“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.
“Hopefully, you should be feeling good as new in a day or two. But in the meantime, no driving.”
Grace’s eyes flickered with worry, but she thanked the doctor anyway.
“Oh, Calvin,” he said, looking at me.
“Yeah, Doc.”
“A nice massage would do her good.” Dr. Reed winked at Grace, and she smiled back.
He patted me on the shoulder with a smirk. Doc was still just as sharp and smooth as he was in his forties.
“You can see Patsy up at the front to handle payment.” He gestured to the door. “It was great meeting you, Grace, and I hope you get to enjoy the rest of your time here.”
Dr. Reed looked to me. “And it’s always a pleasure seeing you, Calvin.” He gave a firm handshake. “You take good care of her.”
“I will, and thanks, Doc.”
Patsy, a petite woman in her sixties with thin lips and curly hair, sat at the front desk, knitting something out of navy blue yarn. I had known her since I was a kid and aside from the gray hair, she hadn’t changed.
“Hey, Calvin. Everything okay?” Patsy asked, setting down her knitting needles. She glanced at me and then at Grace, who looked a little off. I couldn’t tell if she was dazed or just worried about the doc’s orders to take it easy the next couple of days.
“Yeah. Just a mild concussion,” I said.
“That’s good—well, not good. But better than . . . You know what I mean,” Patsy said with a nod. “I’ll just need your insurance card then, sweetheart.” She smiled warmly.
Grace glanced down at her feet and then back at Patsy. “I don’t have my purse with me. I left it back at the ranch.”
“Well, that’s all right. Just write down the insurance company and your information, and I can contact them to submit your claim.” Patsy held out a pad of paper and a pen. Grace took the items from her and wrote out her full name then stopped. She gazed up at the ceiling.
“You all right?” I whispered to her. “Sure you don’t want that MRI?”
Grace’s eyes bounced to me and then back at the pad. She pressed the tip of the pen against the paper. The ink bled, forming a large circle. When you held on to something too long, it always left a mark. The same was true for people.
“No, I just can’t remember the name of my insurance company,” she said.
Patsy gave a worried look and reached for the phone. “Maybe we should get Dr. Reed back up here.”
“No, I’m fine really. I just haven’t had to use it in a while.” Grace studied the paper. She tapped the tip of the pen on the ink blob. “I think it starts with a B.”
I slid the pen from her fingers and set it down on the desk. Her brows drew together and she stared up at me.
“I’ll just pay for it.” I pulled my wallet from my back pocket. “What’s the damage, Patsy?”
She clicked several buttons on her calculator.
“No, Calvin. I’ll take care of it,” Grace urged, putting her hand on my arm. I liked her hand on me.
“Nonsense. My horse. My problem,” I said.
“Two hundred and thirty-one dollars.”
“You really don’t have to.” She gently pulled on my arm.
I could have swum in those blue, blue eyes of hers. “I really do, Grace.” I smiled and handed my card to Patsy.
Her fingers caressed my arm, sending a shiver down my spine. She mouthed, Thank you.
I’d take care of Grace every day of my life if she’d let me and even if she wouldn’t.
17.
Grace
“We don’t need all this stuff,” I said as Calvin placed an ice pack and a bottle of Tylenol in the cart. So far, we had ice cream and chocolate because he said that makes everything better, flowers to brighten up my mood, chicken noodle soup—“for my soul” as he put it—and lotion for the massage the doc ordered.
“But we do.” He smiled, putting a stuffed teddy bear in the cart. “I told ya. I’m going to take real good care of you.”
“What do I need a teddy bear for?” I held it up and gave him a crooked smile. It was soft with a big belly and a tan chest patch.
“For your comfort.” He snatched it from me and set it in the cart’s child seat.
Up at the register, he tossed a couple packs of beef jerky on the counter. “That’s for me,” Calvin said, flashing a toothy grin.
The cashier rang everything up, and Calvin didn’t hesitate to pay for it all, which I thought was odd. He told me earlier the ranch was barely staying afloat. But he’d covered the doctor’s visit and all this without blinking an eye. Either he was bad with money or he had more of it than he was letting on. Calvin grabbed the bags and pulled the teddy bear from one of them, handing it to me.
“The comfort starts now,” he said.
I smiled, held it against my chest, and followed him out of the store.
In the parking lot, I spotted Charlotte dressed in a Dubois Super Foods polo with her head down, focused on her phone.
“Hey, Char,” Calvin called out.
Charlotte looked up, and her face instantly brightened. When she saw me, it dimmed a little, but she forced a smile—so I did too.
“What brings you two here?” Charlotte stopped right in front of us.
I didn’t have the energy to respond. My brain felt like it had been put in a blender, and my back was killing me. I couldn’t wait to lie down.
“Just getting some things for Grace. She got bucked off Gretchen pretty hard.”
I squeezed the teddy bear a little tighter.
“Oh my. Are you all right?” She looked concerned, but it also seemed like she was putting on an act, forcing herself to be nice to me. It was her tone that gave it away, almost like a customer service voice reserved for a rude shopper.