Page 9 of Saving Grace

“Language, Mackinlay,” Ma mutters. A sad smile stretches her lips.

“You seen Reed yet?” Laws asks.

“The first face I saw.”

Laws chuckles and Ma stands, stretching her back. “I’m going to grab some fresh air. Come for a walk, my love?” Ma says to Harry.

“Absolutely, this place is depressing.” He winks as they pad from the room.

Laws sinks into Ma’s chair. “How you really holding up, Mack?”

“I can’t move an inch, and you have no idea how itchy all this shit is.”

“Mack . . .”

“I’m fine. I’m alive, ain’t I?”

“True, but sometimes that feels worse. Especially whe?—”

“I know what you’re goin’ to say. I’m aware of the survivor’s guilt, stages of grief, all that shit. I’m fine. Countin’ my blessings, one rigid limb at a time.”

“Well, at least you won’t be alone.” He sips his coffee and crosses a leg over his opposite knee, ankle resting on it. “How long ’til you get out?”

“Casts are off in two weeks, then I have to wear supports and such. Mobility will be an issue, they tell me. Will need to have an assessment by the physio before I’m discharged.”

“Sounds like you have it all worked out.”

“Yeah, this is totally on my life plan, Laws.” I stare at the window.

Honorable medical discharge.

Which means my only option now is ranching. If I can even get back on a horse. As well as cope with the physical demands of ranch work. For now, everything is up in the air, along with my damn feet.

A soft knock raps on the door. Last night’s doctor stands over the threshold. “How are we feeling this morning?”

“Same as last time I saw you, doc. Hanging around, tryin’ to ignore the pain.”

She makes her way to my bed. If I wasn’t strung up like an invalid and hopped up on painkillers, I would have asked her out. She’s my type. Brunette with a kind face. A gentle disposition and eyes that tell you there is way more to this girl than you get from her with just a conversation. Lawson stands, and I jerk at the movement.

For a second, I forgot I’m not alone. At this rate, my family is never going to let me out of their sight ever again.

Fuckin’ fantastic.

She runs her hands over my torso, checking each bandage for seepage. “How’s the pain today?”

“Manageable.”

“No, not manageable, Mackinlay, we want as little as possible to aid with recovery. The less pain you have, the more your body can focus on healing.”

“Sure. If you say so.”

“I do.” She offers a soft smile.

Lawson’s gaze swings between me and her.Forget it, brother, not happening.

“When do you think we can take our patched-up soldier home?” Lawson asks.

“Well, if all goes to plan, and he can weight bear when the traction comes off, and makes it through his physio assessment... I think about three weeks, give or take a day or two.”

---