They put the Christmas tree on the table where she could see it. It had been the nurse’s suggestion—something for Rae to look at as she fought to keep her spirits up. It was porcelain, the lights blinking different colors.

Four days, and no change.

Rae was desperately afraid. They all were.

Christmas Eve last night had been a time to pray for her and hope for the best.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything,” Rae said, breaking the tension and making the group of them laugh.

“You always were a Christmas Eve shopper,” Lace replied. “Would you like me to be your hands?” she offered softly. They had brought in Rae’s stocking. It was filled with little gifts. Most of them made her laugh, for they had been bought with that in mind.

The little white dog like Justin with a red heart for a tag made her cry.

“We couldn’t smuggle in the puppy, so we had to improvise,” James told her, brushing away the tears.

“It’s very nice. Thank you,” she whispered, choking on the words. “How is he?”

“Staying with Emily and Tom. Missing you.”

 

“She moved her toes!”

James felt his heart lurch as Lace stopped in front of him. He was sitting in the ICU waiting room, weary beyond belief, fighting the grief, trying to pray. He looked at Lace and it took a moment for her words and grin to sink in. “She moved.”

“She moved. Both feet. You should have seen her smile. Come on, you need to see her.” Lace offered a hand and James took it, his wrist flaring in pain, his joints fighting the movement.

His smile began slowly, cautiously. He had been at the hospital for six days, had left only to change, take a shower, catch a few moments of sleep. He had never felt such a deep loss of hope. The obstacles they faced were so deep; if she didn’t improve, she would need so much help that would be beyond him to provide.

She had moved.

The nurses let them enter the ICU together.

James stopped by the door, for Rae had two doctors with her. He stayed and listened as the doctors reviewed how much improvement had occurred. It was slight; she could move her toes and she had feeling in her hands. The paralysis had a long way to go before it faded, but both doctors were smiling.

James crossed over to the bedside when the doctors finished, moving into Rae’s line of sight. “I hear you’ve got news.” He slipped her hand carefully into his and squeezed it.

Her smile was wide, and there were tears in her eyes—finally tears of joy. “I can feel your hand, I can move, just a little. I was so afraid none of it would come back.”

James pulled a chair over, sitting down to take the strain off his ankles.

“I was so scared.”

“I know you were, Rae.” He gently brushed her hair back from her face.

“You look awfully tired, James.”

He smiled. “I’ve got a lifetime to sleep. I love you, Rae.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered back.

 

“What else do you think she will want?” It felt uncomfortable walking through Rae’s home, packing for her.

“I’ll get her book. See if you can find her Bible. It’s normally on her bedside table,” Dave replied.

James nodded and walked upstairs, keeping a firm grip on the staircase railing. The house was exactly how Rae had left it the morning she left for work and didn’t return. Dishes from dinner the night before had been left in the sink, the bathroom counter was still cluttered, and bills she had planned to mail were sitting on her desk. He had a disquieting thought; it would be like this if she had died; walking into her life as she had left it.

She had made her bed. Clothes she had considered and chosen not to wear still lay across the chair arm.

James found her Bible and her diary resting on the pillow of her bed. She must have had devotions that morning and dropped the books there. He picked up the Bible, its leather cover cool and worn. He had seen her with this Bible in her hand on so many occasions. He could see the shadow of her handprint worn into the leather from the oil of her skin. Her grip was smaller than his.

The Bible fell open to Psalm 37 showing how frequently she smoothed this spot in the spine. Rae was one to highlight and underline and make notes.

It was comforting to get a glimpse into her real life. She could never have known someone would see her home as she left it that morning. She had devotions because she had chosen to; in the normal course of events, no one would have ever seen the evidence.

He picked up her diary, figuring she would appreciate having it as well.

The picture of Leo was gone.

James felt his hand tighten around the books he held.

The picture of Leo and the engagement ring were gone. She had done it sometime in the past, before this accident and his words “I love you.”

When had she done it? When they’d started to date? In the weeks that followed?

It had to have been before he broke up the relationship—before he announced they could just be friends.

He looked at the empty spot on the bedside table and finally felt hope.

He knew how badly he had damaged their relationship. He had backed away because his health was not improving. He could feel the sinking fear in his gut that Rae might decide to do the same thing. Even though she said “I love you,” it was far different from saying she would accept a relationship again, consider marrying him. She could move her toes slightly, could feel someone holding her hand. It was still a formidably long way from being totally recovered.

