A gentle female voice kept encouraging Hayden to emerge from her sleep and the bad dreams plaguing her. “That’s right, open your eyes.”

“Is she okay?” Austin asked. “Hope, what’s going on?”

Hayden roused, trying to tell him not to worry. It didn’t sound good on him.

“Her blood pressure is coming back to normal and her airway is clear. She needs to go in for a full evaluation, including an endoscopy. But from what you told me, and what I see, I think she’s going to be fine. Exhaustion, a stomach full of ulcers, possible anemia, and shock are my guess. They’re going to run some tests and probably keep her for observation.”

“I’m fine,” Hayden insisted, or tried to. It came out as more of a moan.

She attempted to sit up. Austin and Hope double-teamed her, pinning her shoulders to the lush mattress.

He wasn’t having any of it. “Oh no, you’re not. And you’re staying right there until the paramedics come and get you. I’m about to give you a tour of Compton Pass’s hospital.”

“I don’t have insurance.” She shook her head. “Just let me sleep this off. It was just… Oh God, my dad.”

Her breathing hitched once more.

“I know, I know.” Austin climbed into bed and snaked himself around her. “But you have to stay calm, okay?”

“Inhale, slow and deep. Let it out slowly,” Hope reminded Hayden. “You hyperventilated.”

Hayden nodded, causing tears to spill down her cheeks.

“Maybe you should give her some space before you suffocate her, Austin.” The deep, calm voice of a man jolted Hayden. She hadn’t realized there was anyone else in the room.

“That’s just my husband, Clay.” Hope smiled at Hayden, doing a great job of distracting her and giving her body a chance to settle itself. “My other husband, Wyatt, is outside, waiting for the ambulance.”

She craned her neck and lifted her blurry gaze for a glimpse of one of the people Austin had told her so much about.

“Hey,” Clay said as he lifted a calloused hand in greeting, though his face was somber.

“You’re taller than I pictured,” she told him, her mouth completely unfiltered at the moment.

The man shot Austin a WTF look. They probably thought she was completely insane at this point. Hell, maybe she was.

Austin barked out a distressed laugh, then hugged her. He didn’t bother filling them in about how he’d lured her there with stories about them. Somehow feeling safer in the presence of not only Austin but also the man who’d protected his wife against a mob in a bar brawl once-upon-a-time, Hayden was able to take a deep breath, and then another.

“That’s better,” Hope said as she patted Hayden’s hand.

Hayden couldn’t keep up with the flurry of emotions that continued to rain down on her after an already wickedly unsteady week. Shock and grief over her dad, physical pain, intense attraction, admiration and envy of the Compton clan, fear for her future, and now the realization that she was utterly alone in life.

It was too much.

Though she didn’t lose it like she had before, she turned into Austin’s side and let bucketfuls of tears drain from her. She drenched his plaid shirt as he tried to convince her things were going to be okay. She couldn’t even get them to stop when sirens approached and new arrivals crowded Austin’s cozy apartment.

Despite her weak arguments, she caved to Austin’s demands when he insisted she let them take her away for tests and treatment.

At least he never once let go of her hand.

Not even when his uncle Sawyer, the town’s sheriff, appeared at her hospital bedside to tell her that Brenda’s local police had taken a statement that allowed them to pinpoint the date of his disappearance. It coincided with a fatal accident involving an unidentified man driving an unregistered van that matched the description of the one her dad had bought secondhand just before packing his life up for his new beginning. One he’d never made because of her.

After another meltdown, the nurses on staff pumped Hayden full of anti-anxiety medication that made her foggy and sleepy, comfortably numb.

Even then, Austin didn’t leave her alone. Every time she blinked her eyes open through the night, he was beside her bed, his fingers interlocked with hers. The next day, he waited for the doctor to review her test results and formulate a treatment plan to start healing her wounds from the inside out before clearing her for discharge.

He might as well have written a prescription for time with Austin instead.

The man’s unwavering support and presence kept her grounded during some of the toughest moments of her life. He promised over and over that things would get better and reminded her that she was strong enough to get back up again. And again. And again, if necessary.

She added it to the list of things she owed him dearly for—and never anticipated that she’d be able to repay the favor so soon in the future.