I hated leg day. The sharp pain in my lower back made it damn near impossible to get through an entire set. My physical therapist had told me time and time again that it was a necessary evil.

On my last visit, she’d told me I was starting to lose a little too much muscle mass in my thighs and calves. A major concern, apparently; an impediment on my long recovery.

I know it’s difficult, she had said. But you’re making great progress. Take it slow and don’t overdo it. That’s what the wheelchair is for.

I had the dumb thing just off to the side. I had been making great progress, but every time my eyes fell to its cold metal frame, I couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t fast enough. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t need my wheelchair by the time I turned twenty. I was twenty-five now, and the stupid thing was still here. I rolled my head to one side on the mat and looked around. The little home gym I shared with my roommate, Thomas, was nothing to sneeze at. We had a few weight machines, many of them modified to take my wheelchair into account, as well as a set of free weights.

I knew I should have been grateful. Everyone had told me that I probably wasn’t going to be able to walk again after the accident. But there I was.

They told me it was a miracle, but I disagreed. Miracles had nothing to do with it. Nobody saw how much effort and hard work I had to put in, how much pain I’d had to endure to get where I was now.

I couldn’t even wiggle my toes after I broke my back. But now I could stand, I could walk, albeit for short periods at a time.

No, miracles had nothing to do with it at all.

I lay with my back flat against the foam mat as I strained to lift my legs off the ground. My core was tight, my skin sticky, my back throbbing in agony. It felt like something was pinching.

In fact, I knew there was something pinching. The doctors had managed to fix most of the damage from my fall. It had taken surgery after surgery, but the nerve damage had lasting effects.

Most days, it was a dull pain, a discomfort that I was always aware of. But on days like this, when I tried my hardest to get better, it was sharp and shooting.

I struggled through another rep of leg lifts before finally giving up. My heart was pounding in my ears, I was short of breath, and sweat dripped from my brow. The muscles in my neck were tight, and my abdomen was thoroughly fatigued.

I placed one of my hands on my chest and studied the pounding rhythm of my heartbeat against my palm. Leg days really were the worst, and they weren’t getting any easier.

Keys jingled in the hallway, followed by the soft click of the front door unlocking. I frowned. Thomas was never usually home this early.

I rolled onto my side and used my arms to push myself up, struggling to my feet and leaning against the nearby leg press. The effort left me breathless. But I’d rather feel like my heart was about to burst from panic than let him see me like this.

“Where you at, Jacob?” shouted Thomas from the entrance.

“In here,” I called back.

His feet shuffled across the wooden floor of the apartment. Thomas rounded the corner, entirely visible through the open door. He frowned almost immediately, that familiar look of pity behind his eyes.

“Dude,” he snapped. Thomas walked over to me quickly and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “What did I tell you about working out without me home?”

“I’m fine,” I insisted.

“What if you hurt yourself?”

“I said I’m fine.” I stood up as straight as I could, puffed my chest out. “I was taking it slow.”

Thomas started towards my wheelchair and reached out to grab it by its handles, but I snatched his wrist and stopped him mid-stride. He glared at me, lips pursed into a thin line.

“What did I say about the coddling?” I questioned.

“Jesus,” he sighed, “I’m not coddling you, Jacob. I just don’t want to see my brother-in-law land his ass back in the hospital again. Do you have any idea how upset Sarah was the last time?”

I bit my lip. Sarah was my elder sister, and the only one in my family who’d followed me out of Dover. Or rather, I’d followed her out of Dover.

She was always too bright and full of life to be stuck on the family farm. When she found out she had been accepted to the University of Chicago, she had been so excited. She was practically packed and ready to go by the time our father finished reading her acceptance letter.

When it was my turn to attend college, Sarah had offered to let me stay with her. The main excuse we used on Mother was that I would be a lot closer to my physical therapists and all the good doctors. The real excuse was that I just couldn’t stand to be on that farm anymore. Not since the accident. But Mother didn’t need to know that.

Sarah had met Thomas in college –- they took the same Intro to Psychology class -– and the rest was history. They’d married two years ago, and despite my fervent insistence that I should move out to give them space, Sarah wouldn’t hear of it. She had seen me one too many times collapsed on the floor, one too many times keeled over in brutal pain.

So happy couple plus me made three.

“Fine,” I mumbled under my breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Thomas said with a nod.

He wheeled the chair over to me. Thomas lined up the edge of the seat with the back of my knees. Reluctantly, I sat as I let out a heavy sigh.

