Chapter 4

Sofia rested her forehead against the cold ICU door, taking a deep breath. The smell of disinfectant and despair was already almost familiar. The ibuprofen was fighting bravely against the headache, but nothing resolved the knot in her stomach. Ethan Callahan—just the name already meant trouble. She adjusted her lab coat, sank her shoulders into a false measure of confidence, and pushed the door.

Her steps were firm up to about two meters from the bed. Then, her right knee decided to play a trick. It wasn't a stumble; it was a total failure, as if the bone had turned to jelly. She staggered forward, her hand grabbing the bed rail with a dry snap that echoed in the room's silence.

"You're here to scare me to death, nurse?" Ethan's voice was rough and hoarse from sleep or anger—she couldn't tell. He was sitting up in bed, leaning forward a bit, trying to reach a water bottle on the bedside table. The movement had pulled the open hospital gown shirt to the side.

And that's when the world slowed down.

His torso, exposed, wasn't a magazine model torso, no. It was a relief map of hard work. Thin scars crossed the tanned skin, a thicker one near the right shoulder that looked like a bullet or knife mark. Muscles defined not by the gym, but by the weight of fences, feed sacks, and pulled reins. A dark line of hair started just above the navel and went down… well, down to a place the sheet covered, but the view was enough. The sweat from the effort gave a shine to the skin, and his scent was of earth, sweat, and something medicinal that invaded Sofia's space with a force that left her dizzy for a second longer than it should.

Her traitorous eyes traced the path of the scars to the tense left pectoral muscle from the effort.

"Damn, he's really strong!" the thought escaped before she could swallow it.

Ethan froze in the motion of grabbing the bottle. He felt her gaze on him as if she were worshiping it; he turned his head. His gray eyes, normally stormy, narrowed—at first in confusion. Then in a shrewd understanding that made one of his black eyebrows rise.

"Lost, nurse?" his voice full of sarcasm. "The treasure map is further down, but I think that's not the kind of thing you find in a hospital."

Sofia swallowed hard, her face burning. Shit... Shit... Shit...

"Your knee… I… was checking if the swelling went down," the excuse came out pathetic and she knew it. His knee was under the sheet, damn it! "And you should be lying down! Who let you sit up?"

He ignored the question with his eyes still fixed on her, showing a mix of indignation and… something more? Sofia didn't have time to decipher. Because that's when she noticed. Down there, in the area covered by the thin hospital sheet… something was moving. It wasn't a pain tremor. It was a subtle but undeniable erection rising.

Ethan's eyes followed hers. And when he saw what his own body was doing, his face went from tanned to brick-red in half a second. The indignation directed at Sofia turned against himself with an almost physical force.

"What the fuck is this?!" he growled, low and fierce, as if his own dick had betrayed him. He threw the sheet over his lap with a brusque, almost violent movement, as if hiding an illegal weapon. "Damn horny drug you put in this IV!"

Sofia forced her breathing back to normal. Professional. It was just professional.

"It's a possible side effect of residual morphine and stress, Mr. Callahan. Completely involuntary. It means absolutely nothing." She approached, avoiding looking at anything below his waist. Focused on the IV. "I'll check your infusion. You're on vancomycin, right? Prevents bone infection."

Ethan was stiff as a board with his jaw locked, eyes fixed on the opposite wall, avoiding at all costs looking at her or his own erection under the sheet. The blush on his neck was visible.

"All I need to fight is this bullshit and you get out of here."

"I can't. It's my shift. And you're running a fever." She touched his forehead quickly, before he could pull back. The skin was hot and damp. "38.5, I guess. I'll order paracetamol."

He gasped when her cold finger touched his skin.

"I don't want more drugs! I want to be left alone! And for this… problem… to go away!"

"The 'problem' will go away when you relax. The more nervous, the worse. It's basic biology." She adjusted the IV flow, avoiding any unnecessary contact. The air between them was thick, a mix of embarrassment and an electric tension that Sofia didn't want to name. "How's the pain? Zero to ten?"

"Ten being having to put up with you? Eleven." He dug his fingers into the hospital bed sheet, his knuckles whitening from the force gripping the sheet.

"Good sign. If it were a twelve, you'd be screaming." She noted something on the clipboard with her voice light in an attempt to dispel the mood. "The guy who was with you on the day of the accident came to visit earlier. Brought news from the ranch."

That hooked his attention. The gray eyes turned to her, his posture slightly less rigid.

"And? The calf? The bulls in the south pasture?"

"The calf's fine, that's what he said. Got him out of the ravine. And the bulls…" Sofia hesitated, seeing the gleam of hope in Ethan's eyes. "… need water. A lot. The south well is giving less than a widow's cry. His words."

The hope faded, replaced by deep bitterness. Ethan closed his eyes, letting his head fall back on the pillow with a soft thud.

"Dawson. The son of a bitch diverted the water table again. It has to be." His hand closed into a fist, but the strength seemed gone. It was just exhaustion and impotent rage. The "problem" under the sheet, Sofia noted discreetly, had indeed receded.

"Miguel's holding things together. Basic purchases, he said. Rice, beans…" Ethan interrupted, continuing right after. "he's holding the world on his back, as always." Ethan's voice lost its roughness for a second, revealing a tired gratitude. He opened his eyes, looking at Sofia. This time, without anger, just deep exhaustion. "And Ben? Anyone seen that bastard?"

Sofia bit her lip.

"At the pharmacy yesterday. Had a cut finger. And… wasn't sober."

Ethan let out a low sound, between a bitter laugh and a groan. Turned his face back to the wall.

"Of course he wasn't. Why would it be different?" he said tiredly, with the tone of defeat transparent in his voice.