Chapter Nine

Charlotte

 

My eyes opened in another bright room. The walls were painted a clean white, the curtains hanging on the large window were drawn to let the sunlight in, and everything looked sterile.

“You’re awake,” a nurse said, leaning down to make eye contact. “How do you feel?” she asked.

I couldn’t feel anything. I tried to speak, but that familiar soreness was back. “Don’t speak if it hurts. Just nod,” she said. “Are you in any pain?”

I shook my head.

“Can you feel this?”

I felt her poke my arm. I nodded.

“Great.” She disappeared.

My arm was now wearing a large cast. A pin stuck out of my wrist with a large, pink ball on the end of it. Ugh. How am I going to find a job now?

The doctor, Doctor Jack, walked into my room. He was smiling, so I assumed that was a good sign. He shuffled through my chart, pausing to look up at me occasionally, and then inspected my arm, admiring his work with a smile. “Everything looks great,” he said. “The surgery went very well. You’ll have the pins removed in six weeks, after that, another couple weeks and you should be back to new. I don’t see any reason to keep you. The nurses will get your discharge papers ready and explain your at-home care instructions,” he said quickly, and then rushed out of the room before I could ask any questions.

I tried to scoot up, but I couldn’t. The nurse came back in, holding some papers. “We are going to discharge you. Do you have anyone waiting to take you home?” she asked.

“I’ll call a cab,” I said quietly.

She gave me a look of pity, one that I didn’t need right in that moment. That was what had got me into this situation in the first place: pity. “There’s no one I can call for you?” she asked.

I shook my head.

I knew I could call Tracy, but I didn’t see the need. I could get a cab. It was just a broken arm and a few broken ribs. “You really need someone with you during the first few hours after surgery. The medication is pretty strong, and we can’t have you trying to do something that could destroy the surgeon’s work,” she said, tilting her head sideways as she smiled.

“Tracy,” I mumbled.

Her smile widened as she gripped the papers. “Awesome. Give her a call, and I’ll speak to her,” she said, handing me my cell phone from a plastic bag containing my belongings.

“Where are my clothes?” I asked.

“I’m sorry. They had to cut them off of you when you came in,” she frowned.

My throat hurt to talk, but I wanted to scream. What was I supposed to wear home? This gown with no back?

I found Tracy’s number and handed the nurse my phone when it started ringing. I heard her answer, and her voice echo through the speaker. The nurse explained that I needed a ride home, and someone to care for me for a few hours, possibly overnight. “Of course. I’ll be right there,” Tracy’s voice echoed into the room.

My body relaxed, leaning back into the stiff mattress on the hospital bed as the nurse stuffed my phone back into my bag.

“Do not wrap anything around your body to splint your ribs. Practice soft coughing and breathing exercises to avoid a collapsed lung, and apply ice as needed to reduce pain. It looks like the doctor gave you Percocet for pain, so that will work for both your arm and your ribs. Take it as prescribed, and with food. You should be back here in six weeks to get your pins removed, and by then your ribs should be healed, allowing you to go back to your normal lifestyle,” the nurse rattled off so many instructions I could barely keep up.

“Six weeks?” I asked, feeling my eyes well up with tears of frustration. “I don’t have anyone to take care of me for six weeks,” I said, fighting the urge to sob.

“Yes, you do,” I turned to see Owen standing in my doorway.

My mouth fell open, but I couldn’t speak.

“She’s in good hands,” Owen said, taking the papers from the nurse’s hand.

His tall, muscular frame stood over me, his smile brightening the already well-lit room. I stared into his blue eyes, trying to figure out if I was dreaming. I had to be dreaming.

“Tracy said she’s coming to pick me up,” I mumbled.

“I told her to stay home,” he said sweetly.

He fumbled through the papers, and then smiled. “Looks like you’ll have to stay with me for a while,” he said.

“I can’t,” I protested.

“You don’t think I can take care of you?” he asked, his eyebrow rising high on his forehead.

I smiled. “It’s too much. Why would you even want to?” I asked.

