Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
“Ryland Johnson,” Mom interjects.
“What about Case? He can’t see me like this, Ry.” Sutton’s voice carries through the room with her soft tone.
“Babe, Case isn’t going to care as long as his Sutty is okay. The bruises and splint aren’t going to scare him away. I’ve got a spare room. The main house would be hard as hell on your body, and it’s Grand Central Station during the day.” Mom rolls her lips inward, knowing I’m right. She can come and go from my place just as easily when I’ve got to do chores on the ranch.
“He’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. The main house has more booted feet mucking dirt in and out. As for Case, he won’t see anything except the beautiful woman you are.” Tears slide down Sutton’s cheeks. Mom sheds a few of her own. She’s more than likely riddled with as much guilt as I am.
“Well, that’s settled. The sheriff would like to take your statement as long as you’re up to it.” This will be entirely up to Sutton. Though, if I had my way, she wouldn’t have to do any of this at all.
“Can I have a few minutes? I could really use the restroom and something to drink.”
“Of course. I’ll have a nurse bring in a few things for you to choose from. Are you hungry?” Sutton’s stomach answers the room. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The doctor chuckles. “You’re going to be fine, Sutton, just fine.” He closes his file and heads for the door.
“Gonna let Mom help you to the bathroom, unless you need me?” I stand up, my lips brushing across her forehead. There’s a time for me to be here and a time for me to let Sutton have her dignity. I somehow know the last thing she wants is me to see her bare ass in a hospital gown while she tries to walk with a hospital pole and IV attached to her.
“I’m good, but stay close.” Her face shows fear. Fuck me, but I hate that. “You know, just in case.”
“I’ll be right outside the door. Gotta make a phone call, make sure Case is at the ranch, and then I’ll be right by your side, alright?” My hand is holding hers, head lowered so we’re eye to eye, and this time, my lips touch hers, softly, leaving me aching and wishing I could deepen the kiss. Soon. As soon as she’s better, I’m going touch Sutton everywhere.
ELEVEN
SUTTON
“Don’t look. It’ll do nothing but make you more upset, then you’ll cry, and I’ll cry. We’ll be a weeping mess together,” Ms. Catherine tells me just outside the door. She’s holding the back of my elbow. My strength is absolute crap, but I’d rather deal with this than be catheterized. There was a reason while I was lying in bed that I wiggled my toes; it was also to feel if the tubing was where I was more than positive it would be. When Mom was at the end, she couldn’t walk, could barely talk, and it was up to me to take care of her when Ms. Catherine couldn’t. We had around-the-clock care with nurses in and out of the house. Still, there were times they took a break and Mom needed me. There was no other place I’d rather be regardless of the circumstances.
“It’s that bad?” There’s going to be no avoiding the mirror. I’ll eventually have to suck it up.
“It’s not pretty.” A shiver rolls over my body.
“Why do hospitals have to be so damn cold?” I change the subject. The hospital gown I’m wearing is paper thin, and the gaping hole is doing nothing to keep me warm, either. Thank goodness I at least have grippy socks on.
“No idea. Maybe to keep everyone uncomfortable in order to get them to leave as soon as possible,” she replies.
“Well, it’s working. I’m ready to get out of here myself. Too many bad memories,” I mutter, and now look at me, adding another one to the memory bank. When she hits the lights, I take a quick glance at myself, and try as I might, staring at the person in the reflection happens.
“Oh, honey, all of this will heal. It’s the inside I’m worried about most. I hate like hell you didn’t tell me how bad life really was. I’d have gotten my boys to take care of everything.” Ms. Catherine looks at me looking at myself. There’re tears in her eyes, and my own waterworks start.
“Well, crap, look what I started.” I can’t even wipe my cheeks with one hand in a splint and the other holding the pole.
“You’re allowed to cry, honey. You’ll have good days and bad days. We’ll get you through this and on the other side.” She doesn’t finish the statement she and Mom repeated religiously throughout the years before cancer took my best friend away. You’re allowed to be down at times. What matters is that you don’t stay down.