The Geography of Happiness (Mackenzie Country)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Terry

Spencer shot me a quick look as we took a right at the first intersection. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine,” I lied, then added, “I trusted Zach to look after her, dammit. Her knees are dodgy at the best of times. If she’s done any real damage, then—Jesus, Spencer, I can’t bear to think about it. She might not walk for months, let alone dance. It’ll be months of recuperation. And what about Gabby?”

Spencer was quiet a moment before responding, “Maybe the rain?—”

“Exactly,” I huffed angrily, staring out the side window through the perpetual drizzle. “They should never have been out in this weather. I told Zach how hard it was for Hannah in the wet, especially managing Gabby. He should’ve at least been close enough to stop her fall. He should’ve been right there, dammit.”

Spencer hesitated before pointing out the obvious. “Maybe we should wait until we hear exactly what happened before assuming the worst. Zach wouldn’t knowingly put Hannah in danger. He is a search and rescue specialist, after all. He’s careful as hell, I know that, and I think you do too.”

I looked over and rolled my eyes. “Don’t patronise me.”

But Spencer held his ground. “I’m not. You said yourself that Hannah’s here to push her boundaries and upskill before next year, and I imagine this is all part of it. She can’t always avoid the rain or bad weather, right?”

“She can when she has me to get her where she needs to go,” I replied acidly. “So this only confirms everything I’ve been saying. She’s not ready.”

Spencer sighed. “Terry, maybe?—”

“Stay out of it, Spencer.” I twisted in my seat to face him. “You don’t get to have an opinion on this.”

He flicked a glance my way, his expression stoic. “I wasn’t aware that’s what I was doing.”

I said nothing because he was right, and the rest of the drive passed in a suffocating silence that was entirely my own fault.

Oakwood Medical Centre was a lot bigger than I’d expected—much more like a mini hospital that included a dedicated ER, a small theatre, and a couple of adjoining wards. The quiet waiting room played host to an elderly man with a hacking cough being comforted by a younger woman and a man in a hi-vis vest with his forearm wrapped in a towel.

The nurse at reception greeted Spencer with a coy, overly familiar smile that set my teeth on edge. Spencer seemed not to notice, just thanked her when she sent us through to the treatment area out back.

“She’s still in X-ray, but you can wait with Zach,” the nurse said as she pushed a button to release the double doors. “Go left at the end of the hall and it’s the second room on the right.”

Spencer held the door open for me to pass through first and then followed, his hand resting reassuringly on the small of my back.

“I’m guessing that was a previous conquest of yours?” I asked, regretting the question the second it left my mouth.

“Once, a long time ago,” Spencer answered mildly, giving my back a gentle squeeze. “Not interested in a repeat.” He guided me down the hall and to the left, which was just as well as I’d completely forgotten the nurse’s directions, too focused on the way she’d ogled Spencer like a treat she wasn’t done with.

“Maybe someone should tell her that,” I said snippily, wondering who the fuck had taken control of my mouth.

“I already have,” he answered equally curtly before coming to a stop outside a room labelled H. O’Connor . “I’ll take Gabby and leave you with Zach.” He went to push through the door, but I grabbed his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Spencer. That was fucking rude. It’s none of my business. I’m just...”

“It’s fine.” His smile was quick and reassuring. “You’re worried about Hannah. I get it. I’ll come back to check on you when I’ve attended to Gabby.”

I frowned in confusion. “You don’t have to hang around here all night. I’m fine?—”

“I’m staying,” he answered definitively, brooking no argument. Then he cupped my face, and the touch almost undid the tenuous grip I had on my composure. “Friends do that for each other, right?”

I put my hand over his and drew a shaky breath. “Yeah, they do. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll take Gabby and let you and Zach talk.” He hesitated before adding, “Just remember, Zach’s a good man, Terry.”

I drew a slow breath. “I know he is. I was a dick back there. I didn’t mean it.”

Spencer smiled, then shocked the hell out of me by brushing his lips over mine in the sweetest of kisses. “If Zach is right, I shouldn’t be too long.”

