I trade Linnea’s grippy hospital socks for a set of plush wool ones, being careful of the bandages on her feet. Though the mostly superficial wounds will heal, it reminds me once again of her courage and grit, and the awe I feel for this woman.
When we get to putting on the fleece shirt, I can’t help my reaction to the bruising on her side. I lean over and cradle the side of her face, resting my forehead against hers. “This should have never happened.”
“I’ll heal,” she manages.
I press a kiss to her forehead. “I wish I could hold you. I wish I could make it better.”
“A strawberry mango smoothie would make it better.” Her lips twitch with a hint of a smile.
I close my eyes and kiss her gently, savoring the plush softness of her lips. “As you wish, Linnea Jaymes.”
Because I drive slowly to avoid jostling her too much, and we have to stop at the pharmacy for concussion-approved pain meds and antibiotics, Linnea finishes her smoothie by the time we pull up to the house. Stubborn as she is, I convinced her to take one of the pain meds. With all the rain and warmer temperatures, her driveway is a muddy mess, plus her feet are too injured for walking, so I carry her—carefully—inside.
“Shower? Please?” she asks as we reach the hallway to the bedrooms.
“You should rest first,” I counter.
“I have mud in my hair and I smell like bleach.”
“Fine,” I growl. “But I’m coming in too.” Though I was able toput on dry clothes from the kit I keep in my truck, a shower sounds pretty fucking awesome.
She rests her head against my chest. “Okay.”
Under the warm water, I wash her hair, lathering and scrubbing gently while she braces off the wall with one hand and tilts her head back. I drink in her dark lashes against her pale cheeks and the petal pink of her lips, her freckled shoulders and the slope of her neck. That she’s trusting me like this is stitching together the pieces of my heart that have been hanging by a thread, thanks to this ordeal.
By the time I get her into bed, her eyes are droopy. “Stay, for a little while?”
Like I had plans to be anywhere else but right here by her side. I snuggle up behind where she’s resting on her injured side, my hand on her thigh, until her breaths lengthen and her body stills.
“Did you get the test results back?” she asks just when I think she’s asleep, her tone soft.
“Yeah. All good.” The message arrived via email just before we left the hospital, signed by someone in HR. Not that I’m surprised, but it’s a relief.
She weaves her fingers with mine. “One more thing we can leave in the past.”
I kiss her shoulder and I’m about to tell her to rest, when she says, “I don’t want to quit.”
“Your job?”
“Yeah. But I need help talking to Keith.”
I caress up and down her hip and shift a little closer to her, so her body’s heat radiates into my chest and thighs. “Done.”
Before my day went sideways yesterday, I printed out IDFW’s sexual harassment policy and highlighted the sections where Keith could use a refresher. I also researched the fine print regarding our agency’s hierarchy, and nowhere did it indicate that Linnea should be Keith’s subordinate. He may have seniority, but their involvement in policymaking and projects is supposed to be collaborative, equal.Linnea can use what I found or not, but I wanted it handy in case she decided to confront him.
She settles a little deeper into the pillow. “Okay.”
I kiss her hair again, my lips lingering for a moment so I can drink her in. Drink in the scent of her, the perfection of her body curved against mine. “Rest, precious.”
Epilogue
I wipemy brow with the back of my deerskin work glove, the soft leather warmed by the summer sun. CJ is digging up the rusted metal fence posts ahead of me while I clip the gnarled barbed wire into sections. He glances at me from beneath the shade of his cowboy hat, a smile tugging at his lips.
I smile back, my heart fluttering.
Dad and his girlfriend, Keo, are behind me, making coils of the wire, flirting like usual as they work. Colton is ahead of all of us, digging up and clearing bitterbrush and sage that has grown around the old sheep fencing, practically running circles around the rest of us with his bottomless energy. Turns out he and CJ have the same uncanny memory for nature facts, and as I clip my way down the rusty wire, their volleying and laughter fills the air.
I spent a year and a half as a wildlife biologist for the state of Idaho. Long enough to see some big changes, including the hiring of a new senior biologist—a woman—to replace Keith when he took an early retirement the summer after I returned to work. Long enough that I managed to change a few key policies. Both accomplishments I’m super proud of.