by Alicia Rae
I felt Colton slightly tense against me. An uncomfortable quietness fell over us.
“How is your therapy going?” he inquired, addressing the question that seemed to be looming over us.
I tried to form the most optimistic response. “My therapist, Derek, works me hard, and he pushes me to do better during each visit,” I said fondly. I had a love-hate relationship with the guy, but my progress was mostly his doing, and I was extremely grateful for his guidance and constant encouragement. “He anticipates that I’ll make a full recovery over time, but a few bad days in between the good ones will remain.”
“I’m glad to hear that you will recover though.” Colton’s tension eased. “How much longer do you have in the program?”
“I ask Derek that question all the time.” I outstretched my cramped legs to alleviate the tingling sensation fluttering throughout them, and I crossed my ankles out in front of me. “His only answer is, ‘As long as it takes to get you back in good health.’”
“That sounds like a great answer to me,” Colton drawled in a Southern tone. Leaning into me, he bent forward and hugged me close to his chest. “One day at a time, Paige”—he kissed my temple—“and I promise you, things will get better from here on out.”
The next morning, I made the drive back to Murfreesboro, so I wouldn’t miss my scheduled physical therapy appointment. I usually dreaded going there, but today, for some unknown reason, I felt like a whole new person.
Once I entered the building, I strolled over to the computer stand against the wall and completed the self check-in before making my way to the main area of the facility.
Derek approached me. “Hey, Paige,” he greeted me with his friendly smile in place. “You ready to begin our session?”
“Yep. I’m ready for whatever curveballs you can throw at me,” I chimed back, finding myself grinning in delight.
Derek always had a new challenge for me at every visit, and today, I was going to kick its ass.
“Wow!” he exclaimed in wonder. “I don’t know what has you in such a great mood, but I’ll take it.” He motioned toward the elliptical. “Let’s have you start with your normal warm-up routine and limber up those muscles. Then, we’ll begin today’s exercises.”
“You got it,” I answered before making my way over to one of the machines.
I gently climbed up and settled my feet on the designated footings. After setting the timer and preprogrammed warm-up regimen, I began a measured pace. My right quad and hamstring screamed in usual protest at every passing loop. I pushed the pain out of the forefront of my mind, and I kept going. Halfway through the workout, my muscles heated up and started to give, loosening in my favor.
This was my favorite part of the session. It was when I was at my peak and when I believed light and hope were at the end of the enclosed tunnel I found myself in.
But as the end of my twenty-minute session neared with only thirty seconds left, the shakiness throughout my body crept in, and I was spent. That was how short my burst of energy had lasted.
When the timer dinged, I came to a stop, leaned forward, and rested my upper weight on my hands. I hoped the throbbing sensation in my injured leg would lessen just a bit, giving me the relief I craved.
“Hey,” Derek said, redirecting my attention, as he approached the side of the machine. I rose to my full height as he continued, “Let’s stretch your muscles.”
“All right.” Aware that my feet weren’t steady, I cautiously stepped down to the ground, being careful not to face-plant.
Derek pointed to the third curtain. “Room C is open.”
Dread filled me. The choices were always Room A through E, and all of them held the same meaning to me. Excruciating intense pain would be in my immediate future. It was the kind of pain that had the power to make someone faint.
I followed him into the room and lay down on the cot.
This was the hardest part. After recovering from my surgeries last fall, a large amount of scar tissue had formed in the surrounding area. My orthopedic surgeon hadn’t wanted to make another incision to cut the scar tissue out because more could develop in its place from the additional surgery. The only option was to forcefully bend my leg to stretch the scar tissue and increase my flexibility over a duration of time.
Currently, the range of motion in my right leg was at sixty percent. Derek wanted me back to one hundred percent, but he would settle for ninety percent. To me, it seemed like an unattainable goal. It was a grueling and awful process to manipulate the stiff scar tissue past its confinements. Some days, the agony seemed completely unendurable, and I’d want to beg him to stop and let my leg be—even if it meant it would be that way forever.
Derek stepped up to the table and leaned over me. “Are you ready to begin?” he asked with soft eyes.
I nodded and quietly responded with a simple, “Yes.”
He placed one arm beneath my right calf and set his opposing arm on top of my upper leg. He sluggishly began to bend my leg as far as it would go, raising my knee in the air, and he proceeded to push my ankle toward my inner thigh. Then, Derek straightened my limb, slowly lifting it in the air as he came to stand at the middle of the table. Bracing his shoulder against the back of my knee and hamstring, he pressed my leg toward my body.
I breathed in and out when I felt the inner pull of my muscles, knowing this was still the easy part.
“Good,” he acknowledged, seemingly impressed with my flexibility. “Now, flip over onto your stomach, and let’s try to extend it further.”
Crap. I rolled over onto my belly while anxiety flooded my core.
Right then, memories of my night with Colton at the tree fort took over my thoughts. Nothing compared to the feel of his arms wrapped around me as we had watched the sunset. He could so naturally make me smile, and his kisses were always so complete and loving.
