Healing Trace Read Online Free PDF

sometimes succeeded in forgetting.
    Joan
came back carrying his temporary legs for the next six weeks in one hand, and a
coffee mug in the other. "Let me help you up, and then I'll hand you the
crutches. Have you ever used them before?"
    "Yeah,
more times than I want to remember." He took her hand, but refused to rely
on her strength to pull him to his feet. He wasn't that helpless.
    She
barely came to his chin, but he'd found out in a hurry that she wasn't shy
about using her strength. She had ways to pick him up from the couch that had
him thinking she had super human strength. She probably learned those tricks in
nursing school.
    "Take
a minute to get your balance. Your cast will protect your leg if you fall or
bump it while you walk, but you don't want to hurt any other part of you."
She moved out of the way. "You also don't want to go too far. It's always
harder to walk back to where you came from."
    "I
need to go outside." He gripped the pads, hopped, and began the motion of
crutching across the floor.
    "What
are you gonna do outside?" She followed behind him.
    "Sit."
    She
placed her hand on his lower back when he leaned too far to the left.
"Where?"
    "Porch."
    She
hustled around him, opened the door, while he maneuvered over the doorjamb.
"May I come outside with you?"
    He
stopped, turned his head, and lifted his brow. "Is this your attempt at
making me stay on the porch?"
    A
dimple he hadn't noticed before popped out on her cheek. "Of course not.
I'd like to walk around the yard while you get fresh air. You're not the only
one who gets cooped up in the house and enjoys the outdoors."
    Not
wanting to let her know her answer pleased him, he shrugged. "Do what you
want. I don't need you."
    The
flash of disappointment he recognized on her face had him wanting to take his
words back. He continued to the rocker and sat down. Feeling damn lucky that he
only had a cast from below his knee to his toes, and not the full leg cast he
wore five years ago.
    Using
the crutch, he pulled a small drink table in front of him and propped his leg
up. He leaned back, and willed his body to relax. His muscles trembled worse
than a newborn foal on its first time standing. In a few more days, he'd have
to spend an hour or two in Brody's weight room, so he didn't lose strength in
his upper body.
    Joan
slipped off her shoes, skipped down the steps, and wandered out in the yard.
Trace sat at his spot on the porch. Every now and then, he'd glance away from
Joan to look around, and the craving would hit him. Not once had he ever taken
his life for granted.
    The
grass went to the horizon, and the property lines were far enough away it took
a day's ride on horseback to go half way. The space allowed him his peace and
quiet. The animals challenged him in ways he understood, and knew how to deal
with. People were another matter.
    Occasionally,
he'd head into town to make sure he hadn't lost all social skills. He'd relieve
his pent up frustrations with a willing woman, and then come back to the ranch.
It was the routine he could handle and accept in his life.
    He
loved having Brody and Devon around. They were his family, and because they'd
always been part of his life, he enjoyed their companionship. They were safe.
He glowered at Joan. She stood out of place like a sheep on a cattle ranch.
    Joan
strolled along the flowerbed, her hands hooked into her back pockets, letting
her toes dig into the green grass. His breath hitched in his chest. What was a
beautiful woman doing traveling from house to house, taking care of invalids?
    He
remembered her saying she delivered meals to the elderly and disabled around
town, yet she was a registered nurse. She never shared anything personal about
her own life, and he found himself curious to know more about her. Where did
she come from? Was there a man in her life?
    "Trace?"
Joan stood still, gazing back at the house. "Who planted all the
flowers?"
    "That's
Devon's doing. He has a real talent for making things grow,