Chapter 37
Mia
The creek water sparkles in the afternoon sun as it washes over the smooth stones.
Digging my toes into the checkered blanket beneath me, I watch Sebastian cast his fishing line with an easy grace I've never seen in him before.
Here, away from the hospital, his shoulders have lost that constant tension.
He says something to Bradley that I can't quite hear, and his brother's responding laugh carries across the water, unfamiliar and yet somehow right.
Like pieces of a puzzle finally finding their proper place.
I reach my hand toward the creek, letting my fingers trail through the icy water.
The cold bites at my skin, but I welcome the sensation—something real and immediate that anchors me to this moment, to this place so far removed from the chaos of my life just days ago.
My mind still flashes to Cheryl's still form, to the monitors gone dark, to my own hands pushing uselessly against her chest. But those images feel more distant here, like photographs fading in the sun.
"You look deep in thought," Hailey says, settling onto the blanket beside me. Her dark hair is pulled back in a loose pony with wisps escaping around her face in the gentle breeze.
"Just appreciating the quiet," I tell her, pulling my hand from the water. "This place is so different from the city."
Sebastian glances back at me from where he stands thigh-deep in the creek, his fishing waders making his legs look comically bulky compared to his trim torso.
The smile he sends me is small but loaded with meaning—checking in without hovering.
I wave, signaling I'm okay, and he turns back to his conversation with Bradley, who's demonstrating some complicated-looking cast.
"I imagine it's quite the change of pace," Hailey says, pulling a water bottle from a small cooler. She offers it to me before taking one for herself.
“It is,” I reply, unscrewing the cap. My gaze is still on Sebastian when my next words slip out, "He's different here." On cue Sebastian’s head tips back as he laughs at something his brother says. "I'm seeing all kinds of new sides to him."
"Montana has a way of stripping away the pretenses," Hailey says, her voice taking on a wistful quality. "When I first came here, I thought I'd never adjust. Everything felt too big, too quiet, too... real."
Her words catch my attention, and I turn to study her profile. There's something in her expression—a hint of hard-earned wisdom—that makes me curious. "What brought you to Walker Ranch?"
"A job listing," she says with a small smile. "And the desperate need to be somewhere, anywhere, else." She doesn't elaborate, and I don't push. We all have our reasons for running.
“Do you ever regret it?” I ask, dipping my fingers back into the creek to draw lazy circles in the water. “Coming here?"
She's quiet for a moment, her gaze drifting across the creek to where Bradley is showing Sebastian how to adjust his grip on the fishing rod. There's something in the way she watches him that tells me more than her words ever could.
"It was the scariest thing I've done," she finally says. "But also the most rewarding." Her eyes flick back to mine. "Sometimes the things that terrify us most are exactly what we need."
Her words hit closer to home than she could possibly know.
I think about Sierra Mercy, about the badge I threw at Henderson, about the career I might have destroyed in a moment of grief-stricken rage.
The thought of going back, of facing those pitying looks and whispered conversations, makes my stomach clench.
But the thought of never practicing medicine again feels like amputating a limb.
"How did you know?" I ask, genuinely curious. "That moving here was the right call, even though it scared you?"
She plucks at the blanket’s lose threads as she thinks over my question. "I didn't," she finally answers. "It was a leap of faith."
Sebastian looks back at me again, as if checking that I'm still here, still okay.
When our eyes meet this time, something passes between us, an understanding, a promise.
I don't know what comes next, don't know if I can face the hospital again or pick up the broken pieces of my career.
But I do know I won't be facing it alone.
For now, that's enough to keep the darkest parts of grief at bay.
***
The walk back to the cabin is peaceful. Sebastian's hand brushes against mine every few steps, an almost-touch that sends little sparks up my arm.
We're quiet, but it's a comfortable quiet, the kind that settles between people who don't need constant words to fill the space.
His shoulder occasionally bumps mine as the path narrows, and I find myself leaning into the contact, seeking the solid warmth of him beside me.
When we reach the cabin, the sun has shifted to late afternoon, casting long shadows across the porch. Sebastian reaches past me to unlock the door.
"I'll get some water going for tea," Sebastian says, heading toward the kitchenette. "Unless you want something stronger?"
