Chapter Nineteen
Clay came fully awake in stages.
Callan and Bobbi were afraid to leave the room and not be there when he finally came to, so they huddled around his bed the rest of the afternoon. Steve arrived early in the evening and took over waiting while Bobbi and Callan went to get a bite to eat.
They returned to the room talking about how surprisingly tasty the hospital food was that evening.
“Do you think these sweet ladies in the cafeteria would share the recipe for their rolls?” Bobbi asked as stood next to Steve’s chair.
Callan smiled. “I don’t know, but I’d love to know their secret for getting the rolls so light and fluffy.” A motion out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned to the hospital bed.
Clay moved his hands and his right leg, as if he was trying to stretch. A grimace of pain raced across his face. Callan heard him moan before he again grew still. She ran out of the room to the nurses’ station and let them know Clay had moved. Mary paged Dr. Fisher before she hurried into the room, right behind Callan.
By the time David arrived, Clay seemed to be growing agitated as he fidgeted on the bed. One eye popped open followed by the other. His eyes looked glazed, unseeing, before he squeezed them shut and grew still again.
Clay heard voices around him. His mom and Callan talked about the delicious rolls they’d eaten for dinner. As he tried to recall the last time he’d eaten, he thought he might be hungry.
He remembered lunch the day they worked the cattle. There was a table loaded with a wide variety of taste-tempting treats. Fuzzy memories floated through his thoughts as he focused on what happened after lunch. He didn’t remember much except Josh yelling at him to get out of the pen.
In an effort to determine where he was and why everything hurt, Clay attempted to move his arms and legs. Only one leg would move. The slightest movement of the other caused intense pain.
He stilled and listened to the conversation around him. His dad offered random comments to the women’s chatter. Something soft, like a blanket, was beneath his hand. His mouth was dry and tasted terrible while his head throbbed on one side. Machines beeped annoyingly loud near his head.
Suddenly, the voices stopped. Footsteps moved quickly out of the room then more footsteps soon returned. Someone sobbed - he thought it was his mother.
The heat of bodies close to him warmed his side. He could smell something familiar and flowery.
Wait a minute. Smell?
He hadn’t been able to smell anything since he was a kid, but Clay could smell and the scent he inhaled was wonderful. He immediately associated the fragrance with Callan. Maybe he was dreaming again. He had dreamed of that scent often, knew it well.
Something soft and light cradled his hand. Callan’s hand. He’d know it anywhere.
Slowly opening his eyes, he looked into Callan’s huge green ones and tried to smile. She was waiting for him to come back, just like she said she would be. Tears pooled in her eyes, yet she smiled and looked unbelievably happy.
“Hi,” Clay rasped.
“Hi there.” Callan wiped her tears with the hand not holding his. “Welcome back. I missed you so much.”
“Missed you,” Clay said, trying to focus on more than just her beloved face. “Thirsty.”
It seemed like mere seconds until a straw touched his lips and cool water trickled down his parched throat.
He looked over and saw a doctor standing on the other side of the bed. He also smiled widely.
“Clay, I’m Dr. David Fisher,” David introduced himself. He knew Clay probably wouldn’t stay awake for long or remember much of what was said, but wanted to put him and his family as much at ease as possible. “You had an accident two weeks ago and have been here at the university hospital. We’re so glad you finally decided to wake up. Your wife was getting lonesome without you. You’re going to be here for a while until your body heals, but we promise to take good care of you.”
Clay felt exhausted by this little effort. He tried to nod his head but couldn’t quite manage it. Instead, he squeezed Callan’s hand again and closed his eyes, drifting back to sleep.
Callan looked at David, still crying and smiling. “He’s back!”
It took a few more days before Clay was able to stay awake for any period of time and show signs of being alert. Between Callan, his parents, her dad, Jake, Josh and Jenna, there was most always someone with him when he was awake to answer questions and get him a cool drink.
David stopped by one afternoon when Clay was wide-awake and went over the category of his injuries, the progress he’d made, and what to expect in the next weeks and months.
The doctor attempted to stress how fortunate Clay was to be healing so well, but also to be mentally at one hundred percent. After the extent of the injury to his head, David hadn’t dared hope for such a miracle.
David explained that once he was stable enough to move around on his own, he could go home. He assured Clay they would soon get him out of bed and begin physical therapy.
Clay asked him about his returned sense of smell. David didn’t have a medical explanation for it, but encouraged Clay to look at it as a very special gift. As the scent of Callan and her perfume teased his nose, he thought the whole thing might have been worth it just to be able to savor her fragrance. Almost.
The next morning, Callan worked on her laptop while Clay watched television. It had been unusually quiet without nurses or doctors poking their heads inside the room as they usually did every hour or so.
When they did, Callan usually took a break to stretch her legs or make a business call. Clay took those opportunities to take care of basic necessities. The last thing he wanted was his wife caring for him like he was a baby or an invalid. There were certain circumstances when a man had to draw a line.
Clay hoped one of the nurses would poke her head in the door soon, so Callan would leave, but he had no such luck. Anxious, he looked to see if he could reach the nurse call button.
