to see any more than Jolie did. Whatever her protestations, she didn’t need to watch the play-by-play.
He reached for her shoulder and tried to pivot her toward the door. ‘Let’s get your arm tended to.’
‘I’m not leaving yet.’ Mack looked back at her and she shook her head, her chin lifting, ‘I’m not leaving. You might need me.’
As easy as he’d like to be with Jolie of all people, he’d mistakenly thought perhaps time would have made her somewhat less stubborn. She’d always been this way when it came to Gordy, and Reece had started throwing his weight around to get her to mind him all those years ago when her mother had gotten her back when she’d been taken. That had been the first time his father had ever put him in charge of anyone in the company.
She thought him bossy? Well, she made him bossy.
The vet needed room to work and, knowing very well how hard it was to treat a patient when being hovered over, Reece made his decision. He scooped her legs from under her as his other arm caught across her back, and he carried her out of the stable.
* * *
Too stunned to say anything for a few seconds, it took them actually leaving the stables for Jolie’s indignation and terror to kick back in. ‘Reece! Reece, put me down. I need to stay with Gordy.’
‘You need your arm cleaned and inspected.’ Reece tightened his arms lest she take a mind to thrash free of his grip. ‘I’m done talking about it. Mom will have first-aid supplies in her RV.’
‘No. What if they decide to put him down while I’m gone? He needs an advocate. He needs me there to promise to take care of him. See him through this again. I know he can heal.’ She twisted, testing his hold, and then locked onto him with a baleful glare. ‘Please.’ The word didn’t go well with the glare or the tone.
‘It won’t take long.’
‘It will take five minutes to walk to your mom’s RV. If you must have your way, my trailer is closer!’ As the words tumbled out, she realized what would convince him. ‘I have all the medical supplies anyway, I’m the EMT on staff. And I won’t fight you if you go there and we do this fast. Or just let me go do it myself and—’
‘You’re an EMT?’ He stopped walking and looked down at her, his eyes going from hers to her mouth long enough to distract her. Kissing...would be bad.
Don’t look at his mouth. ‘Can’t you walk and talk at the same time?’ Jolie barked at him, startling his gaze back to hers. ‘I am an EMT, yes.’ With the stable now officially out of sight, the firm heat of his big body and the prospect of being alone with Reece began to scare her more than Gordy’s plight. One crisis at a time, that’s all she could deal with. Not knowing what she might say or how she might react when she got her emotions sorted out? Well, that could cause another crisis. ‘Put me down and let me clean it myself, or start walking. Don’t just stand here while they might be making decisions without me!’
‘Didn’t you have to leave the circus to attend classes to become and EMT?’ What the hell? Why did he care so much about this?
‘Do you see my face? This is the face of someone who is freaking out. Put me down or I swear I will belt you with my broken arm...which isn’t broken...’
Reece scowled, but he started walking again and she almost relaxed. At least she stopped gritting her teeth.
‘I took a course over the summer when we were between seasons.’
It figured that he’d focus on her dislike of the outside world, like that was important right now. She could do things outside the circus, she just didn’t care to. When the circus off-seasoned at Bohannon Farm, as it did every year, it was like living at the circus. The only difference with the summer she’d gone to school had been that she’d had to spend time with a bunch of possibly dangerous weirdos who’d thought mowing the lawn every Saturday, frequenting the mall, and driving an SUV was something to brag about. ‘My trailer is that way.’ She pointed with her good arm, and he veered off, following the directions she supplied.
Within two minutes she was inside her cozy little home. ‘There’s supplies in the skinny cabinet above the sink.’
Reece put her down in front of the sink and the first thing he did was wash his hands. ‘Paper towels?’
She gestured to the other side of the counter and then opened the cabinet to start getting out supplies with her good arm, then thought better of it and stuck the bad one under the faucet. It would hurt, but if she was going to have pain she’d either control it or be the one in control of inflicting it.
Number-one rule or dealing with Reece? Don’t let him hurt her again. Even if it was that for-her-own-good kind of hurt.
No, especially the for-her-own-good kind of hurt. She’d had enough of that, thank you very much.
‘This doesn’t look good,’ he muttered, as he wrapped his hand around her wrist to take control of the flow of water over the wound. In that second she forgot all about her fear for Gordy and about the pain. She even forgot about how angry she was at him for what he was about to do to them all. Skin-to-skin contact was more potent than being carried, especially when it reminded her of how big he’d gotten. Hadn’t he supposed to have been full grown when he’d gone off to school? When did men stop getting bigger? Was he still growing? This was ridiculous.
Her chest ached when she looked up at him. ‘You’re too tall. Makes my neck hurt.’ She pretended that was where the pain was. It was better than give in to the urge to press against him and lean into the strength she’d seen in action. Give in to the urge to keep forgetting the bad things. Soak in the comfort she knew waited in his arms.
Stupid.
That should be rule number two—don’t let Reece comfort her ever again.
She pulled her arm from under the water and ripped a fresh paper towel from the roll to blot at it, then applied pressure to staunch the blood that started flowing again. The ache deep in her arm had subsided but it surged back to life when she put pressure on it. If she mentioned that, he’d have her at the emergency room faster than she could say, ‘Don’t put me to sleep, it’s just a broken arm.’ It’d be her front left leg if she were a quadruped, mirroring Gordy’s injury. Fate’s twisted sense of humor...
He caught her arm again and directed it under the counter light where he could examine the bite. It was well on its way to bruising and there were several ugly punctures and a shallow gash.
‘It doesn’t need stitches. There are a couple of punctures that I might put a stitch or two into, but if you have butterflies, that can hold for now.’ He watched her, his voice having lost that edge of irritation as soon as he’d gotten his way. His mouth hadn’t got the news that he was less irritated, though. His lips pressed together, hard and cranky. ‘Probably better anyway, in case an infection does start up—which happens way more often in punctures than cuts, you realize. And the reason we should have gotten this treated faster.’
He unfurled his fingers from her arm and her thinking cleared a little. She needed more of that. ‘You know, I can do the medicine and bandaging. You visit your mom. I need...I need you to go and I can take care of this myself.’ Him going would help. It had to help.
‘I’m almost done.’ The way he no longer met her eyes said that he felt something at least. It might be a ghost of the connection that they’d once had, but he still felt something.
‘I don’t care if you’re almost done. I want you to be somewhere else. Somewhere I’m not. I will finish up and then go back to the stables. You’re messing everything up.’ Her voice rose as she spoke, reaching to near shrillness at the end. ‘Because...you’re still...’
‘You can be calm if you want to be calm.’ He sure sounded calm. But then she remembered—he didn’t really care about them. This was just Doctor Man, who lived to treat patients. Or something.
‘I’m trying to