Summer At Willow Tree Farm: The Perfect Romantic Escape

‘Dr Grant gave you some heavy duty painkillers, why aren’t you using them?’

Because they made him feel woozy and gave him nightmares. He’d woken up the first night sweating and swearing and thrashing about like a madman in the grip of a dream that had felt far too real. He hadn’t taken the painkillers since.

‘Bugger off.’

‘No.’ She pushed away from the desk and lifted his wrist.

He flinched. ‘Don’t.’

‘I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to take the bandage off.’

‘What for?’

‘Because look at it.’ She cradled his hand, holding it up. ‘It’s filthy.’

She had a point. He’d done his best but it had been next to impossible to wash and dress himself one-handed, let alone eat and write and attend to all the other chores he had piling up around him. Keeping the bandage dry and clean, as the doctor had recommended, had been the least of his worries.

‘You try keeping a bandage clean in a farmyard,’ he said, but the truth was, the fight had drained out of him.

He flinched as she peeled off the surgical tape around his wrist.

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