My head was spinning. I was still loopy from the medicine. This had to be a dream.

“You just rest,” he said.

“Well, hello. Did you not go home at all?” a brunette nurse asked Owen as she walked into my room.

“Yeah, I went home and cleaned up,” he said with a warm smile.

“I saw you sleeping in the lobby when I came in at six. The triage nurse told me you’d been out there all night,” she said, looking at me with a smile. “He must really love you,” she added, and then handed him a paper to read on rib fractures.

“You were here all night?” I asked after the nurse had left us alone.

“I came after I left Mr. Thompson’s,” he said.

“And stayed here all night, for me?” I asked, still in shock.

He didn’t speak. His smile told me everything. My heart swelled in my chest, causing my ribs to ache. I didn’t care. The pleasure was worth the pain.

“I brought you some clothes,” he said quickly, shoving a bag onto the bed.

“You went to my house?” I asked.

“I bought em’. I figured you’d want something comfortable. It’s just sweat pants and a t-shirt. Socks, underwear—nothing sexy, just cotton ones,” he said, blushing as he spoke.

That had to be the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. “Oh, and Tracy called your parents. They know you’re okay, and that you’ll be staying with me. She’ll give them the address so they can come by after we get you settled,” he said like it was nothing.

“You seriously want me to stay with you for six weeks?” I asked.

“For starters. Then, I’d really like to work on forever,” he said with a smile.

He pulled the clothes he bought from out of the bag and placed them on the bed. “Can I help you?” he asked.

I nodded, trying my best to contain my excitement. I wanted to scream out with joy, even though it would hurt like hell. He was gentle and patient as he helped me into my new clothes. I giggled as he pulled my panties on; they were not sexy, he had that right, and about two sizes too big. “I don’t understand women’s sizes,” he said, blushing.

The t-shirt, sweat pants, and socks were perfect, and he even had a pair of tennis shoes in the bag, although they were also about two sizes wrong, only too small. “I have my boots,” I said with a grin.

He slid them on my feet, telling me I was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen in a pair of sweats with cowgirl boots. I knew I looked ridiculous, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was that Owen wanted to work on forever…and I thought maybe I did, too.

Loading me into Owen’s pickup truck proved to be a task. The nurse helped him hoist me up into the cab, and then patted me on the leg to wish me luck before closing the door.

“I don’t want you doing this because you feel like you have to, or that it’s the right thing to do,” I protested as Owen climbed into the driver’s side of the truck.

He laughed. “Trust me, I’m not that guy. The only reason I’m doing this is because I want to do this,” he said.

I leaned back in the seat, watching the road go by as we made our way to Owen’s ranch. When we pulled up to the house, the older man whom I’d seen a couple times before was standing at the front door.

“I thought you were going home,” Owen said as he climbed out of the cab.

“Yeah, well, I thought you could use a hand with Charlotte,” he said.

He knew my name. I knew his was Charlie because Owen talked so highly about him. Did that mean he was talking about me?

Owen opened the door and smiled. “You ready for this?” he asked.

I gritted my teeth and took his hand, slowly lowering myself to the ground. Charlie smiled as I made it to my feet without crying. “You okay to walk?” he asked.

I nodded.

He helped us into the house, and then asked if there was anything we needed. I heard Owen talking to him at the door as I sat on the large couch where we first made love. “You made the right decision. You deserve to be happy,” Charlie said softly.

“I think if I’m gonna be happy, this one here is the one to make it happen,” Owen said.

The door shut, and Owen made his way back to me. He sat on the couch, close, but not too close. “I didn’t even ask you if this is what you wanted,” he said, sounding apologetic.

“Yes. It is,” I admitted. “Just until I can take care of myself, though,” I insisted.

“We’ll see how it goes,” he smiled.

“I mean, after all, you’ll be working here, so it just makes sense to stay. You won’t be able to drive for a while,” he added.

“Do you really want to do this?” I asked.

His eyes narrowed, his lips curled into a smile as he nodded. “Since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he said.