Sweet Hill Homecoming (Sweet Hill 1)

~

“Is he okay? Is Kyle okay?” Tate said, not even waiting until Mia had the door opened to ask.

She folded her lips together and nodded. “Yeah, he just went to sleep.”

She let Tate in and went to the kitchen counter to put some prescription medication away. Tate followed her and caught a glimpse of the label. It was pain medication for Kyle. Poor kid must be hurting.

“What the hell happened?” Tate said.

“He ah…” Mia shook her head.

The day looked like it was weighing heavy on her. Her normally shimmering eyes were stark and she looked so tired. So sad. Seeing her like that made Tate’s entire body surge with some animalistic need to maim anyone who caused her or Kyle pain.

“He got beat up,” she whispered. “A few stiches by his eyes and a couple bruised ribs. And all he keeps saying is how he has to play in Friday’s game.” She ran her hand against her forehead and that’s when Tate saw the water line her eyes. “And he won’t tell me who did this to him.”

Tate pulled her into his arms and hugged her. He had to focus on not squeezing too tightly because everything in him was screaming to hold her. Take her pain.

Her small hands fisted his shirt and she sobbed. “Who would do this to him?”

Tate shook his head. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

He stroked her hair and felt her tears dampen his shirt. He clenched his teeth. So much raw anger flooding him to make these people pay.

“Come here.” He guided her to the couch and sat her down. Cupping her face, he ran his thumbs under her eyes.

“I don’t know what’s going on with him. If he’s in some kind of trouble…I don’t know.”

“We’ll figure it out. I saw that Branch showed up but the report didn’t say much.”

She scoffed. “That’s because he didn’t stay longer than thirty seconds. He basically accused Kyle of bringing this on himself and left.”

Tate frowned. It was hard to think any Sheriff would say or do such a thing, but unfortunately, Tate knew that the Sheriff was struggling in his own way and wasn’t the man he used to be.

The way Mia looked, the way those tears fell down her cheeks made Tate want to physically do something. He felt like a caged animal. He didn’t have any more answers than she did and yet, she was hurting. He couldn’t have that. No, he needed to fix it.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Tate said. “I promise.”

She looked at him like he was some kind of damn hero and her chin trembled as another tear fell.

“Hey, now,” he whispered and wiped her cheekbone. “Don’t do that. I can handle you fighting, screaming and cursing…but not crying.”

She gave a watery smile and Tate’s chest just lurched even more.

“You’ll help him?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” she said and let out a heavy breath as if the entire world had just lifted a little off her shoulders. And if Tate was responsible for just an ounce of that relief, he’d call it a win.

She leaned against him and he sat back, letting her curl up and rest her head against his chest. Holding her tightly, he sat there, trying to figure out what to do next.

When her breathing became steady and Tate looked down to see her puffy eyes close and her hand rest on his chest while her face was nuzzled against his heart, he knew the damn thing was beating solely to bring her comfort.

He relaxed and stared at the ceiling, holding Mia, until finally his own eyes drifted shut.

~

Mia opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by big warm muscles and yummy smelling man. She had fallen asleep on Tate and he had held her all night.