Against Me (Cedar Tree Book 3) Read Free

time, and before I know what’s happening, Caleb has me outside on our way to his truck.
    "Wait. Where are we going?" I ask him.
    "You're tired, and we have a long drive back."
    "Back already?"
    "It's a three and a half hour drive, little one. You'll be asleep within 20 minutes, I bet," he says, smiling as he lifts me out of the chair and into the passenger seat.
    "I can stand for a bit, you know," I remind him.
    "Yeah, I know, but you're tired and had a few drinks. Not taking any chances."
    I choose not to say anything, but simply allow myself to enjoy his fussing, just this once because he's right. I am tired and I'm not looking forward to the drive back.
    Of course he’s right. We’re barely past Cortez before I doze off because I can't remember a damn thing after that, not until we get back to the centre where once again, Caleb lifts me out of the truck and into my chair before wheeling me inside.

    Larchwood Inns is the rehabilitation centre where I have spent the past months relearning everything I lost as a result of my head injury. I remember clearly the first time I opened my eyes in the hospital in Durango and saw Caleb's face. It surprised me and I wanted to say something but my ears couldn't recognize the sounds that came from my mouth. I was terrified and not quite sure what was happening to me. When Caleb called for the nurse, he wouldn't let go of my hand. His calm voice told me not to try and speak yet, just to give it time. When the doctor showed up and told me the extent of my injuries, his thumb never stopped stroking the skin of my hand. The news was devastating for me. I was told I had to relearn everything, and that it wasn't clear what the long-term effects were going to be. In a flash, I saw my life as it was falling apart. My independence was gone. With no remaining family, at least none that I knew of at the time, the only option for me was to transfer to an inpatient rehabilitation facility, where my basic abilities would have to be relearned.
    There were times I wished I hadn't survived. The idea of that kind of dependency went against everything I had worked for. Thirty-seven years old and back to having someone wipe my ass. It was humiliating and demeaning, but Caleb was a constant―encouraging me to claim my life back. He also seemed to be the only one who was able to interpret my incoherent mumblings, or perhaps it was his uncanny ability to read people in general. Regardless, I was glad whenever he was around. It almost felt like I was able to communicate after all. Although why he insisted on being at my bedside all the time was a mystery to me. I mean, we'd been friends for years, but I never would have expected of him to spend as much time with me as he did.
    Moving from the hospital to the centre had jump-started my recovery. At first I was taken aback by the aggressive approach and intensive full days of therapy, but I was grateful for it the first time I managed to speak a fully formed and coherent sentence. My biggest obstacle remains my lower half. My hands I was able to use almost from the start, but the larger motor skills lagged. My arms were getting stronger, but my legs simply wouldn't move. To this day they don't move, not the way I want them to anyway. With support I can now stand, but walking is still difficult and I'm beginning to become discouraged.
    I know this trip to Cedar Tree was an attempt by Caleb to shift my focus, to see if it would motivate me to keep working at it. It did, but most of the time I'm bored out of my brain, and despite asking both Gus and Caleb many times if I can do some computer research for GFI, they're hesitant to allow me to focus on anything but my recovery. Me? I’m starting to wonder if I'll ever walk again. Nevertheless, I still let the nurse wheel me to my physio sessions, where I know I'll come away frustrated again.

    "Hey Katie. How's my pretty neighbor doing?"
    Juan is sitting right outside the physio clinic where he sits every day,