The doctors were being cautiously optimistic. The swelling was still there, lessening a little more each day. What they didn’t know was how far the recovery would go.

He was afraid of what Rae might decide to do.

What if the accident left her in a wheelchair? What if she got mobility back in her right hand but not her left? Her spine had taken a severe blow—the fracture had cut into the nerves. What they didn’t know was what would heal and what was permanently damaged. It was an ugly circumstance to consider.

He was ready to deal with it; he knew he could adapt to whatever the final outcome was. The question was, could Rae? If she remained partially paralyzed, would it be her choice this time to leave the relationship just friends?

 

It was difficult, watching physical therapy. She was out of intensive care, in a private room in the rehabilitation wing of the hospital. The paralysis persisted. The swelling still lingered. There was no determining which muscles in her back, arms and legs obeyed her wishes and which ones still did not get the message to move.

The broken ribs hurt. She was constantly fighting a headache. Because she wasn’t able to move easily, her body throbbed with pain from lying in one position for too long.

James felt for her and wished there was something he could do.

He sat on the far side of the room and watched as the physical therapist worked on helping her get motion in her arms. He could see the strain on Rae’s face as she tried to coordinate the muscles in her shoulders and upper arms to get the movement she wanted. It was difficult—lying flat on your back, head in a brace to prevent your neck moving, knowing you had to battle to raise your arms.

After fifteen minutes the therapist declared the day a success and spent several minutes talking with a discouraged Rae to explain the improvements that were occurring.

James could see the improvement, too. Rae was getting better. It was slow, but it was definitely there.

After the therapist left, James moved back to Rae’s bedside. “You are getting better,” he confirmed.

She wanted to reply with something sharp, but bit back her words. James couldn’t blame her for the bad mood.

“Would you like to get some sleep, talk for a while, have me pick up reading where I left off?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral.

She sighed. “Finish the book.”

James studied her face, finally nodded. He picked up the suspense novel he had been reading to her, pulled the chair back to her bedside. “Is the mirror angle okay?”

“Yes.”

She hated the mirror. Positioned over her, it let her see the room while she was flat on her back. She really hated it. James reached over and gently squeezed her hand, didn’t let go of it as he used one hand to find the page they were on in the book. He began reading.

It took her several minutes, but she turned her hand over to grip his.

 

Rae was able to move now, but only with great care. The physical therapist had had her on her feet yesterday, a reality that had caused her an immense amount of vertigo. The exhaustion after therapy had caused her to sleep through the afternoon. James had sat with her, reading a book, watching for any signs of the nightmare returning.

She had been dreaming about the accident recently, waking terrified, reliving the moment she had turned her head and seen the headlights right there, the instant before the car had slammed into her driver-side door. She had no memory of the accident past that point; didn’t remember the emergency room, nor much from the first couple days in the ICU. James wished her memory had erased those first few moments before the accident as well.

The first time the dream had happened, her heart rate had jumped to almost one hundred sixty beats per minute in only a few seconds. The nurse had seen it happen and shaken her awake. The doctors told her the dream would fade in intensity with time. James preferred to be there to shake her awake rather than let her complete the dream.

“She’s bored.”

James laughed at Lace’s conclusion, joining her at the hospital cafeteria table for a cup of coffee. “I brought the reference books she asked for with me. That should help serve as a distraction.”

Rae was healing, feeling better, fighting to regain motion, mobility, strength. She was fighting her way back to health.

“I hear she goes down to the physical therapy room today,” Lace commented.

James carefully picked up his coffee mug, knowing his hands might drop it if he didn’t concentrate. He nodded. “They want to get her relearning to walk.”

“Did the doctors say what yesterday’s MRI results were?”

“The swelling below the fracture point is down but it’s not gone. At least that implies more improvement is still likely.”

 

The sunlight woke her up. Rae lifted her right hand into her line of sight, flexed the fingers into a fist, pleased to simply watch the movement.

She had grown accustomed to these quiet moments. It was early. Soon the nurse and physical therapist would be in, the steel locking pins would be turned and she would be mobile again, her neck held straight by a smaller brace.

She breathed in deeply, let it out slowly.

