Page 88 of One Night Years Ago

“Thank you, Emma,” she whispered, leaning in for another hug.

“Shouldn’t you go see how Hunter is doing? I heard he was getting out of the hospital today.”

“You heard?”

“Fine, Barbara told me. We assumed you’d go pick him up,” Emma said pointedly.

Natalie inhaled softly. She wanted nothing more than to go meet Hunter at the hospital.

“Do I have to drive you there myself?” Emma asked, shaking her blond curls.

“You don’t even have a car,” Natalie said, laughing.

“Right. So maybe you should use yours.”

And at that exact instant, Natalie ran out of excuses. Saying goodbye to Emma quickly, she drove directly to the hospital and up the stairs to the room Hunter was occupying. Except it was empty. He’d already checked out.

Natalie’s heart fell.

“Sheriff,” a voice said behind her. Natalie turned to see Dr. Leroy.

“Doctor … Barbara. I’m too late, aren’t I?” Natalie asked.

The other woman looked at her kindly. “If you’re looking for Hunter, he’s probably in the bathroom getting changed.”

Natalie smiled, embarrassed. “I didn’t think of checking the bathroom. He can go home now?”

“Yes, as soon as he’s ready. Ah, there he is,” the doctor said, smiling. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Hunter’s lips curled up in a smile as soon as he saw her.

“Natalie,” he said. His voice was still hoarse from the fight with Ford. His injured eye was finally open again, the surrounding black giving way to yellow. “What are you doing here?”

She knew he still hadn’t fully recovered his vision or the use of his arm and kept expecting to see some anger or reproach in his gray gaze, but he seemed surprisingly unconcerned about his shattered body and his eyes just looked … hopeful. She realized she would do anything to keep that look there.

“I came to drive you to the farm.”

“Thanks,” he said, sticking his hands in his jeans pockets. “I appreciate that.”

She drove slowly.

“Have you memorized every pothole between the hospital and the farm?” he asked, his voice curious.

Perhaps.

“I’m just driving carefully. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me, Natalie.”

There was so much more she wanted to say but didn’t know how to say any of it.

“We’re here,” she finally said, stopping the car. She half expected his mother and brother to come out, but nobody did. He followed her gaze to the main house.

“My mom and my brother are out on a church outing. I begged them to go.”

“Do you need help with anything?” she asked. She wondered if it was obvious to him as well that she was stalling.

“Would you help me pack?” he asked, pointing to his injured shoulder.