“Neither of you should drive. I’ll drive you both,” the woman insisted.

Lainie inhaled a deep breath. She stepped away from the woman and offered her a shaky smile. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Marion Basham.”

“Thank you, Marion, for all your help. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, a ride to the hospital would be appreciated.”

“No trouble at all. My car is close and I’ll get you there in a jiffy.”

Marion didn’t chatter beyond asking the basics. Lainie was grateful for the buffer between her and Kyle. It would’ve been hell on her nerves to rehash the accident—as she knew Kyle was apt to do.

At the emergency entrance, Lainie thanked Marion profusely, which Marion waved off with the typical ranch woman’s response, “I was glad to help.”

The place wasn’t bustling like most big-city hospitals. Lainie wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or a bad sign. The nurse behind the desk took one look at Kyle cradling his arm and inquired, “Broken bone?”

“No. We ain’t here about this. Has Hank Lawson, the bullfighter injured at the rodeo arena, been checked in yet? He came by ambulance.”

Her eyes turned sharp and businesslike. “Who are you?”

“We’re his family.”

“He’s waiting for the doctor. If you want to have a seat, I’ll let his nurse know you’re here.”

“Is he all right?” Lainie blurted, even when she knew they wouldn’t tell her a damn thing.

“I’m sorry, I can’t give you that information. Like I said, the waiting room is right over there.”

“Thanks.” Lainie gave her name and Kyle’s name and stood by the desk, trying to see down the hallway.

“Come on,” Kyle said, tugging her away with his left hand.

After they sat, she faced him and pointed at his arm. “Did the medics check that out?”

“They weren’t concerned about me at all.” At Lainie’s stark expression, he squeezed her hand. “I meant—”

“I know what you meant. You should get that looked at.”

“So do it. Ain’t like you’re doin’ nothin’ else right now.”

“You are such a pain in the ass sometimes.” But Kyle knew how to keep her mind occupied. “Where’s it hurt?”

“The better question is, Where don’t it hurt?” he quipped. “If I woulda measured it before the ride and now after, I’d bet money I gained a good two inches of length.”

She gently moved his thumb back and forth. “Excessive pain here?”

“Nope. Mostly above where the wrist brace ended.”

“Issues with the shoulder socket? Feel like the muscles are torn? Did anything pop?”

“Not that I recall. I was trying to keep fluid so the bull didn’t rip my arm clean off.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t.” She poked a couple more spots and was satisfied when he didn’t react with pain. “My advice is—”

“Rest, ligament cream, and ibuprofen every four hours,” they finished in unison.

Lainie muttered, “A smart-ass as well as a pain in the ass.”

“This ain’t my first rodeo, sugar. I’ve heard that advice a time or twenty.”

Silence floated between them as the minutes ticked by.

“Hank saved my life.”

“I know.”

“I was so tired from trying to break free that falling in the dirt and letting that motherfucker stomp me didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Now Hank is in there, God knows how bad—”

“Lainie Capshaw. Please come to the front desk.”

Her heart pounded. Fear lodged in her throat. Dread lodged in her gut, making the trip to the front desk excruciatingly long. At the kiosk she choked out, “I’m Lainie Capshaw,” to the young female nurse who’d paged her.

“Please come with me,” she said brusquely.

“What’s going on?”

The nurse, who was three inches shorter than Lainie’s five foot four, stopped abruptly. “Mr. Lawson is refusing any treatment until he speaks to you.”

“Hank’s awake?”

“Awake and unreasonable. Maybe you can talk some sense into the man, since he demands to see you.” Her ponytail bobbed as Lainie trailed behind her down the corridor. She motioned for Lainie to wait.

A privacy sheet separated the exam areas. The nurse snapped, “Mr. Lawson. Lie down. Right now. If I see you sitting up again, I’ll restrain you.”

“Try it,” Hank snarled.

Lainie ripped the privacy sheet back so fast the metal hangers sounded like a zipper.

Oh, God. There he was. Pissed off. Wearing a flimsy hospital gown, the front open to reveal his chest. A sheet twisted around his lower half. His bare feet dangled off the side of the hospital bed, giving him a childlike vulnerability. Her gaze landed on his chest. The bruised sternum stood out in stark misery.

She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. She felt Hank’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t tear her focus away from his injury.

“Lainie. Baby. Look at me.”

Her tears fell unchecked.

“Look at me. Only in my eyes.”

Somehow she lifted her gaze to his face.

“That’s it. Just look in my eyes. Let me prove to you I’m okay.”

“I thought—”