There were a few benefits to a severe accident. She got to lie in bed for a good portion of the day, nap, read, talk to friends. She had the strength and energy of a newborn kitten.

She knew what James felt like now.

Concern for how the business was doing tensed her body and she forced the thought away. She wasn’t going to worry about something she had little control over. Jack was there. Her staff were good. Dave was going in each day for a couple of hours.

She touched her hand to her face, exploring how far the swelling had come down. She had nearly broken her jaw. It still ached.

“Good morning, Rae.”

She smiled at the voice of her favorite nurse. “Good morning.”

A few seconds later, the face connected with the voice appeared in her line of sight.

“Breakfast is coming.”

“I’m hungry,” Rae remarked, surprised.

Her new friend laughed. “Your body is letting you know it’s tired of IVs.”

Rae held her breath as the pins were released and she was once again mobile. It felt great to be free of the large brace, but also scary. Her neck was still fragile; a fall could paralyze her for life.

The nurse helped her dress in sweats, ease back onto the bed. She was grateful physical therapy was not for another hour and a half. It was hard, knowing she should be able to do so much more, to accept the fact that her body could not do it yet.

God, I understand so much better the frustration James must feel. It’s the frustration of all the little things. The fact I have to concentrate to be able to take even a single step. The fact I can’t put on a pair of shoes. The fact I can’t reach the book I want to read without first carefully maneuvering to get in position. The fact I get tired so easily.

“Hey, lady. Like some company?” It was a soft question from her left.

Rae turned carefully, smiled. “I was just thinking about you.”

James crossed the room. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

“Hmm.” She watched carefully as he moved, was grateful that his pain appeared to be under control this morning. He looked like he had finally had a decent night of sleep. She had been worried about him.

He kissed her good-morning. She was reluctant to end the kiss, a fact that made him laugh. “You taste minty,” he remarked, reluctantly easing away. He sat down in the chair beside her bed.

She wrinkled her nose. “Toothpaste.”

He grinned. “Whatever.”

She loved his smile. She loved the fact he chose to spend his days with her.

 

“What, no James?”

Rae had gotten adept at using the mirror above her bed, finally accepting its reality. “Hi, Lace. I sent him home.” It was late and she was flat on her back, not going to be moving again until morning.

Her friend appeared in her line of vision. “I know, I’m just teasing. I saw him in the lobby.”

Rae smiled. She loved James and Dave, but there were times when a girlfriend was the one who really mattered. “He looks good, doesn’t he?”

“Dave or James?”

Rae chuckled. “Yes, I noticed the change in Dave, too. James.”

“I think the new medication is helping. He’s in less pain.”

“I think so, too. Have you and Dave been dating?”

“Do you expect me to kiss and tell?”

Rae grinned. “Absolutely.”

“He brought lunch over yesterday. Yeah. I think we’re really dating.”

“This is good.”

“This is murder. I can never tell when he’s pulling my leg and when he’s serious.”

Lace pulled a chair over, settled into it, adjusted the mirror for Rae. “I bought the baby gift you wanted for Patricia. I had it wrapped for you. I’ll leave it in the second drawer of the chest, with your purse.”

“Thank you, Lace.”

“No problem. It was fun to wander through the baby clothes. They’ve got some cute fashions.”

Rae groaned.

“What?”

“I just had a vision of your children, Lace. Remember kids like to play in the dirt.”

“I’m not planning to have children.”

Rae looked at her; her friend smiled. “Okay, so the thought has crossed my mind a few times. Anything else you need? I’ll swing by on my lunch hour tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Lace. I can’t think of anything else.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” her friend promised.

 

“All right, Rae!”

Sweat was dripping from her body. She stood at the far end of the walkway, gripping the handbars to keep herself upright. James could see the muscles in her arms quiver with the excursion.

Her smile told its own story.

The physical therapist helped her turn and carefully sit down in the wheelchair he brought over.

Dave handed her a towel.

“You made it the distance, Rae.”

James pushed himself to his feet, using the cane to steady his weight, relieve the pain in his ankles. “Another couple of days and you’ll be doing stairs.”

Rae grinned. “Of course.”

The session over for the day, Dave pushed her wheelchair back to her room where the nurse kicked them out so Rae could have a shower and change clothes.

