I winced as the nurse sprayed something cold and antiseptic into the cuts on my feet.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I’m fine.” But tears burned, and I bit my bottom lip to keep from crying out.

“Just a bit more glass,” the nurse said and probed, probably gently but it felt like the fires of hell. “Almost done.”

“Uh-huh,” I said through gritted teeth.

“You know that my sister’s daughter is in Allie’s class. Ashley is my niece.” She stopped, glanced up at me.

“Ashley’s great,” I felt obliged to reply. She was great, but while the nurse was clearly trying to distract me, I couldn’t help but think this was really not the time for small talk.

She glanced back down. “My name is Haley, and my sister is—”

“Maggie,” I said.

“Right.” Another squirt of burning cold. How a liquid could set my skin on fire with sensation and yet still feel icy was beyond me. “She gave me a piece of that banana cream pie you made when she had Luke, and it was seriously the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Food.

Now that was something that could take my mind off things.

“I love that recipe.” I sighed. “The whipped cream. The fresh banana flavor.” Haley switched feet, but I barely noticed. “There’s nothing medicinal about it. And it’s so rich. Perfect for a mom who needs a little indulgence after a baby.”

“Plus, she said it freezes well,” Haley added.

“It does,” I said, excited now. “And you can add chocolate chips and a ganache and it’s extra decadent.”

“What else do you like to cook?”

I laughed. “What don’t I like to cook, I think is a better question.” Haley smiled up at me. “I like recipes that are simple and fresh for the most part, but I don’t mind getting lost in something that occasionally needs careful balancing of a bunch of items in my pantry. It’s like an extra difficult Sudoku or something.”

Haley snorted. “Well, I admire you. I can’t cook a thing to save my life.”

“Come over,” I offered spontaneously before frowning. “When I have a front door again, that is. I’ll show you a few things.”

“Really?” She set the tweezers on the tray and picked up the dreaded squirt bottle again.

“Really,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Cool.” A pause. “Last time, I promise.”

I nodded as she let loose a stream from the bottle, mentally cursing up a storm even as I tried to distract myself from the pain by recounting substitutes for sugar in my favorite cake recipes.

“Done,” she said. “The doctor will probably glue some of the smaller wounds, but a few will need stitches.”

I wrinkled my nose.

“I know.” She stood and started rummaging through cupboards, setting out various supplies as a familiar face walked into the exam room.

“Dr. Johnson,” I said, surprised.

He smiled. “I won’t stay long, but I just wanted to come and tell you in person that Rocco is fine. A little banged and bruised, but no internal injuries and his leg is still healing correctly.”

I swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

His hand found mine and gripped tight. He leaned close. “Where’s your husband?”

I shrugged. “Working.”

But I think the uncertainty must have shown in my tone because his eyes held mine for a long moment.

I didn’t blink, couldn’t blink. There was an intensity in Dr. Johnson’s gaze that made my pulse speed up. It reminded me of the way Rob had looked at me. The way he used to look at me.

I wanted that. So badly.

Unfortunately, I didn’t want it from this man.

“Dr. Johnson,” I began.

“Sam.”

“Sam,” I repeated. “I can’t—”

His lips quirked into a rueful smile. “I know.”

The doctor—the people one, rather than the animal one—popped into the room and began peppering me and Haley with questions.

We both answered with alacrity until he sat on a rolling stool and started demanding supplies while engaging Dr. Johnson—Sam—in conversation about his practice.

Haley glanced up at me and rolled her eyes.

I rolled them back, at least until the shot came.

If I’d thought the irrigation that Haley had done had hurt, the shot numbing the bottom of each foot was way worse.

“It’s better if you don’t look,” Sam said, turning my face toward his. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Also, that guy is an arrogant jerk, but he’s the best plastic surgeon for miles.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Justin called in a few favors to get him here,” he murmured, warm breath hitting my ear.

It was a strangely intimate place to be, wrapped in a pair of arms that weren’t my husband’s.

“Which I know,” he continued, “because I called Justin myself.”

I stiffened, and this time not from the shot. My feet were numb, the only sensation I could feel now a distant tugging.

Which was unnerving, but also not the point.

I pulled back, glared.

“Your sister needed to know.”

“I know,” I said. “But not until morning. She’s—she needs her rest.”

Sam raised a brow. “I know,” he replied, saying he knew clearly why my sister needed rest. There really were no secrets in Darlington. “Which is why I called Justin instead. He needed to be aware in case . . .”

“In case what?” I frowned.

“In case whoever went to your house, went to Kelly’s next.”

I gasped. The doctor paused, asked if I was okay. “Sorry.” I waved him on. To Sam, I said. “Why would they—”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time an officer’s family was targeted.”

“Oh.” I sat back, stunned.

“I’m not saying that it’s anything besides an attempted robbery, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

“Careful,” I murmured.

I wondered if Rob was doing just that.