The Heart's Shrapnel (25 page)

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Authors: S. J. Lynn

BOOK: The Heart's Shrapnel
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“No. I can’t.”

“That’s okay.” My voice is soothing. “This is to be expected.” Grabbing my pen out of my pocket, I jot down some notes and catch him out of the corner of my eye curling his fists against his thighs in frustration.

“Let’s try something else. Try lifting your arms as high as you can and for as long as you can.”

“Okay.”

He slowly starts to lift his arms. The strain he is putting on his body is too much and I can tell that he’s had enough. He only lasts about ten seconds before they drop down to his sides.

“No, I can’t seem to hardly do that either.” He looks away in disgust. It breaks my heart. He should be happy he’s alive, rather than be ashamed of what he can or can’t do. “That’s it. No more, please. I’m exhausted.”

I fluff his pillows behind him and motion for him to lean back. He sighs in relief.

Sweat beads his brow and so I go to get a wet, cold cloth and carefully dab his forehead. He closes his eyes and starts to surrender to the medication.

I hate to disturb him, but there are just a few more things I need answered before he can go to sleep.

“Duke?”

“Hmmm…” he mumbles.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-ni—thirty,” he corrects.

“Good. What is your full name?”

He swallows. “Evan Jacob Frederick, Duke of Warlington.”

“Great. One more question, and I promise to leave you alone for a while. Do you have any family, Evan?” Because he knows his name, I decide to use it from now on. He’s my patient, not my ruler. This should also help to make him more at ease with me.

I wait with bated breath. No answer comes and I begin to think that he’s fallen asleep.

“Cousin and grandmother…” His words are barely audible now as he slips into a peaceful slumber.

Grandmother? This is news to me. Why hasn’t Hugo said anything about her? Why hasn’t she visited? Are they estranged? I scribble this tidbit of information down to ask about later.

All said and done, our first meeting went really well. I’m shocked at how alert he was but realistic. It’s evident that he is going to need some work. His motor skills are not that great.

Tucking him in, I stare down at his face. He’s completely relaxed. There’s no crease between his brows and his jaw has gone slack. I smile to myself at how kind he was, and comical at times. It’s going to be interesting when I introduce his therapy to him.

 

~End of Sneak Peek~

To continue reading,
Through the Fog
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