James took advantage of the time for a little physical therapy of his own, a walk around the hospital floor. It was hard to walk any distance, and the improvements he could see were scarce—a little less pain, a little more flexibility, but he kept to the daily routine. He was determined to be able to do ten laps in the pool this month.

“How is Rae’s business doing, Dave?”

Dave grimaced. “Not good. I’ve been dreading her questions. Jack can manage for a few more days, maybe a few weeks, but it is becoming apparent how badly Rae needs to be back setting the direction.”

“She can’t.”

Dave looked annoyed. “I know that. I also know she will kill me if the business loses too much ground.”

The question was raised by Rae an hour later, as she sat in the hospital bed, the end raised to let her sit up. She wanted to know how Jack was doing.

Dave told her the truth.

James, sitting on the other side of the bed, reached forward and captured one of her hands, held it, stroked the back, tried to distract her. She stayed focused on Dave.

“Call Gary and ask if he’ll loan us York for four weeks,” she finally requested. “York reviewed our books when we wrote the contract to sell the business. He’s Gary’s right-hand man.”

James froze. She had a contract written to sell the business?

“I’ll call him when I get home,” Dave promised.

James looked at the profusion of flowers sitting on the windowsill, his thoughts in turmoil. She had gotten as far as a contract to sell the business? When had this happened? The thought made him sick. She loved her work. It was followed by a worse thought. Had she done it because of him?

He eased her hand from his. “I’m going to get a soda. Would you two like anything?” He needed to get out of this room.

They both declined.

She had been planning to sell the business. James tried to absorb that fact as he walked the halls to the vending machine.

Her business was more than a career for Rae. It was part of who she was, just as being a builder was an intrinsic part of who he was. She had been planning to walk away from it?

He had come to the point where he was willing to accept that they could have a future together even with the limitations he faced. But he had been thinking about practical sacrifices that could make it possible. A live-in housekeeper. Limiting the type of activities they planned. He had never envisioned the sacrifice of her career.

Everything in him rebelled at the thought of her sacrificing her career, selling the business, for him.

He slammed his fist against the pop machine when the can refused to drop all the way to the slot. He gasped at the pain that coursed through his wrist, elbow and shoulder.

Reality.

He hated this disease.

 

She was working on her book.

James paused in the doorway to her room, watching her. She was able to be out of bed for longer and longer periods of time now. Sitting in the chair by the window, using the bed as a table to spread out her materials, she was writing on a legal pad of paper, her concentration intense.

He loved her.

He loved seeing her like this, absorbed in her work.

The latest MRI had shown the swelling was gone. The paralysis that had been lingering in some of her muscles had finally faded. She had to move slowly, she had to concentrate on her actions, her strength and stamina had a long way to go, but the doctors were now talking about a full recovery being probable. Lace had brought in a cake so they could celebrate the news.

James quietly came into the room, set down the newspaper he had brought in for her.

Rae looked up, smiled. “How’s Patricia doing?”

James took a seat, grateful to get off his feet. “Contractions are now every four minutes.”

Rae set aside the pad of paper and glanced at the clock. “Six hours. But she’s having a wonderful time.”

“She kicked me out of the room,” James replied, ruefully.

Rae laughed. “Poor boy.”

“Emily and Tom are pleading for a chance to see you. Care to take a stroll downstairs?”

“Sure.”

She looked at him, helpless. “Can you do my shoes?” With the brace, shoes were still impossible to do on her own.

James found the tennis shoes, knelt down, smiled at her as he tweaked her socks. “I think I kind of like you just a little bit helpless.”

She swatted his shoulder. “Don’t get used to it. It’s temporary.” She giggled as he tickled her left foot, tried to pull it back. “Behave, James.”

He put on her shoes, tied the laces. He got up, braced his arms on her chair, leaned forward and kissed her. He loved her blush. “Come on, lady. Time to go get smothered by the family.”

Emily and Tom had drawn pictures for her of Justin so that she could see they were taking good care of her dog. Rae gratefully sat down on the sofa James led her to, then turned her attention to the children. Excited about a new baby, they gave Rae a blow-by-blow account of how their mom had gone into labor while making breakfast.

 

His new niece was born at seven-thirty that evening. James stood beside Rae at the glass to the nursery, his arm around her waist, looking with her at the sleeping infant.

“She’s beautiful.”