“Terry.” Zach jumped up from the chair the minute I entered the room. He was alone, which meant Hannah was still in X-ray. “I’m so sorry. It happened too fast for me to stop her fall.”

“Let me take a look at Gabby first, yeah?” Spencer interrupted, his eyes on Zach, no doubt warning him about what an arsehole I was about to be. Then he crossed the room to where Gabby lay quietly beside Zach’s chair and knelt down.

I tried to compose myself so I didn’t lose my shit completely, but when I finally caught sight of Gabby’s bloodied right hip, I gasped and rushed over. “Holy shit. Is she gonna be okay?” I knelt at Gabby’s head and stroked her shoulder.

Spencer caught my eye, his smile reassuring. “She’ll be fine. It’s mostly puncture wounds except for a small piece of missing skin.” He indicated a circular spot about three centimetres in diameter on her flank. “Stitches and antibiotics should do the job, but I’ll know more when I can get her on the table and shave the area.”

I took Spencer’s hand and squeezed it, feeling the heat of Zach’s curious gaze on us both. “Thank you.”

Spencer smiled. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m only minutes away if you need me.”

The second Spencer left with Gabby limping at his side, Zach began apologising all over again.

“Just tell me what happened?” I leaned against the wall with my arms folded. Then I thought about how that had to look and unfolded them again. He’s a good man. Spencer’s words came back to me. I knew he was right, but the potential repercussions of Hannah’s injuries were doing my head in.

“We were using the old cemetery to train,” Zach explained.

I blinked. “The cemetery?”

He shrugged. “It’s a great obstacle course and I use it a lot for training. They were doing really well. Then Lorna Newton’s dog, Colt, appeared from out of nowhere. He’s not big, but he’s sorely lacking in training. He’s not generally aggressive, but it’s not the first time he’s taken a dislike to a dog he doesn’t know. Lorna’s been warned to keep him on a leash. I’ve already told the police and council dog ranger, and they’re on their way to her place now.”

“She better get more than a slap on the wrist,” I cautioned.

Zach nodded. “Jerry’s a good cop. He’ll handle it. When Colt rushed Gabby, she moved in front of Hannah just like she’s supposed to, but that meant she blocked my access to Hannah as well. In the ruckus that ensued with the dogs crashing together, Colt swept Hannah’s elbow crutch aside and sent her tumbling before I could grab her. Luckily, Gabby saw Colt off fairly quickly.”

“How could he sneak up on you?” I demanded brusquely. “Didn’t you check the place first? And Jesus, Zach, it was pouring down. You shouldn’t even have been out there in the first place.” I was practically shouting but I couldn’t seem to rein it back.

Zach opened his mouth to answer, frowned, then closed it again. I was being unreasonable and I knew it. Zach did too, but to his credit, he didn’t simply leap to defend himself and thereby add fuel to the fire.

Instead, he drew a slow, deep breath, and chose his words carefully. “The rain had stopped by the time we reached the church. And I did check the grounds, but there are four entrances to the cemetery. If I had seen Colt, yes, it would’ve changed the outcome, but I didn’t. And it wouldn’t be the first time Hannah’s come across an aggressive dog, I imagine? And it won’t be the last.” He raised a brow.

I wanted to disagree, but he was right. “That’s different,” I flustered. “Hannah and I know all the dogs around Painted Bay and I’m usually there to ward them off.” Which was patently untrue since the town swelled to almost double over summer with the influx of tourists and we’d had many a close call. “This is exactly why I don’t think she’s ready to be on her own in a boarding school. She’s too young. It’s too risky.”

Zach didn’t call me on it. He simply explained, “I’ll talk with Hannah about how to handle similar situations in the future. It’s clearly not something she’s practised.”

“Because she doesn’t need to.”

Zach sighed. “Because you’ve always been her eyes and ears, Terry. Now she’s trying to learn how to do that for herself when you’re not around. And working in the rain is nothing more than protocol at this level of training. We don’t get to choose the weather when we have places we need to be. The intention of this week wasn’t to create a protected training environment like she has at home, we discussed that. This week was meant to expose Hannah to situations she hasn’t met before and help her develop strategies to cope. That includes complex weather, terrain, environment, and the unexpected, like Colt. Although, God knows, I hadn’t counted on that one, nor would I have chosen it. And thank God she wasn’t more badly hurt. Or Gabby. But it wasn’t anyone’s fault , Terry. Not Hannah’s, not mine, not yours for bringing her down here.” He shot me a pointed look. “It could’ve happened anywhere. You can’t always be there to protect her.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you on the subject,” I snapped. “You know nothing about us.”

