Page 62 of Rafe

He reached for her hand, pale against his own. “I’m tougher than that.”

She let out a short, incredulous laugh. “I always knew you were hardheaded, but to take a shovel to the head and still be able to get up…” She shook her head, her ponytail swaying. “The doctor says it’s a concussion.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Just a few hours. They were keeping you for observation and to see if you’d wake up.”

“I want to go home.” His fingers drummed impatiently on the bedrail.

“I know, but it depends on how you feel.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine! You were smacked in the head—”

Her words were cut off by the soft click of the door. The doctor stepped in, a lean man in his forties, salt-and-pepper hair above a crisp white coat, a stethoscope draped around his neck. His expression was gentle but firm.

“I’ll be the judge of that, Mr. Marshall,” he said pleasantly.

“Really, doc, I’ll do better at home,” Rafe insisted, pressing a hand to his throbbing temple. “I hate staying here.”

“We’d rather not keep you unnecessarily,” the doctor replied, checking Rafe’s chart. “You’re coherent but expect one hell of a headache.”

“I already have it,” Rafe muttered, wincing as he touched his forehead.

“Do you have someone who can stay with you?” the doctor asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” Maggie asked.

Rafe met her gaze and flashed a smile. “Yep. You.”

She folded her arms, brow arching in mock indignation. Rafe felt a sudden urge to kiss her, but he winked instead. Maggie laughed. She turned back to the doctor.

“I’ll stay with him—just don’t be surprised if I bring him back and leave him on the doorstep.”

“Hey,” Rafe protested, then groaned as a fresh wave of pain knifed through his head.

Maggie and the doctor chuckled in unison.

“That’s what you get,” she teased, her eyes softening as she settled closer to the bed.

“Alright, Mr. Marshall, I’ll release you. A nurse will come inwith your instructions and explain everything to you in detail.” The doctor, his expression serious yet reassuring, turned to Maggie. “Make sure you listen carefully to the instructions. Schedule an appointment with me if any symptoms worsen. He seems stable now, but with a concussion, things can take a turn for the worse. Also, no full-time work for at least two weeks. You can resume part-time work if you feel up to it within a few days, but don’t overdo it.”

“I’ll keep a close eye on him.” Maggie smiled, her eyes full of concern.

“Good enough. I’ll send a nurse in. Take care of yourselves.” With a final nod, the doctor exited the room.

“I’m a ranch manager; how can I not work?” Rafe grumbled; his brow furrowed in frustration.

“Just manage the ranch from the comfort of your home,” Maggie replied with a teasing smile.

“You’re a real smartass, you know that?” he retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Yep. Seriously, Rafe, take it easy. Do you want to end up back in here? I already talked with Vanna, and she knows I’ll be off for a while.”

“Damn it. Alright,” he conceded, his voice laced with reluctant acceptance.

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