I was mortified at the idea of anyone trying to make her feel bad about what she was going through. This was one of the hardest times of her life; hell, she was lucky to be alive. If I were ever privy to anyone trying to tell her to suck it up, I'd give them a clear message regarding their behavior. I'd be damned if I didn't put them through a window. "You're not making a scene." I wasn't great with words and even worse at empathy, so I tried to keep my voice gentle. I tended to have a rather deep timbre, and in this stark room, it reverberated rather forcefully. The last thing I wanted to do was come across as patronizing. "You've been through a lot. I think you're entitled to show some emotion." I needed her to look at me, to give me an indication that she heard me, but I got nothing. "Most people would have cracked under the pressure you've been under. You are an incredibly strong woman." She shook her head, and her messy blond curls bounced with the movement. "I'm

"Focus on breathing." His instruction was firm and left little room for discussion. "Deep, even breaths." He didn't move my knee while he spoke, waiting for me to align myself with what he'd told me to do. "When I bend your knee, I want you to take a deep breath in, and then as I straighten your leg, release the breath, trying to make the exhale last through the entire movement. Time your intake and exhale with each repetition, focusing on filling your lungs. It will bring oxygen to the muscles and help with the pain." All I could do was nod. The truth wasn't I didn't know if I could do it. I didn't deal well with pain, and this went beyond anything I'd ever experienced. "Ready?" Michael waited for my hesitant confirmation. "Here we go, then. Deep breath in, fill your lungs with as much air as possible. In, in, in, in." He chanted as he bent my knee to a ninety-degree angle, pressing my lower back into the immobilizer and my hip into the crummy hospital mattress.

Daddy sat in the chair that Charlie had managed to finagle out of the nurses, and he'd pulled my swinging table up to use it as a desk. There were papers scattered all over it, and he had his checkbook out and a pen stuck in it. "Daddy, why don't you let me help you with that?" Cross Acre's books had been my responsibility since I was in high school. "I can write checks and pay bills." My handwriting might not be pretty, but if a doctor got away with chicken scratch, surely no one would question my wobbly script. He ran a hand through his grey hair. I didn't think I'd ever get used to seeing Daddy without a hat. There were rarely times I saw him without one-church and supper; that was about it. But in the hospital, he never brought one, although I could tell he'd had one on in the truck from the ring it left behind. "I've got it, sweetheart." I sighed. "You're being silly. Just because my body isn't working right doesn't mean my mind won't function." I waited fo

After basically forcing Sarah out, the rehab facility took its sweet time actually releasing her. Maybe that was just how it felt, but between the time the decision was handed down, Jack delivered the message, and Sarah physically left, it had been days of wondering when it would happen. I couldn't say I was upset that she was going home, although I knew she wasn't looking forward to it. The drive to Laredo every day was a killer in a huge truck, and I was at Cross Acres every day anyhow. Even if I weren't, it was only a couple miles from my parents' property. I felt like I'd lived in an uncomfortable chair in a sterile room in Laredo for the last couple of months, and I got to go home every day. I could only imagine how Sarah felt. She seemed to have mixed emotions regarding the whole thing. Part of her wanted to be back in Mason Belle, part of her was afraid she wasn't ready to leave, and there was a part of her that believed I'd quit coming to see her-even if she hadn't verbalized t

This was the first time since Sarah had started physical therapy that she would have a couple of days off. Even in the rehab facility, she'd had standing appointments on the weekend. It was a complete submersion into healing. Now she'd had the weekend without anyone poking or prodding her. I didn't know what Jack's plans were, and I hadn't asked. I just knew Sarah had to be back in Laredo for most of the afternoon, and I had more leeway with my time than he did. At some point, her dad had to get back to business. His business was cattle ranching, not hospitals and doctor's appointments. He hadn't called me, although he did look relieved when I hopped out of the truck in front of the barn. It was an expression I'd never seen much growing up-not from Jack-and saw it just about every day now. "Hey, Jack." I closed the truck door and walked over to the horse Jack had in hand. "Is Sarah about ready for her appointment?" He patted the horse's neck and smoothed its