Zach’s eyes flew wide. “I’m sorry. You’re right, of course. I didn’t mean to overstep.” He slumped back into his chair, eyes downcast to the floor.

The room fell deathly quiet and my ranting replayed in my head. Oh god. I remembered Spencer’s words. He’s a good man. I fell back against the wall, shame coursing through my body as I tried to calm the fuck down.

“Jesus, Zach, I’m so sorry,” I finally managed. “I do know that I can’t protect her forever, but I can give her more time before she’s faced with having to deal with everything on her own. I can be a buffer.”

“Yes, you can,” he agreed softly. “But at the risk of crossing the line again, can I point out there’s a difference between being a buffer for her and keeping her dependent to satisfy your fears?”

And there it was. I wanted to snap at his impertinence if only he wasn’t so damn fucking on the button. “She’s only fourteen. Do you know the number of surgeries she might be facing in her future, let alone if she’s done any real damage today?”

“She’s mentioned them, yes,” Zach answered quietly. “And she’s talked about your concerns as well.”

Jesus Christ. How much had Hannah told Zach? Or more to the point, why hadn’t she thought she could tell me? You know why. I suppressed a groan. “Once she starts down the surgery route, there’s no going back.” I willed Zach to understand. “Every surgery comes with more scarring, a potential loss of flexibility, and then there’s the pain. Hannah’s already spent more of her life living with pain than without it. It wrecks my fucking heart, Zach, I...” I trailed off, fighting a losing battle against the tears.

Zach was at my side in a second, a wad of Kleenex in his hand. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her today. I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I wiped my eyes, then disposed of the Kleenex into the bin. “You’re right. It’s no one’s fault. Hannah absolutely does need to learn all the stuff you’re teaching her, I just...” I blew out a long shaky sigh. “Well, I don’t know how to feel okay about this.”

The room fell quiet bar the soft tick of the clock on the wall and the murmur of voices from another room. Fifteen, twenty minutes passed, maybe more, and I wondered just how busy a tiny hospital could be that they were taking so fucking long. A radio crackled somewhere up the hall and a toilet flushed. I was about to go and demand some answers from the nurse at reception when my phone buzzed with a text message from Spencer.

Gabby is fine. I’m finishing stitching the worst skin tears now and then Connor will clean up the rest so I can return to the centre. Gabby can stay here until you know what’s happening. How’s Hannah?

I was about to text a reply when a clatter of wheels had me spinning toward the door. A few seconds later a nurse in her thirties with a blond updo and a warm smile opened the door to wheel a bed into the room.

Hannah.

Zach rushed to help the nurse while I stood frozen at the sight of the pale face of my daughter peeking out from under the covers.

Holy Mother of God. My heart slammed into my throat at the sight of the dried blood seemingly covering the right side of her face from hairline to jaw. The offending source was hidden under a dressing held in place by a bandage wrapped around her tiny head.

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

“Shona, this is Terry, Hannah’s dad.” Zach introduced me to the nurse who looked up with apology in her eyes.

“It looks worse than it is, I promise,” she explained. “Heads bleed like nobody’s business, but the wound is only a centimetre or so long. We’ll clean it up and get it sutured, and by the time it’s healed, you’ll hardly notice it.” She engaged the brakes on the bed, then stroked Hannah’s hair. “I told you Zach would still be here. And your dad’s here too.”

I crossed to Hannah’s side and folded her small hand between mine before collapsing onto the chair Zach slid my way. “Hannah? Sweetheart?” The words rolled roughly from my tongue, like I could barely form the sounds.

Her eyelids flickered open. “Daddy?” Tears filled those blue eyes that everyone said looked like mine.