James turned and leaned around the brace, softly kissed Rae’s forehead, comforted by the fact she was with him. “Yes.” They would have children of their own someday. He looked back at the sleeping infant. He wanted to be a dad. He wanted to be Rae’s husband.

 

Rae settled carefully down on the couch, her muscles trembling at the expense of energy it had cost her to reach this point. Dave had a careful grip on her arm to make sure she didn’t stumble.

She was home.

They had decorated. There were streamers, a cake, a big Welcome Home sign stretched across her entertainment center. Rae had never felt more cherished.

“Okay?”

Rae nodded in reply to the concerned query from James. She was exhausted, but that was to be expected. It was her first substantial trip since the accident. She was still trying to relax muscles that had tensed at the experience of riding in a car again.

James helped Rae off with her jacket. It caught on the neck collar she now wore and he carefully eased her forward, sliding his hands around to free the jacket.

Rae wanted to bury her face against his chest and just be held for a very long time. She missed being in his arms. It was the fatigue as well as the reality that she was finally home that was bringing the tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong, honey?” The soft endearment made her catch back a sob. His hands gently gripped hers.

“I’m okay.”

“Sure you are,” Dave said lightly, tucking a handkerchief in her hands. “We’re glad to have you home.”

She sniffed back the tears. “I’m so glad to be here.”

Lace was the practical one. “Here, this should help. One homemade, chocolate fudge shake.”

Rae laughed and accepted the tall shake Lace had prepared. “Thank you, Lace.”

“Dave, make yourself useful, go rescue the luggage,” Lace told him.

Dave tweaked her hair, but did as she asked.

James settled down on the sofa beside Rae, very conscious of the fact he didn’t want her trying to turn her head and strain her neck. “Come here,” he urged softly, guiding her down to rest against his side. His ribs ached at the pressure and he didn’t care. She was home and she was mobile and he loved her. The limitations they both faced were going to be overcome, somehow, someway.

“James?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to fall asleep on you.”

His smile was gentle. “Go right ahead, Rae. I’ll just drink your shake.”

He felt her laughter.

 

“Rae, what was it like when your parents died?” James asked.

The question surprised Rae and she turned slightly. They were sitting on the couch in her living room watching the credits of a movie go by. She was almost asleep, resting comfortably against his shoulder, his arm around her waist, an afghan thrown across her legs. “Scary. Why do you want to know?”

“Curious, I guess. You never talk about them.”

Rae let her eyes close again, too tired to fight the pull of sleep. “I remember my mom’s friend Gloria came and got me from school. I remember wanting to go to my bedroom and find my doll, the one Mom had made for me. It’s kind of a blur.”

“What do you remember about them?”

“I remember them as being nice, loving, fun. When I got home from school, Mom would take a break from working on her book to join me in the kitchen and share a snack, normally cookies she had baked that morning. She wore perfume I really liked and used to braid my hair for me. Dad I remember as this big guy who used to pick me up and make me laugh. He liked to play checkers and read me stories.”

James squeezed her hand. “Thanks.”

She reluctantly pushed herself up, her hand going to protect her ribs.

“I’m sorry the ribs still hurt so bad,” James said, his hands helping support her movements.

“So am I. I miss getting a hug,” Rae said ruefully.

Justin was asleep on the floor in front of the couch. Rae eased over so she could get up without disturbing him. “Thanks for coming over tonight.”

She sensed rather than saw James disappointment with her remark. He didn’t say anything. She knew her decision to keep some distance between them was bothering him. She didn’t have the luxury right now of giving him the commitment he wanted.

“Lace said she was bringing you over dinner tomorrow night?”

Rae nodded.

“Then I guess I’ll see you Thursday to give you a ride to the hospital. Noon okay?”

“I can call a cab, James.”

“Physical therapy is tough enough without worrying about transportation, too. I can work at a table there just as well as I can at home.”

There was no way she was going to win the discussion. Rae nodded. “Noon will be fine. Thank you.”

He kissed her at the door, a lingering kiss that was touched with regret. “Sleep well tonight, Rae.”

“You too,” she said softly.

She turned off the porch light after his car pulled out of the driveway, walked carefully upstairs. Her muscles still quivered when the fatigue was bad, threatening her balance.

