Daddy's Sweet Girl (Montana Daddies 3)

That was a definite way to lose more than your fingers and toes. A shudder rocked her body.

“It’s okay, Abby. You’re safe now,” Kent reassured her.

If only that was true.

“I’m going to go and talk to Gray again. You got this?” Ed asked.

“Yeah, I got this.” Confidence filled Kent’s voice.

“I can take Abby home—”

Kent turned to Ed. “I got this, Ed.”

His firm tone sent a shudder up her spine. He immediately turned back to her.

“Easy, sweet girl. Everything is okay now. You really should get these hands cleaned.”

“No,” she whispered.

He gave her an incredulous stare. “No?”

She peeked over at the paramedic and just shook her head. Her hand trembled in his.

“It’s him or me, little one.”

Little one? Okay, she’d been called a lot of names over the years that alluded to her height. Shorty, pipsqueak, shrimp, small fry, midget. The list went on. But never little one. And certainly, never said in such a warm voice.

“I can do it myself.”

“Now, those weren’t your choices, were they?” That core of steel was back and her heart leaped into her throat. The paramedic or him? Seriously? Those were her choices? Bad enough he was touching her now, much more and she thought she might self-combust.

“Kent, Eden needs to go to the hospital and get checked out,” the other guy told him.

“I’m not going to the hospital, Zeke,” Eden stated.

Zeke stood, arms folded across his chest, the look on his face intimidating as hell. If Abby was Eden, she would have already capitulated, unable to take the pressure of such a glare. But Eden was matching his scowl with her own, obviously determined not to back down.

“Eden,” Kent said in a low voice. “You could have broken ribs.”

“They’re not broken. I know what broken ribs feel like, remember? They’re just bruised and there ain’t nothing that can be done for them either way. I’m not going to the hospital.”

Kent stood, stared at his sister thoughtfully. Then he turned to Zeke. “Take her to Doc.”

“Chief,” Zeke said in a warning voice.

Kent’s face morphed into that cold mask once more. “Take her home to Doc.”

“Where are you going?” Eden asked.

“I’m taking Abby home. I’ll take care of her.”

I’m taking Abby home. I’ll take care of her.

She should protest, but when was the last time someone had taken care of her?

“Zeke, take Eden home in her car. I’ll take my truck. Make sure she gets checked over by Doc.”

“And Clint?” Zeke asked in a stiff voice. “We telling him that his sister was at a dive bar and got accosted by two bikers?”