Page 4 of Cherished By the Fearless Mountain Man

I sit on the edge of the couch, angling myself so I can get to his leg.He shifts slightly, giving me enough room, and I do my best not to notice how close my knee is to his thigh.

Focus, Willa.This is wound care.Not mountain man appreciation hour.

I set my nursing bag on the floor beside me and pull out a fresh pair of gloves, gauze, saline, and tape.

“All right, let’s take a look,” I say, more to myself than to him.

Brock doesn’t respond.He watches me with that unreadable look in his eyes, like he’s sizing me up.It feels oddly intimate to be watched by him like this, but for some reason, I don’t mind.

I gently peel back the existing dressing.It’s not terrible, but it’s ready to be changed.The wound is deep and fresh.The stitches are clean, but the edges are still red and angry, as expected.This isn’t the kind of wound that heals in a day.

“How’s the pain?”I ask as I carefully clean around the area with saline.

He shrugs again.“Fine.”

Of course.A man like him gets his leg sliced open by a chainsaw and calls itfine.

“Well, it looks like it’s healing okay,” I say.“But you’re not out of the woods.You’re still at risk for infection, and you’re not supposed to be putting weight on it, remember?”

“I remember,” he mutters, sounding gruff.

“I’m going to apply a new dressing.This might sting a little,” I warn.

But he doesn’t even flinch.Wow.He’s surely living up to his mountain man image.I guess it’s only normal.A man who yields chainsaws for a living is probably tough as nails.

As I press the clean gauze into place and tape it down, I smile.Tending a wound and helping someone heal is what I love about my job.Even if my patient is a stubborn, broody lumberjack who doesn’t like it that he needs help from someone.

“There,” I say once I’m done.“Good as new.Well, close enough.”

He glances down at the bandages, then looks back at me.“Thanks.You from around here?I’m asking because I haven’t seen you in town, and trust me, I’d remember.”

My heart skips a beat at his words.Is he flirting with me or stating the facts?

“I moved here last month.This is my second week as a home nurse.Still learning.One grumpy patient at a time,” I say with a wink.

He grunts, but his mouth twitches.It’s not a smile, but it’s close.

“You always this grumpy?”I ask to lighten the mood.

He arches an eyebrow, and for a second, I’m worried I’ve crossed a line.

But then he speaks.“No.I’m usually the one teasing and joking around.But this leg wound’s got me going crazy.I hate being cooped up in here.I feel useless.Going out of my damn mind.”

“Didn’t your accident happen yesterday?”I ask.

He shrugs.“I never sit around and do nothing for a day.Not even when I’m hurt.I usually limp around if I have to.But I can’t with this,” he says, gesturing to his leg.

I put my supplies away and smile at him.“I can help you with food or fetch you a drink if you want?I have a few minutes before I need to head to my next patient.”

He shakes his head.“I’m fine.But thanks.”

“You sure?I make a good cup of coffee.”

His eyes show hesitation, but then he shakes his head again.“I’m all set.”

I get up, ready to head out.I grab my bag and tell him goodbye, but before opening the door, I turn and give him a stern look.“Don’t try to do anything by yourself, okay, Brock?It’s not good for your wound.And when it doesn’t heal properly, you won’t be looking at weeks of recovery, but months.Got it?”

He gives me a salute, and I finally see a smile on his lips.“Got it, Nurse Willa.”

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