“How is he?” Sanna made sure to stand even at her brother’s side and not one centimeter behind.
“He broke his wrist, cracked three ribs, lacerated his hand, and thumped his head pretty hard. The worst of the injuries was a full break of his fibula and tibia. They’re finishing up the surgery right now, and he’ll be moved to his room when he’s awake. At least the break was clean, so it should heal well. We’ll need to keep him for a few days and make sure there aren’t any other complications. Eventually he’ll be able to have a walking cast, but he’ll need to take it easy. Something tells me he won’t like that very much, so you’ll need to keep him in check. Assuming he listens to the instructions, he’ll make a full recovery or mostly full recovery. I’ll write up the instructions with his discharge papers.”
“Can we see him?” Sanna asked, rubbing the wood of her necklace relentlessly.
“After the nurses get him settled. Someone will come get you when he’s ready.”
Sanna nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. Pa would be okay. All the anger at Anders about the money, irritation at Gabby and Sarah for bullying Bass, the horror at Thad’s proposal evaporated. None of it mattered anymore. As soon as he got home, everything could return to normal.
? ? ? ? ?
During the doctor’s visit, Isaac had pulled Bass into the hallway, giving the family some privacy, but he was still able to hear every word.
“Do you think my hair is too long?” Bass whispered, struggling even to get the question out. Isaac’s little boy widened his eyes to dry the tears welling above his lower lashes without wiping them away. If Sanna hadn’t told those brats off, Isaac would go back in there and give them a piece of his mind. He tried hard not to judge other people’s parenting styles, but sometimes other people just did it wrong. He knelt down in front of Bass so he could look him straight in the face.
“I don’t. If you like your hair, then it’s perfect.”
Bass tucked his face into the top of his shirt to wipe away the extra wetness on his face, and Isaac gave him the moment. When he emerged, it was clear his mind had moved on. The two leaned against the wall. “We should probably head out.” Then Isaac remembered they didn’t have his car. He had started calculating the miles to walk back to the orchard when Sanna popped out of the room.
“We’re going to be here a while. Did you want to head back? You can take Elliot.”
“That would be great.”
The redness in her cheeks was gone. From the way she’d stormed back into the room, tightly controlled in her movements, he could tell something had happened between her and Thad, but she seemed okay now. Even relieved. Sanna dug in her jean pockets, then patted her back pockets. Her brows scrunched as she turned back to the waiting room. Isaac followed. She looked under all the chairs and poked in the cushions where she had been sitting.
“What are you looking for?” Anders asked.
“My keys.”
“What do they look like?”
“Keys.” Anders glared at her. “Two keys on a key ring.”
Anders joined Isaac, Bass, and Sanna to keep looking. Sanna stood and ran her hands through her hair.
“And you checked all your pockets?” Anders asked.
Sanna sighed but went through the motions of patting herself down, then paused as she hit the pocket on her plaid shirt. She reached in and pulled out the keys.
“And you want to run the orchard by yourself,” Anders said, and sat back down by his family. Sanna huffed and clenched her jaw instead of responding. She held the keys out to Isaac.
“Be good to him.”
As she set the keys in his hand, her fingertips grazed his palm. He resisted the urge to grasp her hand and not let go. Now wasn’t the time. But he could do everything in his power to make sure this woman didn’t need to sell her land that was clearly part of her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sanna stood in the hospital room doorway, watching her father’s chest rise and fall, an IV hooked up next to a blood pressure machine. His leg had metal rods sticking out of it, like an acupuncture practice dummy, and was elevated by a complicated set of pulleys from the ceiling. A faint pink colored his cheeks, so much better than the icy white right after the accident. Without his work clothes on, his body seemed thinner and frailer than normal—the hospital gown didn’t add any bulk to his lean frame. He was her only friend and the only person she had. Would he ever be the same again?
“Stop hovering and get in here,” Einars said. He opened his eyes.
Sanna slipped into the room and stood in the corner near a window, as far from the contraptions as she could be. Her eyes flitted to the sink and mirror, then the curtain and the laptop on a rolling cart. She read the dry-erase board that recorded the names of Einars’s nurses and his current medications. Near the bed were a faux-leather recliner and two more padded chairs, as if people were meant to watch the ill person like a television show. The aroma of hand sanitizer clouded the room as the air chilled her skin. She ran her fingers through her hair—it was getting too long and curled at the ends. Sanna looked everywhere but at her father.
“Sanna-who. Look at me.” Her eyes pulled to his, and she swallowed. “I’m fine. Really. Just a few broken parts that’ll heal up in no time.”
Sanna nodded and resumed her room scanning. Einars studied her.
“Something else happened. What?”
“All you need to know is Thad is an idiot.”
“Oh, I already know everything that happened with him. Mrs. Dibble saw me as they were wheeling me in here. She told me all about it.”
“How did she get to see you before we did?”
Einars coughed. “No one bothers to stop her, do they?” Sanna scowled. “Come here.” He patted the bed next to his good leg, and Sanna sat down. Einars took her hand in his. “Did that fool really propose? Today? At this hospital?”
Sanna focused on his face. If she did that, she could ignore all the machines and pulleys and pins sticking out of his leg.
“He actually used the word merger, Pa. As if that’s what would convince me. Though I suppose it’s better than trying to convince me he loved me.” She rolled her eyes.
“He’s not the one for you. He could never make you happy.”
“Idun’s is the one for me. That’s all I need.”
Einars squeezed her hand.
“Trees and dirt aren’t going to make you happy forever, dear one.”
“But they can’t up and leave me either.” She didn’t want to have this conversation with her dad right now. Sanna pushed her hair out of her face. “I just want you to get better.”
“Things will be back to normal in no time.”
“He’s not wrong about that, but he’s got some work ahead of him,” the doctor said as he came into the room. Anders entered behind him and shut the door. “As we talked about earlier, your father took quite a fall, but with some rest, time, and good rehab, he’ll be back to himself.”