You Shouldn't Have Come Here(26)

“You’re not seriously carrying me all the way?” She raised an eyebrow. The sun highlighted her button nose.

“I most certainly am. I’ll carry you around for the next six days if I have to.”

A small laugh escaped her mouth, and she rested her head on my shoulder. I felt her body finally relax in my arms. “You smell nice, Calvin,” Grace said, looking up at me through them long eyelashes of hers.

“I think that fall might have rattled something loose and messed with your sense of smell,” I joked.

When we reached my truck, I gently set her down beside it and opened the passenger door for her. Grace stood in front of me, her hands resting on my chest to steady herself.

“I’m going to put the horses away quick, and then I’m taking you to the clinic.”

She let her fingers slither down my chest and stomach and then she brought them to her side. I thought she was going to protest, but she just nodded instead. She knew she didn’t have a choice.



Grace was seated on the examination table, fidgeting with her fingers and stirring her dangling legs. She seemed nervous, but I supposed a doctor’s office wasn’t the most comfortable place to be, especially on vacation. Dr. Reed stuck up his pointer finger and moved it in front of Grace’s face, asking her to follow it with her eyes. I had known Doc all my life. He was a short man, now in his sixties with a comb-over to cover up his bald spot. I think he thought he was pulling it off, but it looked like a bird’s nest was perched on top of his head. I’d never tell him that though. After all, he was the only decent doctor in nearly a hundred miles.

“Do you know what you were doing before you hit your head?” he asked.

“Horseback riding.”

He looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded.

Dr. Reed picked up his clipboard and jotted down some notes. “Do you know what day of the week it is, Grace?”

She looked around the room and a blank stare came over her.

“She’s on vacation, Doc. No one knows what day it is when they’re on vacation.”

He chuckled. “That’s true. It’s Thursday, in case you were wondering.”

Grace smiled tightly.

“What’s your full name?” he asked.

She squinted her eyes like she was trying to conjure up the answer, and a pang of worry flashed through me. Dr. Reed paused his note-taking and studied her. “You do know your name, don’t you?”

Doc shot me a worried look and pulled a penlight from his front pocket. He shined the light from the outer corner of each eye to the inside. Grace squinted but kept them open.

“Grace Evans,” she blurted out like she had just woken from a trance.

“Your pupils responded quickly to the light, so that’s a good sign,” he said, pocketing the penlight. “Where do you live?”

She hesitated again, looking up toward the ceiling, searching for the right answer.

Dr. Reed scribbled down more notes.

“New York City.”

“All right, good. Any dizziness or nausea?”

She shook her head.

“Hear any ringing in your ears?”

“No,” she said.

Dr. Reed tilted his head. “Can you tell me the three words I asked you to remember when you first sat down on this examination table?”

“Red, house, fish,” Grace said without hesitation.

He nodded. “Very good.”

“I’ll be honest, Doc, I didn’t remember them myself,” I joked.

“Well, we’ll have to get you up on this examination table next then,” he said with a laugh.

Grace cracked a smile.

“I didn’t hit my head though.”

“I’ve known you all your life, Calvin. No doubt in my mind that you got some screw loose up there,” Dr. Reed teased. “Let me have a quick look at your lower back,” he said to Grace.

She pulled up her shirt just enough for him to have a look. He pressed on the skin along her spine and then pulled her shirt back down, retaking his place in front of her.

“You’ve got some swelling and bruising on your back, so you’ll want to ice it and take Tylenol for the pain. As far as your head goes, you have a mild concussion. I’m a bit worried because of some of your delayed responses, so to be safe I’d suggest an MRI to ensure there’s no brain damage.” Dr. Reed pursed his lips together and capped his pen.

“Brain damage?” Grace asked. Her eyes bounced from the doc to me and back to him again.

“Although unlikely, I like to err on the side of caution when it comes to head injuries.”

“No, I’d rather not,” she replied. “I feel fine.”

“Is an MRI necessary, Doc?” I asked.

It was clear Grace didn’t want one, so I wanted her to know I was on her side . . . I’d always be on her side.

“It’s my professional opinion, but it is your choice, Grace.”

She hopped down from the exam table. “Thank you, Dr. Reed, but really, I feel fine.”

Dr. Reed raised an eyebrow. “Okay. You’ll want to take it easy then. Like I said, Tylenol and ice. If you have any nausea, vomiting, extreme fatigue, or anything like that, please call me right away.”

“I will,” she said.