"You don't need to worry about that." He gestured toward the kitchen. "Why don't you sit down and let me make you some breakfast?"
Her rising frustration at her limitations made her voice sharp. "I don't have time for breakfast. I need to get out there and get to work."
"No, you don't."
"Cord—"
"Honey, the only thing you need to do right now is relax and recover."
"But it's Tuesday!" she burst out.
His hands closed over her upper arms. "Molly." The command in his voice left her no choice but to look up into his serious face. "Will you please sit down? You're worrying me."
The pain had settled sharply on her left side, so even though it made tears of frustration rise to her eyes, she let him lead her into the kitchen and settle her in a chair. He poured her a cup of coffee and placed it on the table before he joined her in the nearest chair. Their knees brushed when he sat down.
"It's Tuesday," he said. "And the No Name isn't going anywhere."
What?
"While you were in the hospital, I called my brother."
He looked chagrined as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand, maybe hiding his embarrassment. "When I thought you might die, I realized what was really important. You. Trying to imagine a life without you…”
He stopped and cleared his throat.
“I wanted you to have a place where you can recover. Someplace you don’t have to jump at every shadow. Thinking like that made it easier to swallow my pride and pick up the phone."
She motioned for him to go on.
"He floated me a loan." He grimaced. "He's saying I don't have to pay him back, but I refuse to think of it as anything other than a loan. The wire transfer went straight to the bank yesterday, and, as of this morning, the loan is current." He squeezed her knee with one big hand. "So you can quit worrying about those stinking tractors."
Relief melded with happiness. "You're going to patch things up with your brother?"
He leveled a stare at her. "You going to keep nagging me if I don't?"
"Probably."
A tiny grin pulled at one side of his mouth. "Figures."
The pain in her side became breath-stealing, and his eyes flicked down to where she pressed her hand against the pulsing wound.
He jumped up from the table. "Let me grab one of your painkillers." He was quick to place the pill and some water on the table in front of her. "You're not supposed to take that on an empty stomach." He turned to the sink and started washing up. "I'll get some toast and eggs on."
She downed the painkiller and slugged the water, knowing she needed it. A shiver wracked through her, and she clasped her hands around the coffee mug, soaking up its warmth.
Even through the haze of pain, she was happy for Cord. He needed this, to reconcile with his brother.
"Your dad's been calling me," he said over his shoulder as he cracked eggs straight into the skillet. "I didn't know whether you'd want to see him again."
"I-I don't know."
She couldn't reconcile her feelings for her father. He'd left her to fend for herself when he should've been there for her. He'd listened to Sandy instead of trusting his own daughter. And it didn't seem like anything had changed. The way he'd talked in the hospital, it had sounded like he wanted to control her rather than help her get back on her feet and live her life the way she wanted. If anything, she wanted to be back on her feet firmly before she had to deal with him again.
Cord was usinga fork to whisk eggs in the frying pan when the front doorbell rang. Screeched actually, an electric jangle that told him it needed to be replaced before a spark from bad writing burned the whole place down.
Another job to add to his list of to-do's.
But instead of frustrating him, today he was grateful to be on the ranch.
