Page 46 of Nicole's Shelter

“I can’t move my head.”

“That’s just a precaution. We’re almost to the doctor.”

“No. No hospital.” She put up a struggle against the seat belts, her agitation increasing.

“Shh. Take it easy.” He rubbed her shoulder more firmly until she gave up the fight. “No hospital. Trust me.”

She relaxed and a moment later he assumed she’d dozed off.

He couldn’t quite identify why she got under his skin or why he was so determined to keep her safe.

Part of it was his individual code of conduct. He believed in doing what he could do to help people. Another part of it was the job. His boss sent him up here in part to verify Nicole’s safety. But Rick was no fool. He knew, without a doubt, part of his dedication to this woman was deeply personal.

He rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, the memory of kissing her sending a bolt of desire through his edgy system. He felt like a jerk, the woman was passed out and injured. But the what-ifs kept dancing through his mind. They were quick flashes of what life could be—if he was a different man. If she managed to survive the current onslaught of her long-standing predicament.

“Rick?”

He jerked his hand away from her, as if she might know his thoughts just from his touch. “Right here.”

“I—” she hiccupped, her voice choked with tears. “I can’t see.”

“That’s temporary,” he assured her, hoping he was right. “We’ll get it straightened out.”

The speed limit dropped to twenty-five as they entered the town limits. Going so slow was excruciating when Nicole was in distress, but they didn’t need the negative attention of local law enforcement if he ripped through town the way he wanted to.

“Almost there.”

“You always say that,” she said with a sniffle.

“Well, it’s usually true.” Every step forward was a step closer to the goal. The concept had been ingrained during months of training and emphasized on every mission. When the going got tough, sometimes the only comfort was to keep on going.

“And we’re here,” he said, pulling to a stop in front of a house that had to be a century old. “Bart recommended this guy.”

“Bart? When?”

He considered her questions a good sign. “I’ll tell you later. For now, know that you’re safe. Not even a camera on the one street light in this town.”

If they were lucky, the doc didn’t watch the news. “I’ll be right back.” He shut the truck door to protect her privacy and cut off any protest.

Walking to the door, he wondered if he looked worse than he felt. Probably not possible. He knew Nicole’s blood streaked his jeans and stained his hands. His own blood was a hot and sticky mess glued to the wound on his back. Even without the rear view mirror he could guess at the dirt and worry smeared across his face.

He reached for the bell, but the door swung open. Rick faced off with an older gentleman, tall and lean, with wire rimmed glasses sliding down his nose and a crown of thick white hair.

“The message said there were two of you.”

Sharp eyes raked over Rick from head to toe and back again. He appreciated the direct approach. “There are. She’s in the truck, possible neck or back injury.”

“Pull around back. I’ll meet you with a stretcher.”

Rick jogged back to the truck and drove around the house as instructed. The doctor grumbled about amateurs as they transferred Nicole, but when they were inside his bedside manner improved slightly. He did a quick evaluation of her vitals and questioned her before wheeling her deeper into the house.

“She says she can’t see,” Rick said from the doorway of what turned out to be an x-ray room.

“Are you married?”

“No,” Rick and Nicole answered in unison.

“Then be quiet,” he ordered with a hard glare for Rick.

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