It might be my limit every day from now on. I’m not actually sure what my limits look like after seeing Cord come off that bull and be tossed beneath its hooves like a dusty salad. I’m not sure I have the smarts to find out.
He clings to me, the weight of his doubts and mine manifesting into something physical, though his shoulders remain tight beneath the shirt that West has dressed him in to come home. I both admire and am terrified for him.
The Coyote Falls boys will be responsible for a large chunk of Cord’s recovery, giving him support in the way that they always have. Naturally, Levi has cooked for everyone.
I lead him into the bedroom, that being my first goal. Then shoes, because I know it will bother him to have walked all this way in his boots on the flooring he’s so protectiveof.
“Sit down, Cord. Let me do something for you.” I purse my lips, cataloging every ache he reaches for, every time he rotates a joint. West sent all the doctor’s reports to my phone, and I’ve been reading them, over and over.Overwhelmdoesn’t start to cover it. That West did this on his own with a then half-built house last time blows my mind.
Cord pretends to stretch, turning his face to hide a wince that creases his forehead. “I’m fine, babe. The PT wanted me walking around.”
“Mmm, there’s also that directive from the surgeon not to overdo it.”
Cord growls softly.
I cough to hide my smile. Okay, so it looks like neither of us is prepared to be totally honest. At least, not yet.
“Overdo it, get up and walk, lie down and do nothing…We got our miracle, and I still have blinders on,” he mutters, easing himself onto the bed. Breath hisses through his teeth. His lips whiten as he lies back and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Fuck.”
I take the opportunity to kneel, sliding Cord’s shoes off. His hand rests on my head, tugging upward.
“Lanie, stop. Please.” A tremor lies beneath the strain in his voice.
I look up, holding his deep gaze. “Don’t clench your teeth. You’ll get a headache,” I whisper, still working at his boot. “Let me help you.”
Pride battles with a plethora of other emotions for prime real estate on his strained face. The need to be independent, to prove the bull hasn’t crippled him again. All the support in the world is on offer and he still needs to do it all himself, even when he doesn’t have to. That’s the reason he is who he is.
The reason I love him most.
“I can’t do anything at all.” He reaches for me without bending his back, tugging me gently up to him. “Lettingothers help is all I can do right now.”
“I don’t remember you whining like this before.” I perch carefully next to him.
“I’m not going to break, Lanie.”
“Uh-huh.” I stroke the corner of his strained smile. “What do you need right now?”
His arms fold around me, pulling me into him. I sigh inside the circle of his arms, resting my cheek on his chest. His heartbeat thumps slow and strong just like before.
That hasn’t changed.
“Right now, I want everyone to leave, give me time with you, and sleep. For a week,” he groans. “What I want is my home back.”
“Winnie might get upset if you tell her to leave.” I cup my hand to the bristles on his cheek.
He leans into my touch, and my heart cramps. “Westmight get upset if I tell her to leave,” he counters.
I raise an eyebrow. “You noticed that, too, did you?”
“Anyone with eyes can see that. That’s not what I broke, Lanie.” Again, that quaver.
I wriggle into the center of the bed. Cord scoots back slowly.
“You’re going to get tired of me as a crippled old man.” Cord closes his eyes, his breathing regular, though faint lines crease the corners of his mouth that weren’t there before.
“You’re far from a crippled man, and you’re not old.” I poke him gently. “But that’s not all that’s bothering you.”
Cord opens one reddened eye. “It’s not?”
