“Are you okay?” I knelt beside Grace, pushing her soft blond hair out of her face. She was sti like a board and covered in dirt. Her lids slowly opened, revealing those blue, blue eyes—now clouded with confusion.
She winced when she tried to sit up.
“Careful. at was a hell of a fall.” I gently pulled her into a sitting position and ran my hand across her cheek.
She turned her head away from it. “Owww.” Her eyes struggled to stay open.
“We should get you to the clinic and have Doc check on you to make sure you’re all right. You might have a concussion.”
“No, really. I’m ne.”
I pulled her chin up and looked her in the eyes. “Grace, I am taking you to the doctor. ere’s no sense in acting tough.”
She didn’t say no but her eyes did. She was a stubborn woman, which is also what I liked about her. I enjoyed being challenged. It made life worth living. I helped Grace to her feet, and she winced again, putting her hand on her lower back and rubbing her butt. “Owww.”
“Looks like you need to be carried.” I picked her up in one fell swoop before she could resist.
“Put me down. I can walk,” she argued, but there was the faintest smile on her face so I knew she wasn’t serious.
“Now’s not the time to be stubborn, Grace.” I looked back at George and
Gretchen and made a click, click with my mouth. ey followed, in step with each other.
ey always listened well so I don’t know why Gretchen freaked out the way she did.
I made my way along the bank, carrying Grace in my arms. She was light, and I rather liked having her this close to me, thankful, for just a moment, that Gretchen had bucked her.
“You’re not seriously carrying me all the way?” She raised an eyebrow. e sun highlighted her button nose.
“I most certainly am. I’ll carry you around for the next six days if I have to.” A small laugh escaped her mouth, and she rested her head on my shoulder.
I felt her body nally relax in my arms. “You smell nice, Calvin,” Grace said, looking up at me through them long eyelashes of hers.
“I think that fall might have rattled something loose and messed with your
sense of smell,” I joked.
When we reached my truck, I gently set her down beside it and opened the passenger door for her. Grace stood in front of me, her hands resting on my chest to steady herself.
“I’m going to put the horses away quick, and then I’m taking you to the
clinic.”
She let her ngers slither down my chest and stomach and then she brought them to her side. I thought she was going to protest, but she just nodded instead. She knew she didn’t have a choice.
 |
 |
Grace was seated on the examination table, dgeting with her ngers and
stirring her dangling legs. She seemed nervous, but I supposed a doctor’s o ce wasn’t the most comfortable place to be, especially on vacation. Dr. Reed stuck up his pointer nger and moved it in front of Grace’s face, asking her to follow it with her eyes. I had known Doc all my life. He was a short man, now in his sixties with a comb-over to cover up his bald spot. I think he thought he was pulling it o , but it looked like a bird’s nest was perched on top of his head. I’d never tell him that though. After all, he was the only decent doctor in nearly a hundred miles.
“Do you know what you were doing before you hit your head?” he asked.
“Horseback riding.”
He looked to me for con rmation, and I nodded.
Dr. Reed picked up his clipboard and jotted down some notes. “Do you know what day of the week it is, Grace?”
She looked around the room and a blank stare came over her.
“She’s on vacation, Doc. No one knows what day it is when they’re on vacation.”
He chuckled. “ at’s true. It’s ursday, in case you were wondering.” Grace smiled tightly.
“What’s your full name?” he asked.
She squinted her eyes like she was trying to conjure up the answer, and a pang of worry ashed through me. Dr. Reed paused his note-taking and studied her. “You do know your name, don’t you?”
Doc shot me a worried look and pulled a penlight from his front pocket. He shined the light from the outer corner of each eye to the inside. Grace squinted but kept them open.
“Grace Evans,” she blurted out like she had just woken from a trance.
“Your pupils responded quickly to the light, so that’s a good sign,” he said, pocketing the penlight. “Where do you live?”
She hesitated again, looking up toward the ceiling, searching for the right answer.
Dr. Reed scribbled down more notes.
“New York City.”
“All right, good. Any dizziness or nausea?” She shook her head.
“Hear any ringing in your ears?” “No,” she said.
Dr. Reed tilted his head. “Can you tell me the three words I asked you to remember when you rst sat down on this examination table?”
“Red, house, sh,” Grace said without hesitation. He nodded. “Very good.”
“I’ll be honest, Doc, I didn’t remember them myself,” I joked.
“Well, we’ll have to get you up on this examination table next then,” he said with a laugh.
Grace cracked a smile.
“I didn’t hit my head though.”