Derek repositioned his hands on my leg, and with greater pressure this time, he began to force my ankle toward my thigh. I felt too stubborn to surrender myself to crying out in pain as I usually did. Instead, I let images of Colton’s face resume their place in my mind.
“Fifty percent,” Derek breathed out loud enough for me to hear.
Hands-down, I hated this more than anything in the world.
“Sixty…” He trailed off, continuing with his movements.
Shit.
As Derek continued to handle my limb, it felt as though someone were digging sharp knives into my leg. Tears crept in. I buried my face in my arms and closed my eyes, locking the tears inside.
I dug deep within myself, and Colton’s baby-blue eyes finally came to me. I loved the way he always looked at me. Oh, and his smile. His lips were so full and soft. They were a breathtaking sight.
“Sixty-three…”
I bit down on my lip to keep from screaming out.
God, it hurts so freaking bad. But I refused to be defeated. I wanted to be able to live my life without worrying about moving in a way that resulted in pain. I wanted to walk a distance in front of my family without seeing their concerned expressions. I yearned to let go of my past, so I could have a future with Colton and ride a horse again someday.
“Sixty-seven…”
“Stop.” I inhaled sharply. “No more.”
Derek instantly released the pressure on my leg. “Okay.” He gradually lowered it back down to the cot.
I was nearly hyperventilating. I twisted my head, resting my cheek on my arm.
“That was great, Paige.” Coming to stand at my side, Derek smiled genuinely. “You should be very pleased with your progress.”
“I can’t quite bring myself to agree with you at the moment.” Distressed, I heaved oxygen into my starved lungs. I was in too great of pain to see it from his standpoint. “Maybe later?” I added jokingly.
“That’s fair.” He laughed flippantly, repositioning himself to the other side of the table. “Let’s finish up here with the left leg to keep things even, and then we’ll move on to y
our routine for the day. I’d like to show you a few new stretches with exercise bands, and then you can keep moving forward while at home.”
“Sounds good to me,” I agreed.
Now that the worst part of physical therapy was over, I could take out all my frustrations while pushing myself to the limits during the upcoming workout. Without sacrifice, dedication, and hard work, there would be no reward.
Later this evening on my drive back home to Shelbyville, I would have to find a little token to say thank you to Colton for being my inspiration.
AFTER AN EARLY DINNER, I slipped a toothpick between my lips and went back outside to get a few extra chores knocked off my list before calling it a night. There was never a dull day while living on a ranch. In truth, most of my time was spent doing hard physical labor, but I loved every second of it.
Thick dark blue clouds were beginning to roll in overhead as I drove my John Deere 6R tractor in the direction of the west pasture. The cattle still needed another bale of hay dropped into their feeders, so they wouldn’t run short. Otherwise, I would have some rather cranky animals in the morning.
I entered the red hay barn, approached the eight-hundred-pound round bale, and pushed forward with the tractor, driving the metal rods right into the center of the hay.
With slow and precise movements, I used the hydraulic lever to pick up the large bale, and I began backing out of the building. I grinned at the rumbling sound of my baby’s dominating six-hundred-and-twenty-five horsepower motor effortlessly moving the weight.
Then, I made my way over to the gray metal gate of the cattle field before shifting the tractor into neutral. Letting the loud engine idle, I hopped down out of the cab and opened the gate wide enough for the tractor to pass through.
After climbing aboard the tractor once again, I slipped it into gear and headed for the feeder, so I could lower the new bale on top of the previous one’s remains. Just as always, all the cattle came running to eat the fresh hay.
Knowing the last of my responsibilities for the evening was now complete, I turned the tractor around in a circle and headed for the exit.
Paige was leaning against the gate with her arms folded over the top bar, observing me with a content smile on her face. She was dressed in a hoodie with her long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail.
As I slowly approached the gate, Paige backed up, getting out of the way. I drove in between the two fence posts and came to a stop a safe distance away from her. From the side mirrors, I saw her shut the gate before walking up alongside the tractor.
I lowered the throttle to a dull rumble, so she could hear me over the noise. Then, I opened the cabin door and motioned for her. “Come on up. I’ll give you a ride,” I said. It hit me then just how much I wanted her to join me.
She assessed the steps of the machine. Knowing the first step was a bit of a jump, I slipped the tractor into park and climbed down to her.
“Here,” I said, offering my hand to her. “Let me help you.”
“Okay,” she murmured.
I could sense her hesitation.
I gave her a reassuring smile, and she locked her hand with mine. I inwardly debated the easiest way to get her on the tractor. Since picking her up under her legs would indubitably hurt her, I went for her waist and lifted her straight in the air as gently as possible. A thin drawstring bag slung over her shoulders hit me square in the face. She firmly planted her feet on the first step and continued upward to the cabin without any trouble.
Paige leaned as far over toward the windshield as she could while I slipped into the leather seat.
I glanced up at her and patted my leg while releasing a mischievous grin. “The cabin’s not made for two, so come here and snuggle in.”
