretaker In Charge.”

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