God, please help James understand. I don’t want to get hurt again. I’m too beat up to be able to handle a marriage. I don’t know what I’m going to do about work. Please, help James understand. I can’t be what he wants, not right now. I regret that, but it is the reality.

 

“Rae, you’re keeping your distance and you really don’t need to. James isn’t looking for a hostess, housekeeper and cook.”

Lace was over, helping Rae clean house.

Rae could do some of the picking up, load the dishwasher, but doing the laundry, mopping the floor, cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming—they were all still beyond her stamina.

They were working together on the kitchen, having finished the upstairs earlier. Rae lifted the corner of a Tupper-wear lid, suspicious of what might be lurking inside. She was cleaning out the refrigerator. “Lace, I know that. But just the logistics of planning a wedding, setting up house together, creating a workable routine are beyond me right now.”

“So have a long engagement. Rae, he’s miserable.”

Rae set yet another container of spoiled food to discard in the sink. She had to lean heavily against the counter to wait for the pain in her back to subside. The accident had left her with a whole new appreciation for how much she had taken her body for granted. “He wants me at his place so he can take care of me.” She breathed out in relief as the pain subsided, carefully reached for the next item on the refrigerator shelf.

“Is that so bad?”

Rae wrinkled her nose at something that was now green. “Yeah.”

 

Kevin hesitated, holding the sledgehammer. “James, are you sure you want to do this?”

James closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, thought about it, reconsidered for about the ninth time. He nodded. “I’m sure.”

Rae was going to need a walk-in closet. It was a minor detail, but it was important. He wanted her to feel at home here…if, no, when they had a future together.

He had to keep that hope alive.

He was incredibly worried that she was going to continue to keep her distance, not allow the relationship to go forward. She was not willing to let him get close while she was less than fully recovered. She fought the muscles that refused to do her bidding. She fought a body that ached with pain. How well he understood her motivations—a misplaced belief that love would not knowingly place her burden on him. It was the same thing he had done to her.

They were both wrong.

He just had to convince her of that.

Somehow he had to find a way to get her to trust him again, risk a relationship, despite her limitations, despite his.

It took all the faith he had to hold on to that hope.

Kevin knocked out the wall.

 

“Rae, can I come in?”

James saw her move to rise from where she lay on the couch. “No, don’t get up.”

He joined her in her living room, took a seat across from her, lowered his cane to the floor. Rae did not look pleased to see him. James chose to ignore it. Justin came over to greet him. He reached down to gently tug the puppy’s ears. “Hard day?”

She ran her hand through her hair. “Lace and I went grocery shopping. I don’t think I’ll do that again soon.”

James could see the tremor in her hand from the fatigue. “Some days you will have more energy than others. It will improve with time.”

“I called it quits before we got to the ice cream. Now I wish we had started at the frozen foods and worked toward the vegetables, rather than the other way around.”

James understood exactly what she meant. “I was going to see if you wanted to go out this evening, but I’ll ask that another night. I’ll fix us dinner here.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

Interesting tone. He hadn’t heard this one before. “I’m going to anyway,” he replied, his voice neutral but determined. “Would it help to nap for a couple hours, shake the fatigue?”

“Probably. I don’t want to.”

James grinned, he couldn’t help it. “Rebellion. This is good.”

Rae laughed against her will.

James walked into her kitchen only to find it was a mess. It made him stop, rather stunned; he turned and looked back to the other room, frowning heavily. She was hurting a lot more than she was willing to let on. The rebellion must have begun earlier in the day. Lace would have instinctively moved to clean the kitchen for her. It was not like Rae to toss her best friend out of the house and it would have taken that to get Lace to leave.

James poured her a glass of juice and brought it to her. “Want me to dial Lace so you can apologize?”

She looked rather mutinous as she took the glass. “It’s a private fight.”

He didn’t move from his position standing beside the couch. She felt miserable, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that; miserable and close to tears, and angry at the entire world. “Her work, home or cell phone number?”

“Home,” Rae finally said softly.

James found the cordless phone on the third step of the staircase, and also brought her a box of tissues.

“Lace? It’s James. Rae would like to talk to you.”

Lace sounded as if she had been crying, a fact that made James all the more troubled. James handed Rae the phone, set the tissue box within her reach, and left the room to give her some privacy.

It took about twenty minutes to get the kitchen back in shape. After an inspection of the refrigerator contents, he settled on broiled fish for dinner.