She raised her brows at me and mirrored my expression with a witty one of her own. “I’m sure you don’t mind the small space.”
“Not at all,” I drawled in my Southern accent. I hummed throatily in appreciation as she neared, watching the way her blue jeans molded against her sexy curves.
Once she was seated atop my right thigh, I moved her small bag to the side, so I could shift over to the left. I pressed my chest against her back while resting my chin above her collarbone, allowing me to see out the front windshield.
She rotated her head toward me, and our faces were just inches apart.
Her exquisite brown eyes were filled with excitement as she asked, “Can I drive?”
I recalled Paige as a kid, begging her father to ride one of his heavy machineries, only to be told that it was too risky. Today, we were grown adults, and I had a tractor of my own.
“Sure. Take the wheel.”
I guided her hands to the steering wheel, and her fingertips curled around it.
I skillfully used my tongue to move the toothpick to the corner of my mouth. “Now, set your right foot on the brake pedal and press it all the way down to the floor. Then, use your left foot to do the same with the clutch,” I instructed.
I pointed down to the pedals, and she did as I’d asked.
“A tractor works a little differently than an ATV. You need to use equal measures of releasing the clutch while increasing the throttle attached to the steering column to the right of the wheel,” I finished, showing her the small lever.
“Okay…” she replied, trying to keep up with all my instructions. “It sounds like a piece of cake,” she joked.
“Don’t worry. It is.” I used an encouraging tone, observing her as she settled in. “Just remember this has a lot more power.”
“I’ll be careful,” she reassured me.
I could feel her eagerness returning.
“Just be ready to take the wheel if you think we’re going to crash,” she added.
“I won’t let you crash.” I laughed with a great deal of mirth. “All right. Now, on your right is a control panel to shift the tractor into gear.”
Paige repositioned herself to glance down at the gearshift. “Uh, there are about twenty different controls over here.” She snickered. “You’ll need to be more specific than that.”
I snuck my right arm around her back, set my hand on top of hers, and guided her to the right lever. “This one,” I said softly, pressing our hands forward. “Gradually let go of the brake,” I directed her, moving our joined hands from the lever back over to the throttle on the steering column, “and increase the speed.”
“Here we go!” Paige squealed.
I observed the huge tires on the tractor beginning to turn, pushing us forward.
I let my hands come to her sides, and I burrowed my body against hers, reveling in her excitement. “She’s all yours.”
All the while, I kept my eyes on the path and searched our surroundings to make sure we were a safe distance away from my new wooden fences and the many buildings and obstacles spread throughout the property.
She made a wide loop and breached the edge of the orchard. The Liberty apple trees were in full bloom, bearing bright red apples, which reminded me they would need to be picked soon. We came to a gravel path separating the apple trees from the pear trees.
“Can I go in between?” she shouted back at me.
“Yeah. Just don’t get too close.”
She smoothly maneuvered us along the rocks, positioning us in the middle of the two mature fruit trees.
At the end of the row, we neared a new section of my white fence. I lifted my hands and held them in the air, hovering above hers, as I held my breath. She turned us around in the grass to make another loop. I released the air in my lungs on a whoosh when the wood remained intact. Her movements had been smooth and precise, and I was quite proud of her.
She briefly tipped her head back and beamed at me. “You okay back there, cowboy?”
“I am now.” I unleashed a satisfied grin. “I appreciate you not taking out my fence.”
“You’re most welcome.”
She laughed wholeheartedly, and I marveled in the sound. It had been so long since I last heard t
hat carefree laughter of hers.
Damn, how I’ve missed that.
Paige was now heading west in the direction of the horse barn. I noticed the sun was receding behind the roof of the building, and an array of colors filled the sky.
“Look,” I breathed along her ear, aiming my index finger toward the light.
Paige brought the tractor to a rest, and she gave her full attention to the scenery. In that instant, it suddenly dawned on me that whether Paige and I were chasing the next sunset or spending time together in the evening, a sun setting in the sky always seemed to find us at one point or another.
“Wow, it’s so pretty,” she crooned. “That’s two we’ve seen this week.”
She tried to snuggle back into me, but the bag had meshed its way between us.
“What’s in that bag of yours?” I asked, shifting the material over.
“A present.” She slightly repositioned herself until I could see her face. Her eyes were glowing with mischief. “But I’m not ready to share it with you quite yet.”
I pinched my brows together in confusion, eagerly wanting to know more. “Share it with me?” I inquired. “How can you share a gift?”
“Easily.” Paige laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “Some of it is for you, and the rest is for me.”
The only guess I had was that it had to be food, but I decided to be impish and playful instead. “Are you sure you don’t want to give it to me now?” I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her to me. “Once I have whatever it is in my hands, maybe I won’t share any of it with you.”
She gasped at me, stifling her laughter. “That’s not nice!”
“Neither is teasing,” I rebutted her with a devilish smirk.
Paige attempted to ease out of my hold, and I relinquished her, so I wouldn’t risk hurting her leg. I was still unsure of her boundaries.