Page 19 of Healing Hazel
Chapter Nine
Nigel
Was the sight of Hazel running a surprise? Considering the last two times I’d seen her at Rawhide she’d run, I’d have to say not at all. But never for a moment had I ever considered seeing her in a place almost sixty miles away from the Ranch. Add in the fact of the location being the ER of a hospital in Butte, Montana, and the odds had to be astronomical. But even that wasn’t the most astonishing thing about this moment. Hazel was indeed running, but this time she wasn’t turning tail. She wasn’t running away.
She was running straight toward me.
My arms opened to do exactly what I’d promised—catch her. And when she fell into them I again did as I’d promised—I wrapped her in my arms where she’d be safe for the rest of her life.
An ER wasn’t a place of peace. It was a place where people in pain sought relief, fought for the most precious thing of all, their lives. And though I was finally holding the woman I’d willingly suffer any amount of pain for, I knew we weren’t yet at a place where she trusted that this moment was anything more than a Band-aid. That would take time and I was sure I’d not yetwitnessed the last of her fleeing, but I now knew I’d never fail to go after her. To bring her back to this very moment. And one day, she’d know she could finally let the pain of the past go and welcome the future that waited to embrace her as surely as I was now.
My chin was resting on top of her head, but that didn’t hamper my view. When a nurse ran up and laid her hand on Wes’ arm, he immediately turned his attention to her, and then glanced up at me. His brow arched and I gave a nod which he returned before gesturing to other staff who all immediately joined him and the nurse to prepare for yet another person who needed them.
I had no idea how long Hazel and I just stood there by the desk. No one approached us for they had their own crises to deal with. Everything else could wait until she was ready to loosen the iron grip her arms had around my waist. There would be a moment when she’d need a tissue but none of those were urgent. My eyes did drift to the clock on the wall.
8:28 a.m.
I’d love to think that was the minute I’d stopped being Nigel to Hazel and became Master Nigel to the submissive residing with her, but that’s not how things worked. And unlike everything else, that moment still had a deadline attached to it despite her being in my arms. Which meant I only had another three hours and thirty-two minutes to prove I deserved the title she’d need to offer me. If noon came and she’d not yet done so, if she replied with even a simple “no,” then I’d honor last night’s text as I’d meant it when I’d said I’d always be there. But while I’d always be a friend to her, without deliberate and unequivocal consent on her part stating shechoseme as her Dom, that was all I’d ever be… a friend.
I’m afraid it wasn’t the clock ticking that had Hazel finally stirring, but the crash of the doors and the controlled chaos thatcame with a team of EMTs entering the room, one compressing an AMBU bag strapped to the patient’s face in an effort to force air into his lungs, another counting out compressions while a third began rattling off medical terminology that told me time was crucial for this person’s very survival.
Hazel loosened her hold and turned halfway around to watch as nurses and staff performed a dance that had a path cleared of objects and people, instruments, charts, tubing attached to bags, and EKGs changing hands, medical personnel taking up positions routine as breathing to them as the gurney raced by to disappear into the depths of the hospital. It was so well choreographed that I knew within another minute, the patient would be on a table in an operating theater, surrounded by surgeons and trauma nurses who would do their very best to stave off death once again and offer their patient another chance at life.
With the closing of the double doors, I became aware that Hazel was trembling and when I took her chin and tilted her head to look up at me, her eyes were huge, her color almost as white as the lab coats visible all around us. That’s when I knew for sure. She hadn’t just had some bad experience. She’d undergone physical trauma that still had her emotionally locked in its embrace. I didn’t say a word, simply bent enough to slip my arms under her knees and lift her to cradle her against my chest.
I knew the hospital as I’d spent some time there when making the decision as to whether or not to actually build a new life in the United States. I’d been granted both admitting and operating privileges as well. When I had a patient whose pregnancy was considered complicated for any of several reasons, this is where I would be sending them at the first sign of trouble. The Ridge’s clinic was perfectly equipped with both staff and equipment to handle ninety-eight percent of our cases. Porter’s Corner offered further assistance for another percent,but for the one percent of women who would need extensive help to bring their child into the world, Butte offered the best chance of both mother and baby making it home.
Reaching my destination, I slid the door closed with my foot and didn’t bother flipping on the light. The room was dimly lit but not so dark I couldn’t easily see where I was going. I sank down on the couch and settled Hazel on my lap, watching as she curled her legs up as if trying to become as small as possible. I didn’t speak, simply held her close with one arm and used my free hand to stroke down her arm and rub circles on her back until the trembling began to subside. Still, I remained quiet until she gave such a huge sigh it felt like she hadn’t exhaled in ages. When she lifted her head from my chest, it was to blink her eyes. I knew it wasn’t because of any glare as the blinds were almost completely closed. The blinking was an attempt to clear the tears from her lashes. Her hand lifted but mine was faster.
“I’ve got you,” I said softly, using the handkerchief I’d pulled free before sitting. I wiped it gently over her eyes and then her cheeks before placing it over her nose. “Blow.”
When her eyebrows arched a bit, I grinned.
“Even Big girls need to blow their noses. Now blow,” I instructed. Once she had, I sat back a bit and when she took that as a sign to climb off my lap, I quickly disabused her of that idea as well. “And Big or Little, Dom or submissive, sometimes everybody needs a lap to curl up in. Don’t fight your needs, Zellie.”
Her eyes met mine, her lips trembling a bit as she said, “I think that’s what I’ve been doing ever since…”
I’d need to know how that declaration ended, but not right now. Right now, all I needed to do was letherknow she was safe and I was here.
“Babygirl, facing the past is often even more frightening than facing a squadron of soldiers. But when you know there areothers standing not behind you, but shoulder to shoulder beside you, there is absolutely nothing that can defeat you. All you need to know is that you are no longer alone. You will never, ever be alone again. You not only have me, you’ve got an entire Ranch full of people ready to gird their loins, draw their swords and slay whatever dragon has you in its claws.”
She didn’t say a word, but after a minute passed, the corners of her mouth began to lift, the trembling disappeared as a soft smile took its place. “Let me guess, as a boy you pictured yourself as King Arthur.”
I chuckled. “Not even close. Arthur might have pulled the sword from the stone and become king, but he never had the one thing he truly desired.”
“What was that?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
“The love of his life, Guinevere. He might have had her hand in marriage, but he didn’t have her heart.” When her eyes clouded a bit, I traced the ridge of her cheekbone with the pad of my thumb. “I wasn’t interested in all that pomp and circumstance. I was far more like Robin Hood. My castle was Sherwood Forest, my court consisted of comrades, friends, and fellow doers of good. But most importantly, I won the hand and the heart of the fair Maid Marian.”
Her eyes cleared, the color the emerald green of that very childhood forest and another smile graced her lips. “Who was Lawson? King Richard?”
I laughed louder, jostling her a bit as I shook my head. “Are you kidding. Like me, my brother didn’t give a whit about courts and castles and all that stuff. The only king he wanted to be was King of the Hill. The only kingdom he wanted to control was that of the forest. He lived for the drama of it all, the calls to battle, the hide and seek of the chase, the thrusts and parry of wooden swords. From the top of his hood to the toe of his boots, he was?—”
“Sheriff of Nottingham!” she exclaimed, her eyes now filled with glints of gold.
“Exactly, though once he truly understood the entire story, he did consider switching roles to something far nobler, but then decided screw it, he rather liked the role of enforcing the law because from within the system he could also change those laws that were often questionable and against the very people they were supposed to protect.”
For the first time in ages, Hazel actually laughed. “Which explains why he is now Chief Berringer, head of security at Rawhide.”