He heard her come to the doorway and quietly set the phone down on the counter. He gave her a moment before he looked up from the asparagus he was cutting. She looked awful after she had been crying. “Everything okay now?” he asked softly, hurting for her.

She nodded. Sniffed. “What did you find?” Her voice was husky.

“Broiled trout, baked potato, asparagus. Sound okay?”

“Yes.”

She sounded so incredibly…sad. Everything wasn’t okay, she was just stuffing the pain. He set down the knife and dried his hands. She was resting against the doorjamb, her hand cradling her ribs, her energy spent. He tipped her chin up, studied her face, saw so much pain in her eyes. He put his arms around her and pulled her gently against him, taking her weight, easing her head down against his chest. He held her stiff frame and gently rubbed her back. Her body finally softened against him.

He felt the first sob ripple through her. “You must hate me!”

The emotion coming from her made him flinch even though he had known it was likely. “I don’t hate you. I love you,” he said calmly. “You’re just tired, honey, that’s all,” he reassured quietly, threading his fingers through her hair. She was exhausted way past the point she could function.

It took a focused effort of all his own reserves, but he leaned down and picked her up. Upstairs was out of his possibility, so he carried her into the living room. He held her through the bout of tears, until the emotion ran its course and she finally cried herself to sleep.

He made her as comfortable on the couch as he could, quietly reassured Justin, and went to fix himself a sandwich. He wasn’t going anywhere.

 

The phone rang. James caught it before the second ring, checking carefully to see if it had woken Rae. It was Dave. James carried the phone with him to the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“I’m at Lace’s place. How’s Rae doing, James?”

“She’ll be fine,” James assured him with a confidence he didn’t totally feel. “She just got overtired and her ribs are really hurting.”

“Lace said Rae tripped on the stairs when she was carrying in the groceries. That was what triggered the argument, apparently. I gather she’s still refusing to see the doctor?”

James’s hand tightened on the phone. “Rae didn’t mention she fell,” he replied. His voice was level, but he could feel the anger building inside him. That lovable, crazy, irresponsible lady. She could be really hurt and she hadn’t said anything.

He left the phone on the counter after saying goodbye to Dave and strode with purpose back into the living room.

“Rae, there are times I really regret you are so stubborn,” he whispered softly, tucking the afghan around her. He sighed and debated what he should do.

Let it go. It wasn’t worth a fight.

 

She stirred shortly after 10:00 p.m. Without being asked, he handed her two aspirin.

“Thank you.”

He sat down beside her on the couch and gently brushed her hair back from her face. “You need to eat something, Rae. Feel up to it?”

She seemed surprised when she nodded. “I’m hungry.”

He smiled. “Good.”

She moved to get up, winced.

“Ribs hurt?” he asked.

She looked up at him sharply and reluctantly nodded. She wanted to know if he knew about her fall but she wasn’t going to ask him. He slid a hand under her elbow and carefully helped her sit up.

“I’m sorry it’s so late.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been reading a good book.”

She looked over to the chair he had been sitting in, looked back at him. He had been reading her recently written chapters of the manuscript.

“Are they any good?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

He resumed fixing the dinner that had been interrupted hours before. He soon heard her move through the house, and then he heard water running in the bathroom.

She came back with her face washed, her hair brushed. She helped him set the table.

He broiled the trout to the point it flaked apart, found sour cream and chives for the baked potatoes. It was a quiet meal, Rae asking only a few questions about his day. James was content to sit and watch her when he finished his dinner before her. He was glad to see she had meant it when she said she was hungry, and especially glad to see she ate a decent amount.

She helped him carry dishes from the dining room back to the kitchen when they were done eating.

He was reaching for the dish soap to clean the broiler when she paused his movements, resting her hand against his forearm. “Thank you, James.”

He studied the serious expression in her eyes, then he smiled. The mood needed to be lightened around here. He ruffled her hair. “You’re welcome.”

He hummed softly as he washed the pans and she cleared the rest of the table.

“I didn’t crack a rib, I’m sure of it.”

He looked up from the pan he was rinsing off. “An X ray could tell you that for certain.” He didn’t know what he wanted to do, accept her opinion or push the matter.

She shrugged. “I’m clumsy these days, I pick up bruises.”

He understood instantly, the moment he saw that shrug.