"Tea sounds perfect."
I notice my phone on the side table, its screen blinking with the blue light of notifications.
I'd almost forgotten I'd left it here—a deliberate choice this morning when Sebastian suggested we join Bradley and Hailey at the creek.
A few days ago, the thought of being unreachable would have sent me into a panic. Now, it feels like breathing room.
I pick up the phone, surprised to see seventeen missed calls and a flurry of texts, all from Laney. My stomach drops as I scroll through the increasingly frantic messages:
Where are you???
Mia this isn't funny. CALL ME.
At your apartment. No one's answering. I'm freaking out.
I swear if you don't answer soon, I'm filing a missing person’s report.
The last message was sent an hour ago.
I talked to Dr. Patel. He says you're with Walker? Call me right now!
"Shit," I mutter, feeling a wave of guilt crash over me. In my emotional hurricane, I completely forgot about Laney. Of course she'd be worried. I disappeared without a word, quit my job, and then went radio silent.
Sebastian appears at my side, two steaming mugs in hand. He sets them down when he sees my face. "What's wrong?"
"Laney," I explain, holding up my phone. "She's been trying to reach me. Sounds like she went to my apartment and panicked when I wasn't there."
His brow furrows. "You didn't tell her you were leaving?"
"I wasn't exactly thinking clearly," I admit.
Sebastian's hand finds the small of my back, a gentle pressure that somehow both grounds me and makes my skin tingle. "Call her," he says. "She's probably worried sick."
"Yeah." I glance at the texts again, imagining Laney pounding on my apartment door, perhaps thinking the worst. "I should."
He presses a quick kiss to my temple. "I'll give you some privacy," he says, already backing toward the door. "I'll be outside if you need me."
The door clicks shut behind him, and I sink onto the couch. Taking a deep breath, I hit Laney's number and press the phone to my ear.
She answers on the first ring. "Mia? Holy freaking shit, are you okay?" Her voice is tight with worry and relief.
"I'm okay," I tell her, guilt twisting in my stomach at the fear in her voice. "I'm so sorry I worried you."
"Worried me? Worried me?" Her voice rises with each word. "I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere. Or having a complete breakdown alone in your apartment. Or—"
"I know, I know. I'm sorry," I cut in. "I should have called."
"Where are you?" she demands, slightly calmer now. "Dr. Patel said something about Walker taking you somewhere?"
"I'm in Montana," I say, still amazed at how surreal that sounds. "At Sebastian's family ranch."
The silence that follows lasts so long I check to make sure the call hasn't dropped.
"Laney?"
"Montana," she repeats incredulously. "Okay, start from the beginning, because last I heard Cheryl coded, you had a meltdown, and you quit your job by throwing your badge at Henderson."
I wince at the accuracy of her summary. "That about covers it. Sebastian found me at my apartment afterward. I was... not in a good place. He suggested getting away from everything for a bit."
"And you just... went to Montana. With him." It's not quite a question.
"Yes."
Another pause. "So it is serious then?"
"It… is," I tell her.
"Oh honey." Her voice softens. "Is it helping? Being there?"
I glance toward the window, where I can see Sebastian's silhouette on the porch steps. "Yeah," I say quietly. "It definitely is."
"Then I'm glad." She sighs. "Just don't ever do that to me again, okay? I was about five minutes from calling hospitals to check for Jane Does."
"I promise." The tightness in my chest eases slightly. "So... how bad is it? At the hospital, I mean. Is everyone talking about my meltdown?"
Laney's laugh has a sardonic edge. "Oh, no. They're way too busy talking about Sebastian throwing Harper against a wall in the cafeteria."
I nearly drop the phone. "He did what?"
"Yeah, that's the hot gossip. Apparently Walker went full caveman on Harper, had him pinned to the wall and everything. Dr. Patel had to physically pull him off."
"What the hell happened?" I demand.
"All I know is Harper said something, and suddenly Walker had him against the wall looking like he wanted to rearrange his face. At least that’s what Chanelle told Odette who told Ria who told me."
The image of cool, controlled Sebastian losing it enough to physically confront Harper is almost impossible to picture. "Holy shit."
"I've got to go, my break's almost over," Laney says. "But call me tomorrow, okay? I want to know you're alright."