Callan noticed his distress. “What is it Clay?” she asked sweetly, setting aside her computer and rising from the chair. “Can I get you something? You look uncomfortable. Can I fix your pillow or adjust the bed?”
“No.”
“Well, what’s the… Oh.” Realization dawned on her. She bent to grab the bedpan when Clay grasped her wrist with an amazing amount of strength, pulling her startled gaze up to meet the cold look in his normally warm blue eyes.
“No, Callan. Get out. Go find a nurse and get out.” Clay was on the verge of losing his composure, especially when Callan laughed at him.
“For Pete’s sake, Clay, it isn’t a big deal,” she said, trying to pry his fingers off her wrist.
“I mean it, Callan. Get out. Now! Get out!” Clay hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he didn’t back down when a wounded look settled in her eyes.
Without saying a word, she turned and walked out of the room. A nurse soon appeared and gave him a look of disgust. “I hear we’ve got a grumpy bear in here this morning,” she said as she neared the bed.
Clay’s only answer was to shoot her a frosty glare.
Callan was noticeably absent from the room for more than an hour. When she did return, she picked up her laptop and returned to work. Finally, she looked at him and sighed. “I know this is hard for you, but I’m your wife. I’m willing to help you with anything you need. Okay?”
“No, Callan, it isn’t okay. Nothing is okay. I’m not okay. Being here isn’t okay. You taking care of me like I’m a baby isn’t okay. Don’t offer again. Ever.” Clay pinned Callan to her seat with a seething glare.
She raised a brow and gave him a look that said he acted like a cranky child.
Clay didn’t care. “I’m your husband, Callan. Some things aren’t up for discussion. If I was the one sitting there and you were lying here, in this insufferable bed, would you let me take care of your personal needs?”
A look of horror flew ac
ross Callan’s face. “Absolutely not! That would be… well…” Callan sighed, closed her laptop, and stood next to the bed. “You win.” She picked up his hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.
Clay decided if he’d won this skirmish without much fight, he would press his advantage. The more awake and aware he was, the more he hated for Callan to see him so broken and helpless. If he thought anyone would listen to him, he’d send her away and not let her come back until he was released and ready to go home.
“Callan, I don’t want you here all the time. You need to rest. You need to go back to work. You need to resume having a life.” When she started to argue, he hurried on. “I mean it. I need some space and time by myself. I don’t need you hovering over me. Your work is piling up at the office. Go home, Callan. Please, just go home.”
She took a deep breath, trying to keep her hurt feelings and emotional turmoil in check. “We’ll see what David has to say when he next stops by.” She picked up a cup of cold water and set it on his bed tray, where he could reach it.
“What David has to say about what?” the doctor asked as he breezed into the room. “I’ve heard you’re not being a good patient today, Clay. What has you out of sorts? Are you in a lot of pain?”
Callan tried to hide a smile when Clay glared at her. “Clay has decided that he needs some space and thinks I should go away and leave him alone. What do you think, David?”
“Well, I think it would be a good idea for you to start returning to a normal routine. That way, when this big guy does go home, you’ll be ready for him. I know you’re already working from here, but I think you could start getting back into at least a part-time schedule.”
Callan looked at David like he’d turned into the world’s biggest traitor. Hiding her irritation, she pasted on a fake smile and shrugged her shoulders. “If that’s what you think is best, who am I to argue?”
David checked Clay’s charts, poked around a bit, and mumbled a few comments. As he walked out of the room, he turned to Clay. “You’re doing extremely well. I’ll come back this afternoon and we’ll get you out of that bed for a change.”
“Let me walk out with you David,” Callan said, as they stepped into the hallway. They walked toward the elevator while Callan expressed her concerns with the doctor.
“Do you really think I need to leave him alone?” She hoped the answer would be no.
David hid his smile. Clay was in the premier hospital in the region under the care of some of their very best staff round-the-clock. That was beside the point.
Clay struggled with being helpless and vulnerable, especially when it came to Callan. If he knew his patient at all, he knew Clay didn’t want his status as her champion and protector undermined by his current situation.
“Yes, I’m absolutely certain he’ll be fine. I think he really could use a little space. He seems like a guy who’s used to having his own way, doing things the way he likes, when he likes. It’s probably been really hard for him to be so helpless and overrun with people all the time. Add in the fact that he can now smell things – good, bad and otherwise – where he couldn’t before, in addition to his injuries, it’s no wonder he’s a little out of sorts. What brought the bear out in him this morning?”
“I offered to get the bed pan for him,” Callan said, with a blush. “He was a little upset about me helping him, so I got one of the nurses.”
David laughed. “Well, if it was me, I certainly wouldn’t want my wife to help me either. Leave him with a little dignity, Callan. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve probably always had a case of hero-worship for your husband. He knows it and wants it to stay that way. Even if he is bed-ridden for the time being, he won’t always be. Look at it from his perspective and you’ll better know how to handle him and help him as he heals.”
Callan smiled and nodded her head. “Thanks for the advice, David. I really appreciate it. You’ve not only been a great doctor, but also a very good friend. We both are very thankful for you.”
“It’s what I’m here for,” David said, as he stepped into the elevator and waited for the doors to close.
Heart of Clay Page 40
