“He fell off a horse and hurt himself,” Maisie said before he could answer.
Hayes sighed in exasperation. To Amelia, he explained, “No, I didn’t hurt myself. I don’t have a single bruise, cut, or anything, but Nash’s insurance company requires that when we take a fall, we get looked over by a doctor to get cleared for work again. I’m fine. This is protocol, nothing more.”
Maisie’s eyes squinted, lit with an inner twinkle of mischief. “He keeps saying that he’s fine.”
“Which means he’s not fine at all.” Amelia laughed.
“Ladies,” Hayes cut in with a frown, “when I’m say I’m fine, I’m actually fine.”
Both of them burst out laughing. Either at him, or with him, Hayes wasn’t sure.
Coming to his rescue, Beckett’s cell rang.
“It’s Nash,” Beckett said to Hayes, then lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, Nash. What’s up?” His voice faded as he strode out into the hallway.
Amelia turned to Maisie. “All right, Maisie-Moo, you’ve been discharged. Ready to go home?” Amelia was the only one to call
Maisie that nickname, and as much as Maisie said she hated it, Hayes knew she liked it. Even loved it.
“Thank you, all that is holy,” Maisie replied eagerly. Though her attention soon snapped to Hayes. “Unless you want me to stay with you.”
He lost himself in the concern in her eyes. Christ, that felt good. A little too good. “Nah, you’ve been here all day. Go home.”
Her mouth twitched. “Because you’re fine, right?”
“Smart ass.” He snorted. “And yes, I’m fine.”
She regarded him for a good long moment. Nurse Maisie giving him a quick assessment. She must have finally believed him since she nodded. “Okay. Call if you need anything.”
He inclined his head in response, having no intention to call. What he wanted was to get the hell out of there. The smell of astringent, hand sanitizer, and cleaning supplies were giving him a headache that had nothing to do with the fall. The doctor was being cautious. Hayes knew his body. He hadn’t hit his head when he’d fallen from the gelding that bucked him off. Nothing hurt. He’d barely even hit the ground before he bounced back up. “Next time we see each other,” he said with a smile he hoped was reassuring, “let’s avoid ending up in the hospital?”
Maisie laughed. “Sounds like a plan. Hope you get out of here soon.” She gave him a little wave, showing off her finger that had been splinted, and left the room, followed by Amelia.
Hayes dropped his head back against the soft pillow. Today sucked, and when Beckett returned to the room with a deep frown, Hayes knew it wasn’t about to get any better. “What is it?” he grumbled.
Pity shone in Beckett’s eyes. “Nash said to consider yourself on vacation. Ten days.”
“Fuck that,” Hayes snapped, pushing up off the bed, his cowboy boots hitting the floor. “Did you tell Nash the doctor is just being cautious?”
Beckett nodded. “He wouldn’t listen. It’s a new policy, I guess. Symptoms of a concussion can show up seven to ten days later. His insurance now requires this for any fall.”
“I didn’t even hit my fucking head,” Hayes snapped. He couldn’t sit around for ten days. Silence wasn’t good for him. He needed to wake early, exhaust himself, and fall asleep instantly at night. Silence made his memory clearer. Too clear, bringing back all the things that haunted him.
When Hayes reached the door, Beckett said, “You realize you need to be discharged.”
Before heading out the door, Hayes grabbed his Stetson cowboy hat off the chair and shoved it back on his head. “I’m leaving. Either you’re driving me to talk to Nash or I’m taking a Lyft, but this is happening.”
Obviously agreeing for the sake of it, Beckett gestured out to the hallway. “Lead the way.”
The second Hayes entered the hallway, the nurse sitting behind the nurse’s station called, “Where are you going? You haven’t been discharged!”
Hayes didn’t look back and marched his way out of the damn hospital. Sure, he’d hear about this later. River Rock was a small community, and he knew that nurse from somewhere but couldn’t place her. The gossip train would get ahold of this and run with it, but he didn’t do hospitals.
Within minutes, Hayes’s ass was planted back in Beckett’s truck, and they’d left the hospital behind.
Beckett remained silent until twenty minutes later when they rolled up to River Rock’s downtown. Quaint brick storefronts hugged the street. The little town had everything from Blackshaw Meats, which was a division of the Blackshaw family’s cattle company; to the local watering hole, Kinky Spurs, that catered to the twenty- and thirty-somethings of River Rock; to the animal hospital and the police station all on the one road. Beckett only broke the silence when they’d passed the police station where Hayes had started his career before moving to Denver.
“She’s sweet with you,” Beckett said.