"I will," I promise. "And Laney? Thank you. For caring enough to worry."
"Always," she says simply, and the line goes quiet.
I set the phone down, mind spinning with this new information. Sebastian confronted Harper? Physically? I can't even. Ignoring my untouched tea, I head for the door.
I find Sebastian sitting on the cabin's porch steps, his elbows resting on his knees as he watches a small herd of horses graze in the distant paddock. His profile is relaxed but thoughtful, completely at odds with the image forming in my mind of him slamming Harper against a wall.
He glances up at the sound of the door closing behind me, his expression instantly warming. "Everything okay with your friend?"
"Laney's fine," I say, settling beside him on the wooden step. Our shoulders almost touch, and the scant inch between us feels charged with electricity. "She was worried when she couldn't find me after everything."
"Understandable." He shifts slightly, closing that inch between us until his arm presses against mine.
Watching the horses for a moment, I try to gather my thoughts. A gray one lifts its head, ears pricked toward us as if it senses the conversation that's about to happen.
"So," I begin, keeping my voice casual, "Laney mentioned something interesting."
Sebastian makes a noncommittal sound, but I feel his body tense slightly beside me.
"Apparently you threw Harper against a wall in the cafeteria."
His reaction is immediate and telling. His neck and cheeks flush a deep crimson that spreads up to the tips of his ears. He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing, and suddenly becomes intensely interested in a piece of grass he's plucked from beside the step.
"I wouldn't say I threw him," he finally answers, twisting the blade between his fingers. "That makes it sound more dramatic than it was."
"What would you call it then?" I press, unable to keep the hint of amusement from my voice.
He sighs, shoulders dropping slightly. "I may have... physically encouraged him to reconsider his word choice."
"By pinning him to a wall."
"It was more of a firm guidance toward a vertical surface," he mutters, not meeting my eyes.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. "And what exactly did Harper say that required this... guidance?"
Sebastian's fingers work faster, shredding the blade of grass into tiny pieces. "He was being disrespectful."
"About?"
His jaw tightens. "About you."
The simple admission sends an unexpected warmth spreading through my chest. "What did he say about me?"
Sebastian hesitates, and I can practically see him editing the conversation in his head. "He implied your emotional reaction to Cheryl's death made you an unfit doctor." He pauses before carefully adding, "And said some… unsavory things about our relationship."
I raise an eyebrow. "That's it? That's what made you lose your cool?"
His ears turn an even deeper shade of red. "There might have been some cruder phrasing involved."
"Which you're not going to repeat."
"No," he says firmly.
A distant tractor rumbles somewhere beyond the paddock. A chicken clucks indignantly from the direction of the main house.
"Dr. Patel had to pull you off him," I state rather than ask.
Sebastian winces. "That part might be accurate."
"In the middle of the cafeteria."
"Not my finest professional moment," he admits, finally looking at me. His expression is a mix of embarrassment and something fiercer, more protective. "But I don't regret it."
I study him, this complicated man who held me through my breakdown, who brought me across state lines to heal, who apparently defended my honor like some old-fashioned knight in a hospital cafeteria.
"So, you're determined to be my hero then?"
Sebastian's mouth quirks up at one corner, that half-smile that never fails to make my heart stumble. "I was going for avenging angel, but hero works too." He gives a small, embarrassed shrug that somehow conveys more than any words could.
The grass he's been fidgeting with is now confetti at his feet. He reaches for another stem, his long fingers working it loose from the ground with careful precision.
"No one's ever defended me like that before," I tell him quietly.
The muscle in his jaw ticks faster. "Harper had no right to say what he did."
"Still." I nudge his shoulder with mine. "It's kind of nice knowing you'd go all caveman for me."
That gets me a full smile, the rare kind that goes all the way up to those impossibly dark eyes. "Don't get used to it. I have a reputation as an ice king to maintain."
"Your secret's safe with me," I promise on a laugh.
Arm sliding around my waist, he pulls me closer to his side. I immediately rest my head against his shoulder, and breathe him in.
His fingers trail along my side, a casual touch that still sends shivers up my spine. "Cold?" he asks, misinterpreting my reaction.
"No," I say, settling more firmly against him. "I'm good, perfect actually."