“Shhh.” I buried my lips in her matted hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay, now.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I wasn’t paying attention or I could’ve grabbed the headstone or braced myself or something. It wasn’t Zach’s fault. Don’t blame him. I?—”

“Shhh,” I soothed, kicking myself for whatever I’d done or said in the past to make her feel like she was to blame for something that wasn’t her fault. What the hell? I peeled her clotted hair free from her lashes and tucked it behind her ears. “It was just an accident, sweetheart. No one’s to blame.”

Hannah looked at me, her eyes pooling with tears. “You’re not gonna let me go next year, are you?”

I opened my mouth, then shut it again, deciding the hell to the no hovering on my lips wasn’t perhaps the most well-thought-out reply right then. I settled for, “I don’t know, honey. That’s a conversation for another time.”

Her gaze shot to Zach and the tears started to fall. Tears I had no answer for, other than a kiss to her forehead and a squeeze of her hand. Then as if she’d just remembered, Hannah leaned over the edge of the bed and scanned the floor. “Where’s Gabby?” she asked between ragged gulps of air. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Spencer is fixing her up.” I drew the sheet back over her shoulder and watched her relax.

Shona patted my arm. “The doctor will be by shortly to answer your questions, but the good news is the X-rays didn’t show any broken bones. Hannah’s knee is intact, although she says it’s pretty sore. I understand she has JIA?”

I nodded, wincing. “She’ll be devastated if this impedes her independence long-term.”

Shona sighed. “She said the same, so I suggest you make an appointment with her specialist when you get home. We’re no experts on that. For now, it’s just the concussion you need to keep an eye on.”

I’d been so focused on her joint injury that it took a moment for me to remember. “Is she okay? What do I have to do?”

“Hannah can’t remember the fall itself or a minute or so after it. That’s right, isn’t it?” She glanced over my shoulder toward Zach.

“She was out for about thirty seconds,” he answered, eyeing me warily. “I did mention she was groggy when she came to.”

I spun to argue, then remembered. “Yes, you did.”

Shona continued. “When Hannah is discharged, we’ll give you a protocol to follow for the concussion checks, but we’ll wait until the doctor speaks to you first.” Shona filled Hannah’s water glass and added a straw before setting it on the bedside locker. “She can have sips of water but not too much. She was a bit nauseated when she came in.” A round cardboard container was put next to the glass and Shona shot me a look. “In case she needs to throw up. There are more under the sink. And there are coffee and vending machines in the visitor’s room if you’re feeling brave—don’t say you weren’t warned. Press the bell if you need me, but I’ll be checking in regularly to do her obs.”

“Okay.” I was nodding like a crazy man and Shona must’ve seen something in my expression because she came around the bed and rubbed a gentle hand over my shoulder.

“She’s gonna be fine, Terry. She’s a bright spark and a strong-willed girl. Call me if you need me.”

The minute she left the room, I grabbed my phone to text Spencer.

Hannah is back. No broken bones. A sore knee and a concussion with a nasty cut to her forehead. Doctor is coming soon. I’ll text you when I know more.

My phone rang in my hand, the sound of Spencer’s voice almost bringing me to tears. “I’m pulling into the centre’s carpark now.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “What about Gabby?”

“She’s doing fine. Connor is finishing cleaning her up. Now let me park and I’ll be right in.”

The sigh of relief when I pocketed my phone wasn’t lost on Zach.

“Was that Spencer?” Zach’s chair scraped back across the floor.

I nodded. “He’s just arrived back here.”

Zach’s gaze lingered hot on my face. “I’ll head to the waiting room and give you two some space.”

I glanced his way, hoping my feelings weren’t as transparent as I suspected they were. “There’s no need to wait. Go home, Zach. I’ll text you what’s happening once the doctor’s been.”

He didn’t look happy. “But what if you need a lift back to the station? And what about Gabby?”

“I’ll make sure they get where they need to go.” A familiar voice came from behind and Zach and I spun to where Spencer stood in the open doorway, watching us.

“I hope it’s all right, me being here.” He looked warily between us. “It occurred to me that I didn’t really ask.” His eyes met mine and the sight of him had me teetering on the verge of tears... again.

