Kam looked at her face, pale in the dim evening light, her hair leaving shadows over her cheek that mingled with the bruising.I could have lost her.
How could she have become so important to him when he had so many goals? Seeing her like this, battered but still gentle, scared but concerned for a stray dog, loving her family and his and yet wanting privacy—with him—it touched him deep inside, forcing an alignment of all the things he considered important.
Family, independence, proving he was nothing like his father... The shift had been creeping up on him, but thewreck had changed everything in minutes and now Glory topped his list.
In her sleep, she moved, flinched, and somehow cuddled closer to him. Using extra care, he rearranged her so that she didn’t put undue stress on her shoulder, and so the pillow helped to cushion her ribs.
This, he thought, was where he was meant to be. With Glory. For sex in the dark—and against the wall. Morning coffee and silly flirting. During easy times with his family, and when she needed him the most.
The next few weeks would be rough for her, but he’d be with her as often as possible, and when he had to work, his family and Callie would fill in. Glory loved his family; he knew that now. What she didn’t yet understand was that they loved her right back.
11
After a week, Glory felt better. Not fully recovered, but she’d adapted enough that she desperately wanted to reclaim part of her normal routine.
With Callie’s help, she managed a regular shower. Her hair, while not styled exactly the way she preferred, was clean and soft. Her shoulder still ached but she’d learned which moves to avoid and found a regimen of OTC pain meds and ice that kept it tolerable.
Her ribs were another matter, but even they had lightened up. Unfortunately, her bruising had turned several ugly shades of green and yellow. No matter how it shocked Aunt Liz, she wasn’t about to attempt makeup. Kam didn’t seem to care, and no one else mentioned it.
“Well,” said Aunt Liz, as she fretted around her. “If you’re sure there’s nothing I can do for you...”
It still surprised Glory that Liz came by every other day to sit with her for an hour. That first day had been horrid, withLiz nearly falling apart. Streaming tears—which had destroyed her own makeup—Liz wanted to embrace her, but everyone stopped her. She’d tried to dramatically drop down beside her, but Kam quickly cautioned her to go easy.
Finally, Liz had gone behind the couch to lean down very closely. She’d stroked Glory’s bloodstained hair, carefully kissed her cheek, and begged to know if there was anything she could do.
It had unsettled Glory enough that she’d scrambled for a task, ultimately settling on asking her aunt to figure out some prettier clothes that she could easily get on and off.
Her aunt had nailed it. The very next day she’d come by with three outfits, and since then, she’d brought over three more.
“You’ve already done so much, Aunt Liz.” Glory glanced down at the cotton wide-legged drawstring pants she wore. Nothing could be more fashionable and comfortable for her injuries. The roomy buttoned-up tops certainly looked better than any other choices she had. “Thank you again for the clothes.”
“Of course. You’re like a daughter to me,” Liz stated. “I don’t cook as Addie does, and I know you prefer for Callie to help you with your showers.”
“You’re all wonderful to me, and I appreciate it.”
Liz gave her a funny look, then very delicately sat beside her and took her hand. “You do realize that we all love you?”
Never before had Liz spoken like this. Glory wondered if it was Addie’s influence, or if the wreck had upset her that much. “I do know it, and I love you, too, Aunt Liz.”
They both smiled, and then Liz asked, “Does the padded brace around your torso help? The pharmacist told me that many people with broken ribs use it when sleeping.”
“It helps a lot. I’m still sleeping on the couch—” she didn’tknow when she’d be able to fully recline without pain, only that it wasn’t in her immediate future “—but now I don’t wake up as often.”
“Excellent.” Touching her face, Liz frowned. “You’re sure you don’t want any makeup? Maybe just enough to cover the horrific bruising?”
And there was the aunt she knew and adored. Smile widening, Glory said, “You’ve all already seen me like this, and I don’t plan to venture out anytime soon. Putting on makeup would just mean having to take it off.” Brushing her teeth was enough of an ordeal. “Plus, we both know nothing is going to cover all this discoloration. I’ll just have to look wretched until it fades.”
Liz bit her lip, her brow creased. “It’s just that you look worse now than when I first saw you.”
Poor Addie had just entered from the kitchen and she gasped. “Liz, what in the world are you telling her?” Frustration and worry brought her rushing forward. “Don’t listen to her, Glory. You look fine.”
Glory and Liz both snorted—then looked at each other and laughed.
Okay, yeah, that hurt—the snort and the laugh. But how could she have resisted?
Her grimace was enough to have both women suddenly fussing over her.
And in came her own personal hero. “Can she breathe?”
