Chapter 6

By the end of the day, they knew John had both wrists broken, and a concussion. Thankfully, the CT-scan showed no evidence of a spinal cord injury or damage to his brain, which caused a profound flood of relief in everyone.

When John was finally released, he had a matching set of slings and had been provided with plenty of drugs and orders to keep his wrists above his heart as much as possible for the next several days to reduce the swelling. Only then would he receive two casts.

Molly did a quick stop at the inn, to pack a suitcase with some clothes and her toiletries and rushed back to her car.

She was going to be there for him this time. She owed John. Not only for what had happened today but for what had happened before. Maybe if she could do something for him now, he might be able to get over what had happened in the past.

John watched Molly with his arms crossed over his chest, not by choice, but because of the slings supporting them. A frown creased his swollen forehead as he contemplated the suitcase in her hand.

Molly climbed down the steps of the inn, put her suitcase in the trunk, and stepped inside the car.

“What’s that suitcase for, Molly?”

“I’m moving in with you until you can take care of yourself, John. Someone has to.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“Like hell.”

“Yes, I’m sure it will be,” she smiled, started her car, and drove to the farm.

“You don’t have to do this, Molly.”

When they arrived at the farm, Molly helped John to get out of the car and opened the front door for him.

“No one is blaming you for what happened,” John insisted, sitting at the kitchen table.

“I want to do it. I feel responsible, John. I walked behind that horse. You fell off the ladder because of me. You could have died.” Molly’s eyes burned, and she blinked hard and fast.

She plowed past him and into the kitchen. There wasn’t much he could do to stop her with both arms strapped to his chest.

“I already talked about this with Red and Kat. Your family will help here as much as they can, but they have lives of their own and a business to take care of. I’m the only one who is dispensable.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Molly set the suitcase on a chair. “Of course you do! You can’t cook, you can’t hold a spoon, you can even go to the bathroom by yourself.”

“Are you going to wipe my ass too, Molly?”

Molly smiled. “If I have to, of course I will. You had a nice one if memory serves me well.”

John let out a long sigh.

“Please, John, let me do this for you. I feel responsible.”

“Responsible? Why? It was an accident, Molly. Shit happens.”

“I hurt you again. Maybe I should stay away from you.”

He nodded, “Maybe you should. You’re good at hurting me and running away.”

“Dammit, John! I’m not running away this time,” she exploded. Then she saw him smirk and realized he’d been baiting her. She took a deep breath, counted to ten, and tried again.

“I’ll stay here until you can take care of yourself.”

“Why does it have to be you?”

“My question exactly.” She rubbed between her eyes with her thumb. “Do you have a better idea?”

“Yeah, anyone but you. I could hire someone.”

“Really, John? Would you feel comfortable with a strange person changing your clothes, helping you to bathe, or washing your underwear?”

John sighed in defeat. She was right, of course.

“I’ll put my suitcase in the guest room.”

He grunted, which she took as a yes because it wasn’t a no. She grabbed her bag and went into the guest room.

Once she was alone, she sat on the bed and held her head in her hands. This was the chance she had been praying for. She would be living with John for a couple of months.

Molly’s eyes were caught by the mirror atop the vanity. Time rolled back and she could see her teenage self sitting on the bed, staring into the antique fogginess of the glass.