“Just for her examination,” Dr. Laster said.
Sage and Carolina waited outside the door. “Thank you,” she said, taking a bite of the sandwich.
“I didn’t know what you liked.” He smiled. “I thought ham and cheese would be better than tuna fish out of a vending machine.”
“It’s fine.” She couldn’t taste anything anyway.
“You can come back in,” Dr. Laster said from the doorway.
Sage settled her in the chair and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.
“Here’s the plan,” Dr. Laster said. “She’ll have an MRI. Once she’s conscious, I want a neurologist to see her.”
Carolina nodded. “Will she be able to go home?”
“We’ll see.” Dr. Laster patted Mamá’s hand and headed out the door.
Carolina and Sage waited. And talked. When her mother was wheeled down for her MRI, they walked along the quiet corridors behind her gurney. Each time they passed under a bright light, he winced.
She asked, “How’s your head?”
“My head?”
“You’re hurting.”
He started to nod but grimaced and stopped. “I’ve got my meds if it gets too bad.”
Even though she wanted him to stay, she said, “You should go home.”
“I’m good.” He took her hand and laced their fingers together. “I want to help you.”
“Thank you for being here,” she said.
“It’s no big deal.”
But it was to her. She wasn’t alone. She had someone to lean on. She wouldn’t mind him holding her until her mother was better.
The tech directed them to a small waiting room. They sat next to each other on the sofa.
“This will go down as my most unusual first date ever,” he said.
“Date?” She looked up at him and got lost in his green gaze. “I like you, but because of my mother, I don’t think I have time to date.”
“I know we don’t know each other very well, but I want that to change.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. “No pressure. I’m here to help.”
He tugged her so her head rested on his shoulder. “Any help or comfort you need, I’m your guy.”
Her body melted into his.
When her mother had first gone through breast cancer treatment, Carolina had been alone. Could she accept his help?
A different tech, female this time, walked in. “Agent Cornell?”
Agent?
Sage straightened but kept his arm around Carolina. “Yes?”
“How are you doing?” The blonde put a hand on his arm.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
The tech giggled. Giggled! “I did your MRI—twice. Just a couple of weeks ago.”
He’d had MRIs? Carolina’s breath rushed out. Did he have cancer, too?
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I don’t remember.”
“Of course you don’t.” The tech still hadn’t removed her hand from Sage’s biceps. “How are the headaches?”
Sage didn’t answer. “Are you here to tell Ms. Castillo about her mother?”
“Oh, yes.” The tech straightened, her hand dropping away. “She’ll be done in a few minutes. Then they’ll compare this scan to her last one. You can wait in her exam room.”
“Did she wake?” Carolina asked.
“I thought she had for a moment, but she’s not conscious now. The good news is that she hasn’t had another seizure.”
Well, that was something.
The tech smiled at Sage. “If you want to know anything about your scan, you can ask for me—Amara.”
“Thanks. I talked to my doctor.” Sage laced his hand with Carolina’s.
She and Sage headed back toward her mother’s room.
Instead of asking why he’d had two MRIs, she asked, “Did you recognize her?”
“No.”
“Why did she call you ‘agent’?”
“That’s what I am.” He hesitated. “I work for the FBI.”
An FBI agent? She swallowed. Yesterday she’d started to ask what he did for a living, but Mamá had needed her medicine. She and Sage hadn’t gotten back to that conversation.
“Why did you need MRIs?” she asked.
He shifted, no longer touching her. “I was hit.”
“In the head?”
“Yeah.”
At least he didn’t have cancer. “That’s why you’re having headaches?”
“Yes.”
He wasn’t volunteering information. They reached her mother’s room. The distance between them was bigger than the hallway. “Thank you for coming. It’s probably better if you leave.”
“What? Why?”
Was he clueless? “You were injured. You shouldn’t be taking care of me while you’re still healing.”
“Hey.” Sage stepped closer. “I want to be here. I...hate sitting around.”
“How exactly were you injured?”
“I hit my head and a bullet winged me.”
Her legs wobbled. “You were shot?”
“Winged.” He led her to the chair and pulled over a rolling stool, sitting in front of her. “I don’t remember much.”
She cupped his cheek. He’d been shot and he’d still come to the hospital—for her. “Will you be all right?”
“Absolutely.” His gaze dropped to the floor.
Was he lying?
Her mother was wheeled back into the room and a nurse followed in her wake, so she couldn’t press him.
“Dr. Laster is admitting your mother,” the nurse said. “We’re working on the paperwork.”
“When will she wake up?” Carolina wanted her mother back.
“She mumbled on the way back to the room. That’s good.”
Carolina took her mother’s hand. “Hey, Mamá. I’m here.” She leaned closer. “Come back to me.”
There was weak pressure on her fingers.
“Mamá?” Carolina squeezed again. Hope coursed through her body like a shot of adrenaline. “She squeezed my fingers.”
“That’s great,” Sage said, smiling.
Carolina held her mother’s hand until an orderly came to take her to Intensive Care. “Thank you,” she said to the nurse.
“You bet, honey. I hope your mama wakes up soon.”
Sage took her hand as they followed her mother’s gurney down the hall. His touch whisked away the worst of her stress.
A nurse met them