She was embarrassed.

She was embarrassed about the fact she was not as steady on her feet as she had been before.

“I’ll buy you a cane,” he replied lightly. “What’s your favorite color?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Remind me not to come to you for sympathy.”

He tugged her over with one hand. “You’ll get sympathy, even empathy. Just not pity.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Deal?”

She kissed him back, her arm sliding around his waist. “Deal.”

 

She adapted to limitations better than he did.

James watched Rae carry in her briefcase from the car, noticed the way she moved, using the cane he had bought her to keep her balance as she came up the steps. The unsteadiness was not improving with time, was still made worse with fatigue. James was worried about her going back to work, but also dreading the options she was considering.

They had spent the morning installing a second handrail for her staircase, then she had gone to meet Gary, Dave and York for lunch, while he painted the trim.

He held open the front door for her.

She smiled as she got to the top of the stairs, slightly out of breath. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

She paused at the bottom of the stairs. “This looks nice, James.”

James agreed. The fresh coat of paint looked good. “I was just cleaning the brushes,” he remarked, moving back to the kitchen. Rae joined him. “How did the lunch go?” he asked, turning back on the water.

Rae found a cold soda on the bottom shelf of the fridge and offered him one also. When he nodded, she opened it for him, then set it down on the counter beside him. She leaned against the cabinets beside him. “Will you really be upset with me if I sell the business?”

James didn’t know how to answer that question. He hated the idea, but he certainly understood why she was considering it. “I wouldn’t want you to do it because of me, Rae,” he finally said.

She nodded, staring at the soda can for a long time. “The business doesn’t leave time for a relationship, James. That’s the bottom line of it. I have seen you more since the accident than I did for all the months before it.”

She sighed and turned so she could touch his arm. “You still want to be a builder, but the illness says you can’t right now. For the first time, I’m facing a limitation that says the business may not be the best thing for me to do. I want to sell the business so I can avoid the fatigue, so I can continue to have time to write. But I have to be honest, our relationship is also one of the reasons I want to sell. I don’t want to give up my time with you.”

James dried his hands, reached over and pulled her into a hug, careful of her healing ribs. “Rae, forget what I said in the past about your schedule and my energy. I’m not going anywhere. I love you. Do you really want to sell the business? Are you going to regret it in six months?”

Her hands slipped up to his shoulders. “I really want to sell the business.”

“Then sell it.” He leaned down and kissed her. “It will make a honeymoon easier to schedule,” he offered. James watched her blush and found it endearing. He tipped her chin up with one finger, unable to contain his soft laughter. “Rae, I’ve just been waiting for you to recover before I hit you with my timetable. Marry me. I’ve got the chapel reserved for the twenty-fifth.”

She pushed away from him. “Four weeks?”

“See any reason to wait?”

“Besides a dress, invitations, flowers and the rest…no.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, felt her hands curl into his shirt as she leaned into him. He reluctantly broke the kiss so they could breathe. “Good. Lace, Patricia and my mom will help with the arrangements.”

Her arms slid around his waist so she could carefully hug him. “I can’t believe you already reserved the chapel.”

He chuckled. “I reserved it for the last Saturday of every month for the rest of the year,” he assured her. “You’re going to marry me.”

He felt her laughter. “Were you nervous I would say no?”

“With Lace and Dave around? It was never a possibility.” He smiled as he brushed her hair back from her face. “But Dave figured you might play hard to get.”

She leaned back. “Did he?”

“Now Rae, go gentle with him. I figure his turn is coming with Lace.”

“Absolutely.”

“I love you, Rae. I’m sorry it took an accident to make me realize what I was walking away from.”

She gently traced his face with her hand, her expression serious. “It’s okay. I understand better what it is like to have good days and bad days. If you can put up with my cooking, I can adapt to a slower pace of life and quiet evenings.”

“You’re being kind.”

“No, I’m not. I love you.”

James kissed her. “Not as much as I love you.”

Rae grinned and rested her hands on his chest. “How much do you love me, on a scale of one to a hundred?”

James considered the question, smiling at her. “Maybe…about ninety-nine.”

“What?”

She giggled as he teased her with another kiss.

“I still love Africa,” he replied, being fair.

“Would you show it to me someday? Your clinics and your kids?”

James took his time with the next kiss. “It would be my pleasure.”