Exhaustion spread throughout my body. The relief on my throbbing back muscles was almost immediate. I wiped at my brow with the back of my forearm as he pushed me out into the living room. He parked me beside the white leather couch facing the LED television, momentarily leaving to hang up his coat.

“Have you heard from Sarah?” I asked curiously.

“She just touched down in Tokyo. Said she’d call later.”

I chuckled quietly to myself.

“What?”

“I’m proud of her,” I muttered. “Big fancy lawyer representing big fancy companies. My grandfather would be rolling in his grave.”

“You don’t think he’d be proud of her?”

I shook my head. “Nah. He was more … old fashioned, I guess.”

“Ah,” said Thomas with an understanding nod. “Keep the wife on the homestead, eh?”

“Pretty much.”

“Speaking of homesteads, I heard back from the bank,” he said from where he was in the hall.

“Oh?”

“Your hunch was right. Breakaway Ranch is on the brink of bankruptcy.”

A small grin stretched across my lips. “How terrible,” I said, a tone of feigned concern in my words.

“You really have a knack for flipping properties,” commented Thomas as he returned to me. He flopped down onto the couch, lifted his legs, and rested them on the coffee table.

“Everybody’s good at something,” I said with a shrug.

“How’d you know it was on the decline?”

“I used to live around there, remember? Nothing but farms and pastures. The place has been economically depressed since the housing bubble burst. I’m surprised Breakaway managed to stick around for this long, to be honest.”

Thomas chuckled as he leaned his head back against the couch cushions. “I’ve already scheduled an appointment with the bank reps. They’re going to meet us at the ranch first thing tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Good.”

“Make sure to pack your painkillers,” he reminded me.

“Coddling,” I stressed.

“Sorry.”

I grabbed the rims of the wheelchair and started to turn, pointing myself in the direction of the bathroom, in desperate need of an after-workout shower.

“Do you want to make a stop to visit your family?” Thomas asked me quickly before I could roll myself away. “Sarah mentioned you haven’t spoken with your father in a while.”

“Heck no,” I muttered. “The less time we have to spend out in the sticks the better. We’re just going to look at the property, maybe grab a few measurements. That’s it.”

“If you say so.”

My stomach flipped. I hadn’t been home in years. It was better this way.

I couldn’t stand the thought of being out there for longer than necessary. I didn’t want to surround myself with the smells of dirt and horse shit. This was a simple job: get in, get out, get rich.

If things went smoothly with Breakaway Ranch’s owner, we’d have a new subdivision community up and built in a snap. We could earn double, very possibly even triple, the amount spent buying the property out. So, no, I didn’t want to stop by for a visit.

If my family missed me, they could call.

I wheeled myself down the hall to the bathroom and closed the door behind me, then carefully stood up, leaning against the edge of the sink counter for support. My legs were shaky under my weight. Each step I took forward was unsure, as if the tiles beneath my feet would suddenly fall out from beneath me.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and noted the way sweat made my short brown hair cling to the edges of my face. My cheeks were red from over-exertion. I grimaced as the muscles in the small of my back tightened with my movements.

Stepping carefully over the edge of the tub, I turned on the spray, feeling the warm rush of water over my aching body. I rubbed my arms and chest, lathering my scented body wash into my skin. I had to sit down on the edge of the cold porcelain tub as I scrubbed down, shoulders hunched from weariness. As I breathed in the hot steam, I thought about the promises of tomorrow.

Suburbs had been springing up like crazy, and lots of people –- the kind with a ton of cash -– had been looking to invest in property. They thought bigger meant better, and I was inclined to agree. If they wanted massive backyards their kids could play in, or property large enough for a four-door garage, I could make that happen. I had been scouting Breakaway Ranch and the surrounding farmland for months.

I imagined it over and over in my head. Tomorrow was going to go smoothly. Thomas and I would walk away with the rights to the property, the former ranch owner –- probably some crotchety old cowboy the world had left behind to tend his cattle -– would be damn happy to walk away from the place, and I would be that much richer.

It was all fine and good if you were happy with the little things in life, but the city had spoiled me. All that really mattered was money. The more of it I had, the nicer my bank account would look. And the nicer my bank account looked, surely the happier I’d be.

Because at the end of the day, all of those medical bills I had tucked away in my office desk drawer weren’t going to pay for themselves. Breakaway Ranch was going to take care of everything, and I was determined to see it all through.