Healing Trace Read Online Free PDF Page A

how his
attitude affected her during the time they were together.
    She
often bit down on her bottom lip and a few times, he'd witnessed a slight
tremble in her hands when she helped him. He hated himself for being an
asshole, but that's who he was and he didn't plan to change anytime soon.
    "How
is your pain level?" She glanced at his leg.
    "Fine."
    "I'm
glad to hear that. You're doing very well. Better than the doctor expected, I
believe. You're going longer between pain pills too." She folded the
blanket lying on the floor and placed it on the end of the couch. "Are you
ready for breakfast?"
    "I've
already ate." He swept his hair behind his shoulders. "Devon put some
food in the fridge, since you missed the meal. You can go warm up a plate for
yourself."
    "Oh."
She pursed her lips and frowned. "Okay."
    "Before
you go, can you bring the crutches to me?" He lifted his brows.
"Please."
    For
some reason, he was going to put out the effort to get along. She'd proven that
she wasn't going anywhere, and if it meant getting back out in the saddle
sooner, he'd play along to make the time go faster.
    "Sure."
She turned around and headed out of the room. "Let me grab a cup of coffee,
and then I'll bring your crutches to you.
    "Wait."
    She
froze, pivoted on her toes, and gazed at him. "Yes?"
    "You'll
let me have them?"
    She
nodded. "Yes. I think it's a good idea to start using them, and building
up your strength."
    "Thanks."
He inhaled deeply, feeling like shit for snapping at her. "I know I'm not
easy to get along with, but if you promise not to force me to take any of that
damn pain medicine, I'll try not to…you know."
    She
grinned. "Act like a dumbass?"
    The
transformation that came with her teasing left him smiling inside. He nodded.
"Yeah, you could call me that."
    She
laughed. A musical sound that had him grinning back at her, and wanting her to
bestow a smile upon him more often. He wouldn't need anything to dull the pain,
with the way his body reacted to her. At this moment, he was only feeling the
pleasure of her approval, and he liked it.
    "I'll
be right back." She hurried out of the room.
    He
never asked the women in his past to stick around on a day-to-day basis before,
and having Joan here kept him on edge. He had no interest involving anyone in
his life. It was complicated enough without adding the dynamics of a
relationship. He wasn't even sure he knew how to have a healthy one-on-one
commitment with someone else. Besides, Joan was his nurse. Period.
    When
she asked him to take his medicine, made sure he moved his toes to increase
blood circulation in his leg, and propped his leg higher than his heart to rid
himself of swelling, she was the one who appeared more knowledgeable about his
own body. He resented her attitude. She didn't know a damn thing about him. Yet
if not for her, who would help him?
    He
couldn't expect the other guys to drop what they were doing to run to his side
every time he had to use the bathroom or bring him the phone. He sighed in
frustration. His friends had done their best to be there for him since he was
six years old, and he knew he couldn't rely on them forever.
    If
he spent the rest of his life making up for his past, he'd never be able to pay
them back for what they'd done for him. He rubbed his chest, hating the tension
that came with remembering.
    Joan
had him overthinking every emotion he'd buried long ago—ones he swore never to
feed or allow to surface. It made him feel vulnerable, edgy, and ready to run.
    Escaping
was plain stupid when he thought about it. He had the life he'd always wanted.
He came and went from the reservation, and found safety on Lakota ranch. He had
no space in his life to wonder what it would be like to have all of Joan's
softness and light touch directed at him.
    No,
his place was here. He belonged to the land where time never changed and people
couldn't hurt him. He knew what to expect each morning when he woke up and at
night, if he tried hard enough, he