The sound of boots impacting the ground brought Paul awake. He knew he wasn’t overseas on the battlefield. There was no smell of burnt carbon from gunfire, or sulfur from explosives, or iron from fresh blood. The place he was in smelled of antiseptic cleaners. Because he was in a hospital room. The last place in the world he wanted to be.
His immediate response was to hit the ground and run. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t even lift his legs to move from the bed. The pins and needles pain was gone. Laying in the bed, Paul felt nothing below his waist.
He didn’t open his eyes. He wasn’t ready to face the possibility that he might never walk again. The very notion felt like a lie to him.
Something in his heart told him he would walk. That he would walk right past this trial. It was his faith.
Paul had felt that same calling to serve in the military. Yes, he went to fight for his country. But he also went to lend his strength to those souls who couldn’t defend themselves. Paul had felt a niggling that his work was nearing completion just before the bomb that ended his time in service went off.
He’d known in that deep well inside of himself that that door was closed for him. He also felt a nagging that another was opening. He felt certain of his new path the first time he climbed on a horse. He knew with the same certainty that he would ride again. He just had to get out of this hospital first.
The thumping of soles on the ground continued. Thump, thump, thump, squeak. And then again, and again. The incessant noise finally forced Paul’s eyes open to Luke, pacing the length of the small hospital room. The man reached one wall, then turned on his heel to march back to the other side.
“Will you sit down? You’re making me dizzy,” said Paul.
That wasn’t the truth. Paul was lying prone, and he didn’t feel anything. He should be the one panicking. But Luke was doing it well enough for the both of them.
“The doctors haven’t been by here yet,” said Luke. “The nurse said they’d be by this morning. It’s almost afternoon.”
The nurse had informed them that the doctors were reviewing his charts. Dr. Madison Gray and… Paul hadn’t bothered remembering who the second one was. He regretted that he’d asked for that second opinion. Especially if it meant that he wouldn’t get to see Madison Gray again.
She was the bright spot in all of this. He needed a little brightness now. The sky outside offered him none. There were too many clouds in the way of the star out there.
“Maybe I should go and find the nurse?” said Luke. “To see what the holdup is?”
The man had stopped his pacing and was now sitting in the lone chair in the room. Luke’s long body folded awkwardly on the four-legged apparatus. He tried straightening his legs, but they hit the edge of Paul’s bed. He folded them, but his knees bumped a tray.
There was a part of Paul that wanted to revel in his best friend’s discomfort. Maybe that would get him to leave the room. But Paul knew better. Luke would stay with him, no matter what. This behavior went beyond what a best friend would do. Luke did it because he and Paul were family.
Paul knew Luke still felt responsible for his injury. But at the end of the day, Luke had saved his life. Nearly at the expense of his own. Just a few more meters and Luke would’ve been in the blast zone, blown to bits and no longer hovering over Paul.
“It’ll likely be another surgery,” said Luke.
Paul barely kept in his groan. Truth be told, he’d rather face another bomb or pipe to the back than a surgery. He’d gone under the knife once. He did not want to go back down that road.
His body apparently agreed with him. At the mention of the word surgery, the tingles returned to both his legs. The return of the feeling in his lower extremities gave credence to Paul’s belief that this paralysis was just a temporary setback. Likely his body working out the kinks of the injury. It would pass, just as all pain did. There was no need to cut him open. He just needed time.
What he did know was that whatever was going wrong with his body now, it would derail all of his plans if it didn’t resolve soon. He wouldn’t be able to work at the Vance Ranch now, not when he couldn’t be relied on to stand.
Neither could he go back to the Purple Heart Ranch. His time there had run out. Unless he got married.
But that was a no-go. Not because Paul had no desire to marry. Despite all his flirting, he wanted a wife and family of his own. But not until he knew for certain he could perform as a husband and father should.
He should be able to sweep a woman off her feet if he wanted to make her a wife. He should be able to carry her over the threshold of their home. He should be able to chase after any tykes he brought into this world.
A knock sounded at the door. Paul’s heart jumped. But when the door opened, he didn’t see a dark-haired bun with spirals trying to escape the hold. He saw slicked-back blond hair.
“Mr. Hanson,” said Dr. Vader.
“It’s Major,” Paul corrected. The doctor worked in a hospital that catered to vets. and he didn’t bother to use their rank? That was strike one against him.
“Right, Major.” Then the man mock saluted with a grin. “I’ve been looking at your chart, and it tells me it’s possible you don’t need surgery.”
Paul perked up at that. He could get out of here, likely sooner rather than later.
“This is all possibly your body still working out issues from your initial injury and the first surgery.”
Huh? Paul’s estimation of this doctor was growing. But he knew better than to be easily led by the dark side of the force.
“Still, I want to run some more tests to be sure.”
Tests would mean sticking around. Sticking around would mean he’d likely bump into the pretty surgeon again. Dr. Vader droned on, using big words that Paul didn’t understand while wearing a smirk that said he knew he was the smartest person in the room.
Paul wasn’t interested in that particular measuring contest. He leaned to the side to peer over Vader’s shoulder. But he didn’t catch sight of Madison Gray.
“… I think that would be the best course of action.”
Paul blinked his attention back to the male doctor before him. He hadn’t heard a word the man said. Didn’t matter. “Thanks for your opinion, doc. I’ll talk it over with my actual doctor.”
“I am your doctor.”
Paul only just held in his snort. The way the man said that sounded way too much like Vader telling Luke that he was his father.
“No, you gave me a second opinion. Dr. Gray is my doctor. I’d like her opinion on your opinion. Where is she?”