Like with him in the room, I could breathe again.

“Better than all right,” I answered shakily, waving him inside.

Zach stood and offered Spencer his chair, his gaze flicking between us, letting me know we weren’t fooling anyone. “Like I said, I’ll get you where you need to go,” he repeated, taking Zach’s seat. “But only if it’s okay with you.” His gaze remained steady on mine, and all I could think was It was. It so fucking was.

“Thank you,” I answered, finding it hard to rip my eyes from his, drinking in the calmness that I so needed. “I have no idea how long it might take though.”

“Let him stay, Dad, please.” Hannah poked her head above the covers. “Is Gabby okay, Spencer?”

The sound of Spencer’s name rolling off Hannah’s tongue set my belly a wobbling.

Spencer smiled. “She’s absolutely fine, all except for the part where she’s missing you,” he reassured Hannah. “I had to shave a fair bit of her hair off, but her wounds are clean and sutured. The bit that’s missing some skin will need covering for a while until it forms a scab, but it will grow back in time. How are you feeling? I hear you have a concussion.”

Hannah nodded. “My head feels like a split pumpkin.”

Which made everyone laugh—a bloody miracle, all considered.

Spencer winced. “Well, that sucks. But you’re gonna have an awesome shiner to go with a pretty impressive story. Knocked out in a graveyard by a rabid dog perhaps? Or maybe attacked by the ghost of a pioneer gold miner? There’s scope for excellent exaggeration there. My advice is to milk it for all it’s worth.”

“Oh my god,” Zach groaned.

But Hannah only giggled, and the clear reassuring sound of it soared in my heart.

“Just imagine what Judah’s gonna say?” I played along and Hannah beamed broad enough for me to almost ignore the dry blood cracking at the corner of her mouth.

“Can I call him tonight? Please?”

I squeezed her hand. “We’ll see.” I turned to Spencer who was still smiling at my daughter. “I don’t know if they’re going to discharge her tonight or not. But even if they do, I’m not sure I want to be too far away from here for tonight, at least.”

Spencer’s brown eyes grew dark with concern. “Then I’ll either stay and keep you company for the night, or you can have the spare room at mine. Or if they do release Hannah, then you can both stay with me. Whatever happens, I’ve got you covered.” His gaze flicked to Zach. “I mean it. I’ll look after them. When you let Gil know, tell him I don’t want him blowing up my phone. You know what he’s like.”

Zach snorted. “Thanks for the cheery reminder, since it’s going to be me who has to deal with him, but are you sure?” There was a troubled edge to his expression. “It doesn’t feel right leaving you here when Hannah was my responsibility. I feel like I let her down, both of you.” His gaze flicked to me.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Hannah rolled to her back and held a trembling hand out for Zach to take. “You’re the best trainer ever. You took care of me and got me here super-fast. I knew I was safe.”

Shit. Guilt rolled through my belly. I’d been so busy being pissed at the accident that I hadn’t even considered Zach’s quick response to it. Or how he’d been there for Hannah when she really needed him. “You didn’t let me down, Zach,” I said with what I hoped was enough force to convince him. “And I’m really sorry if I made you feel like you did. You might say I lost it a little.” I pressed a kiss to Hannah’s forehead. “And it wasn’t your fault either, muffin.”

The smile Hannah returned trembled just a little at the corners, but it was there, and that was all I needed. “Will Gabby be staying with us?” Hannah’s eyes pleaded for me to say yes. “She’ll worry otherwise.”

I swallowed a smile. “Of course. But maybe we should check with Spencer that it’s okay first?” I looked up to find Spencer moving his chair further up the bed until he was opposite where I sat.

“Absolutely she can, as soon as the drugs have worn off.” He smiled warmly at Hannah. “She’s a service dog, right? Where else would she be? By your side is where she belongs, either here or at my house.”

Hannah perked up. “Thanks, Spencer. Can I still see Miller sometime?”

He hesitated and looked to me, and I answered cautiously, “Let’s wait and see what the doctor has to say first, okay?”

Hannah’s sigh was far too big for a little girl. “I suppose.”

Spencer added, “Tell you what. I’ll keep him in the clinic another day and we’ll see if we can make it happen.”