“I’ve known you all your life, Calvin. No doubt in my mind that you got some screw loose up there,” Dr. Reed teased. “Let me have a quick look at your lower back,” he said to Grace.
She pulled up her shirt just enough for him to have a look. He pressed on the skin along her spine and then pulled her shirt back down, retaking his place in front of her.
“You’ve got some swelling and bruising on your back, so you’ll want to ice it and take Tylenol for the pain. As far as your head goes, you have a mild concussion. I’m a bit worried because of some of your delayed responses, so to be safe I’d suggest an MRI to ensure there’s no brain damage.” Dr. Reed pursed his lips together and capped his pen.
“Brain damage?” Grace asked. Her eyes bounced from the doc to me and back to him again.
“Although unlikely, I like to err on the side of caution when it comes to head injuries.”
“No, I’d rather not,” she replied. “I feel ne.”
“Is an MRI necessary, Doc?” I asked.
It was clear Grace didn’t want one, so I wanted her to know I was on her side . . . I’d always be on her side.
“It’s my professional opinion, but it is your choice, Grace.”
She hopped down from the exam table. “ ank you, Dr. Reed, but really, I feel ne.”
Dr. Reed raised an eyebrow. “Okay. You’ll want to take it easy then. Like I said, Tylenol and ice. If you have any nausea, vomiting, extreme fatigue, or anything like that, please call me right away.”
“I will,” she said.
“Hopefully, you should be feeling good as new in a day or two. But in the meantime, no driving.”
Grace’s eyes ickered with worry, but she thanked the doctor anyway. “Oh, Calvin,” he said, looking at me.
“Yeah, Doc.”
“A nice massage would do her good.” Dr. Reed winked at Grace, and she smiled back.
He patted me on the shoulder with a smirk. Doc was still just as sharp and smooth as he was in his forties.
“You can see Patsy up at the front to handle payment.” He gestured to the
door. “It was great meeting you, Grace, and I hope you get to enjoy the rest of your time here.”
Dr. Reed looked to me. “And it’s always a pleasure seeing you, Calvin.” He gave a rm handshake. “You take good care of her.”
“I will, and thanks, Doc.”
Patsy, a petite woman in her sixties with thin lips and curly hair, sat at the front desk, knitting something out of navy blue yarn. I had known her since I was a kid and aside from the gray hair, she hadn’t changed.
“Hey, Calvin. Everything okay?” Patsy asked, setting down her knitting needles. She glanced at me and then at Grace, who looked a little o . I couldn’t tell if she was dazed or just worried about the doc’s orders to take it easy the
next couple of days.
“Yeah. Just a mild concussion,” I said.
“ at’s good—well, not good. But better than . . . You know what I mean,” Patsy said with a nod. “I’ll just need your insurance card then, sweetheart.” She smiled warmly.
Grace glanced down at her feet and then back at Patsy. “I don’t have my purse with me. I left it back at the ranch.”
“Well, that’s all right. Just write down the insurance company and your information, and I can contact them to submit your claim.” Patsy held out a pad of paper and a pen. Grace took the items from her and wrote out her full name then stopped. She gazed up at the ceiling.
“You all right?” I whispered to her. “Sure you don’t want that MRI?”
Grace’s eyes bounced to me and then back at the pad. She pressed the tip of the pen against the paper. e ink bled, forming a large circle. When you held on to something too long, it always left a mark. e same was true for people.
“No, I just can’t remember the name of my insurance company,” she said. Patsy gave a worried look and reached for the phone. “Maybe we should get
Dr. Reed back up here.”
“No, I’m ne really. I just haven’t had to use it in a while.” Grace studied the paper. She tapped the tip of the pen on the ink blob. “I think it starts with a B.”
I slid the pen from her ngers and set it down on the desk. Her brows drew together and she stared up at me.
“I’ll just pay for it.” I pulled my wallet from my back pocket. “What’s the damage, Patsy?”
She clicked several buttons on her calculator.
“No, Calvin. I’ll take care of it,” Grace urged, putting her hand on my arm.
I liked her hand on me.
“Nonsense. My horse. My problem,” I said. “Two hundred and thirty-one dollars.”
“You really don’t have to.” She gently pulled on my arm.
I could have swum in those blue, blue eyes of hers. “I really do, Grace.” I
smiled and handed my card to Patsy.
Her ngers caressed my arm, sending a shiver down my spine. She mouthed, ank you.
I’d take care of Grace every day of my life if she’d let me and even if she wouldn’t.