“Really?” Hannah’s eyes lit up and I wanted to kiss Spencer, which was hardly news.

Hannah freed her hand from mine and grabbed Spencer’s instead. “Thank you, Spencer. You’re the best.”

Spencer startled at the gesture but then a slow smile crept over his face. “You are most welcome, young lady.”

I caught Spencer’s eye and silently mouthed the words, Thank you . His answering smile went some way toward calming my hamster brain, and the next breath I took was long and slow.

Zach’s gaze bounced between Spencer and me, a million questions circling their pretty depths. “Well, since it seems you have everything in hand—” His shrewd eyes landed on Spencer, and I’d swear some colour crept into the vet’s cheeks. “—I think I’ll head off, if that’s okay?” He shifted his gaze to me and I nodded.

“Perfectly. We’re in good hands. And I haven’t forgotten you have a date night to get to.”

Zach’s eyes sprang wide and he quickly checked his watch. “Shit. Luke’s gonna kill me. In all the rush, I forgot to text.” He glanced at Hannah. “Sorry for the language, poppet.”

Spencer sucked in a breath. “Better get those running shoes on or you’re in big trouble.”

“Don’t I know it.” Zach leaned down to place a kiss on Hannah’s cheek. “Bye, beautiful. You’re gonna be just fine. Text me tomorrow, okay?”

“I will,” Hannah promised.

He made it to the door before I called out. “Hey, Zach.”

He turned, a tiny frown in place. “Yeah?”

“I am truly sorry, you know. About how I reacted. I owe you a beer.”

His frown morphed into a sunshine grin. “No way. When our kid arrives, I’m going to be the worst Papa Bear you could possibly imagine. No one will get within a mile of our baby without a full background check and ongoing training and supervision.”

I laughed. “Right now you think you’re joking.”

He snorted, then his expression sobered. “Seriously, Terry, I understand. No apology needed. We’ll talk when you get back. I’ll leave Hannah’s gear at the front desk. For you to pick up. Keep me in the loop, yeah?” He shot Spencer another troubled look that Spencer missed because he was talking with Hannah. “Call if you need anything,” he insisted. “And I mean anything .”

I swallowed a smile at his obvious concern over leaving us in Spencer’s care, and it made me wonder just how well they really knew the vet. Spencer could be flippant, sure, but I felt perfectly safe with him in every respect. “We’ll be fine,” I insisted.

“You say that now,” he scoffed. “But you haven’t eaten the man’s food yet. I’ve heard he’s a menace in the kitchen.”

“Get outta here,” Spencer growled, and we all laughed, something I wouldn’t have thought possible just a half hour before.

As soon as Zach was gone, Spencer caught my eye. “I’ll head to the waiting room. I only wanted to check you were okay.”

“No, stay. Please,” I insisted, surprising myself at how badly I wanted him there. “If it’s okay with Hannah, that is?”

She nodded. “He’s nice,” she announced, like that answered everything, and maybe it did. Worked for me, anyway.

“I’m honoured.” Spencer slid down in his chair and made himself at home. A few minutes later when Hannah’s eyelids fluttered closed and her breathing slowed, he quietly asked, “How are you holding up?”

I looked up from watching Hannah sleep and shrugged. “Oh, you know. Insulting friends and generally being an arsehole.”

Spencer’s eyes danced. “Same old, same old then?”

I chuckled. “I’m not usually like this, just so you know.”

His expression sobered. “You’re a father, Terry. Your kid was injured. I’d say you’re allowed to lose your shit just a little bit.”

I huffed. “Doesn’t make it right.”

He reached across and took my hand. “That’s why God invented apologies, right?”

That made me laugh. “Thank you. For everything, but mostly for hanging around and just being here for me... for us .”

He squeezed my hand. “Where else was I going to be? You still owe me a coffee, remember? Don’t think you’re off the hook.”

“You’re impossible.” I stared at Spencer across the bed. This handsome, decent man who’d unexpectedly walked into my life and stepped up when I needed it. “Look at her,” I whispered, freeing my hand from his to brush the back of my fingers down Hannah’s cheek. “I think I actually stopped breathing when I saw all the blood.”

Spencer straightened Hannah’s covers and tucked the sheet under her chin. “She’s a sight, all right. But she’s gonna be okay.”

“ This time,” I reminded him. “She’s gonna be all right this time.” I breathed shakily and watched the soft rise and fall of Hannah’s chest.

“Borrowing trouble isn’t helpful,” Spencer reminded me. “We can only deal with each thing as it happens, right? One day at a time. One accident. One success. One mistake. One goal. One achievement. It’s the same for everyone.”

I looked over and rolled my eyes. “You make it sound so easy. But let me tell you, as a parent, it’s anything but easy. You’ll find out.”

He said nothing, and when I replayed the words in my head, I cursed my stupid brain. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was total bullshit. You’ve already been there in lots of ways. See, I said I was in arsehole mode.”

His expression softened and a sly smile stole over his lips as he leaned across the bed. I met him halfway and he whispered in my ear, “I can handle a fair amount of arsehole, just so you know.”

I choked back a laugh and pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Spencer waggled his brows and I shook my head in amusement. I didn’t understand how he was doing it, but I felt lighter just having him in the room.

Hannah shuffled onto her side but didn’t wake. I repositioned her pillow under her head and gently stroked her hair. “This thing she has, Spencer. This juvenile idiopathic arthritis, it’s a bastard of a condition. It stole her childhood. When she should’ve been running and climbing trees and swimming and all that great stuff, she was holed up at home instead, dealing with years of painful joints. Some kids get it worse than others. Some grow out of it. Some don’t. Many get to remission and some stay in it, some don’t. Some need medications to maintain it and the meds aren’t always fun. Even if Hannah is lucky enough to go into long-term remission, nothing can fix the catalogue of damage already done to her body.”

“Damn.” Spencer reached across and took my hand. “I had no idea.”

I huffed softly. “Not surprising. Most people never even hear the name juvenile idiopathic arthritis. Hannah’s been through a merry-go-round of treatments—medication, physio, cycles of remission and exacerbation, and the ever-present threat of surgery. Joint replacement and spinal fusion are a couple that we’ve been desperately trying to avoid. She’s been walking a fine line with those for years.”

Spencer squeezed my hand. “No wonder you panicked when you heard about her fall. Zach’s lucky you didn’t deck him.”

I shook my head and returned to studying Hannah. “Nice try, but there’s no sugarcoating the fact I behaved like a total arsehole. It wasn’t Zach’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s. And it wasn’t the first time we’ve faced something like this, so I damn well know you can’t always prevent accidents. I don’t want him feeling bad.”

Spencer snorted. “Good luck with that. He’s a touch over-responsible is our Zach.”

I smiled weakly and caught Spencer’s eye. “He’s not the only one, right? You and I walk that road too.”

Spencer returned my smile, those dark brown eyes gentle on mine. “I’ve really tried to work through all that history and move on.”

I raised a brow and chose my words carefully. “Oh, if it were that easy. And I wasn’t aware that running away counted as working it through.”

He blinked, then huffed a soft laugh. “Touché.”

“It wasn’t meant as a criticism,” I quickly added, thinking that it sounded exactly like that. “Just a reminder. In my experience we often simply substitute one obsession for another.”

He said nothing for a second, then swallowed and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I think maybe you’re right.”

The moment stretched in silence as we sat staring at each other across Hannah’s bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. I hadn’t told Judah half of what I’d shared with Spencer, and I still didn’t truly understand what it was about the man that made me feel so safe. I knew I should look away, that I wasn’t making things easier for myself, but something stopped me. Stopped Spencer as well, it seemed, and yet he didn’t look uncomfortable.

“I’m not ready for Hannah to grow up, Spencer.” The whispered words were out before I could stop them, shocking me in the process. “In the she’s-ready-but-I’m-not kind of way.”

“Doesn’t every parent go through that?” he countered softly.

“I guess, but I’m worried that I don’t feel even close, and I should. I should be thrilled that she’s looking at something as formidable as living away from home at a boarding school. That says a lot about how confident she feels, which is everything we’ve worked toward. And to be fair, most days she manages fine on her own. But on a bad day, she can’t even get out of bed without help, let alone get to class or do laundry, things the rest of us take for granted.”

I switched my gaze to Hannah, but she was still sleeping deeply, unaware of her father quietly losing his mind. “To imagine her in a boarding school, making daily decisions without me being there to protect her? Jesus. There’s so much at stake. It makes my head spin. The fear of what might happen paralyses me. And I know it’s not fair to her. It’s not even healthy.” I turned back to Spencer. “But I can’t seem to stop.”

Spencer gave a slow blink, turning his hand in mine and threading our fingers together. “At the risk of sounding patronising, I get that it’s a difficult choice for any parent, deciding when to take a step back—” His gaze bored gently into mine, letting me know he’d truly heard me. “—but especially in your unique situation. I don’t envy you, Terry.”

I sighed and looked to where our hands lay joined on the covers—mine pale and smooth, Spencer’s weathered and scarred. My thumb grazed his knuckles. “But I know I can’t hold her back, either,” I admitted. “That would probably be much worse, at least for our relationship.” I looked up and almost broke at the worry in his eyes. “Not knowing what to do about next year is killing me, so I can’t imagine what it’s doing to Hannah. What if I make the wrong decision? How would I ever forgive myself?”

With the first tear that rolled down my cheek, Spencer was out of his seat and around my side of the bed, pulling me into his arms. He wrapped me so tight against his chest that I could feel his heart hammering against my own.

“I don’t have any answers for you, you know that.” His lips moved against my hair, the heat of his body against mine oddly calming. “All I can say is that you have to trust yourself. You know your daughter, Terry. You know yourself. You know the risks and the opportunities. You’re the expert in all this. No one else. And you’ll figure out the best solution. I don’t have to know you very well to see that you’re a great dad. And don’t forget, nobody’s perfect. Not you. Not me. Not Zach. Not Hannah. No one. You’re allowed to make mistakes, and so is she. You can only protect her so much and yourself as well. Otherwise, how will she learn to trust herself?”

I sighed against his chest. It was the perfect fucking answer.

I stepped back and studied his face—the smooth line of his nose, those chocolate eyes, the weathered creases at the corners of his mouth, his rough stubble, and those tempting lips. “That’s an impressive line of bullshit you have going there, Mister Veterinarian. Do you practise in front of a mirror?”

He grinned like a fool. “Every day. Did it work?”

I waggled a hand. “I was kind of hoping for an actual solution.”

He chuckled and pulled me against him. “Yeah, right. Like that was ever gonna happen. I have every faith that you’ll get there on your own.”

“I’m glad someone has,” I murmured, letting myself be reassured, the strangeness of it still a surprise. You’re getting soft . Warning bells rang in my head. Don’t get used to it. He’s not staying around. I did my best to ignore the voices. I’d be leaving this place soon enough. Until then, I could stand a little looking after for a change.

We were still embracing when the door opened and a way-too-young-to-be-a-doctor man, sporting a blue mohawk, ear gauges, and a white coat, strolled into the room. His eyebrows popped when he saw us standing locked in each other’s arms, but he made no comment as we disentangled.

“Spencer, nice to see you again.” The man shot Spencer an inquisitive look and offered his hand. “And a bit of a surprise, if I’m honest.”

“Hey, Bradley.” Spencer shook the man’s hand. “Terry here is a... friend.”

“Is that so?” Bradley held Spencer’s gaze for a moment, then turned and offered his hand to me. “I’m Bradley Dalton, Hannah’s doctor. You must be her father, Terry. How’s she doing?”

I was still picking my jaw up off the floor but managed to shake the poor guy’s hand. This was Hannah’s doctor? I turned bug-eyes on Spencer. What the actual fuck?

Spencer leaned in and whispered. “Be nice. He’s older than he looks and he’s very good.”

Bradley’s mouth tipped up in a sunny smile. “Yeah, what he says.”

Hannah’s eyes flickered open and she beamed. “Bradley!”

“Hey, munchkin.” The doctor made his way to Hannah’s side. “So, let’s see if we can clean you up and get you out of here.”