Chapter 18

Harper sat in the hospital waiting room, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Owen was by her side, while Carrie paced back and forth, each step in time with Harper's pounding heart.

Her phone vibrated, shattering the tense silence. She glanced at the screen and Daniella's name flashed brightly. For the first time tonight, Harper was happy to be distracted by her phone. Owen had told her about the surprise birthday party her mom and granddad had organized. After they'd gone through the names of the people her mom thought would be there, Harper had called Daniella to see if she knew who else was on the guest list.

"Hi, Daniella," Harper said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Have you heard anything?"

"Not yet." Harper looked around the room. There were so many people still waiting to be seen that she was glad the stroke support team had seen her granddad straightaway. "But we should know what's happening soon."

"That's good. I've contacted everyone on the list Owen gave me and a few others I knew would be at your party. I've canceled everything, and Harrison's at your granddad's house in case someone shows up who didn't get the message."

"Thanks, Daniella. I don't know what I'd do without you." Harper's throat was tight with emotion. "Mom said there's a lot of food on the table. If it won't fit in the refrigerator, take it home or give it to Pastor John for The Welcome Center."

"Don't worry," Daniella assured her. "Harrison's already put most of the food away. Some of the meat wouldn't fit in your freezer, so I put it in ours. I'll bring it around to your granddad's house when there's more room."

"Thanks."

Daniella sighed. "I'm so sorry your granddad isn't well. If you need anything, call me."

"I will." Harper ended the call, unable to focus on anything other than her granddad's condition.

Before she put the phone away, a woman in a white coat approached them. "The family of Benjamin Nelson?" she asked in a gentle voice.

"Yes, that's us," Carrie said quickly, her voice steadier than Harper's.

The neurologist introduced herself and guided them to a small family conference room.

Once seated, she confirmed their fears. Benjamin had suffered a stroke. Harper listened, numb, as the doctor detailed the extent of the damage, the areas of the brain that'd been affected, and the likely long-term impacts.

"Given the severity of his stroke," she explained, "Benjamin will require around-the-clock care, at least for the next few months. Although it's too early to give you a full prognosis, it's unlikely he'll be able to live at home without significant help."

The room felt both too large and suffocatingly small as Harper absorbed what that meant for her granddad. Owen's hand reached for hers. It was a lifeline when she was overwhelmed with fear.

The neurologist continued, outlining potential rehabilitation programs, the importance of a supportive environment for recovery, and the challenges they might face. "It's crucial to consider his quality of life," she emphasized, "and to make decisions that align with his wishes and well-being."

Over the next few days, the stroke support team would meet with them to discuss care facilities, the potential for in-home care, and the resources available to help them navigate the decisions ahead.

What they didn't discuss was what would happen if her granddad had another stroke. Even with the best medical team in the world, there was a high risk he'd never leave the hospital alive.

Owen leaned closer. "Are you all right?" he whispered.

Tears stung Harper's eyes. After what had happened today, she didn't think she'd ever be okay again.

Instead of trying to speak, she took a deep breath and sent him a quick nod. When the neurologist handed Carrie a folder of information, Harper's mind raced, piecing together a future that looked nothing like the one they'd imagined. She didn't know how they'd tell her granddad he couldn't go home for a while.

Carrie broke the silence. "We need to be strong for him, to make the choices he'd want us to make."

The words hit Harper like a physical blow. They'd had the same discussion when her nana was receiving palliative care. When her granddad had his previous stroke.

After the neurologist promised to update them as soon as there was more news, Harper felt a deep sense of despair. The future loomed large and uncertain, completely different from the birthday celebration her granddad had organized.

Owen parkedhis truck outside the medical clinic, his mind full of concern for Harper and her family. He'd expected Harper to be at the hospital with her mom, but when he'd called earlier, she'd told him she was at the clinic. With a deep breath, he picked up the box from the passenger seat, hoping the gift might bring her a small amount of comfort.

When he stepped inside the clinic, Harper was behind the reception desk. Her smile weary but genuine.

"Hi, Owen," she said, her eyes lighting up for a moment at the sight of him.

"Hey," Owen replied. "I thought you'd be with your granddad today."

Harper rubbed her temples. "Mom's with him now. We decided it's easier if there's only one of us there at a time. The hospital has restrictions and... it's just easier to manage."

Owen nodded. He knew how tiring it was for the patient if more than one person visited them at a time. "We did the same thing when Dad had a heart attack. It was easier for him and less draining on us." He looked around the waiting room. Everyone was reading magazines or on their cell phones.

"How's your granddad?" he asked gently, setting the box on the counter.

"The same, really. We have to wait and see if he improves over the next few weeks." Harper's voice held a mix of hope and resignation. "The stroke team's doing everything they can. Granddad's on medication to manage the swelling in his brain and to keep his blood pressure under control. They're also starting some mild physiotherapy to keep his muscles from getting too weak. The next few days are important."

"If you or your mom need a ride to the hospital or anything else, just ask. I'm only around the corner."

Harper bit her bottom lip. "Thanks. Knowing you're able to help means a lot."

He pushed the box toward her, trying to lighten the mood. "I bought you one of Megan's supersized muffins. I know it was your birthday yesterday, but with everything going on, I thought you could use a little celebration."

Harper's eyes softened as she opened the box to reveal a large chocolate muffin with fancy vanilla frosting on top. A small, genuine smile spread across her face. "It's lovely. Thank you."

"I walked past Sweet Treats this morning and saw Megan putting them in the display cabinet. I know it's not much, but I hoped it might make your day a little brighter."

"It's perfect."

Warmth spread through him at her words. He'd wanted to bring her a moment of happiness and it looked as though he had. "Happy birthday for yesterday, Harper."

"I'm glad you didn't tell everyone I turned thirty-two," she whispered.

Owen looked behind him at the people sitting in the waiting room. They were watching them with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Harper turned twenty-one yesterday," he told them with a smile.

"That happens to me each year," Gordon Jessop said with a grin. "What about you, Harold?" He nudged the man sitting beside him. "How often have you turned twenty-one?"

Harold frowned. "Last count, I'd say sixty-two times, give or take a few years." His twinkling blue eyes locked on Harper. "What you make of each year means more than the passing of time."

Gordon chuckled. "I didn't know retired ranchers were poetic."

"It comes with spending long hours on a horse in the middle of nowhere," Harold told his friend.

Harper smiled, then glanced at her watch. "I'd offer to share the muffin with you, but I've had my break and I can't leave the desk."

Gordon put down the magazine he was holding. "We can't let a few people in the waiting room interrupt your birthday celebrations. I'll sit at your desk while you're gone."

Harper's eyes widened. "I can't let you do that. What if someone needs urgent care?"

"We've got eyes," Harold said as he joined his friend. "And we know where Zac's office is. If anyone looks like they're about to fall over, we'll tell Zac."

It sounded like a great idea to Owen, but Harper shook her head.

"I can't leave."

Zac joined them in the waiting room. "Where do you need to go?"

"Owen bought her a birthday muffin," Gordon explained. "We said we'd look after the clinic while she has a break."

"That sounds okay to me," Zac told Harper. "Gordon and Harold know where I am. If anything happens, they'll find me."

Harold pulled another chair closer to Harper's desk. "Off you go, then. We can't do too much damage from behind here."

With their serious expressions daring Harper to think differently, she gave in gracefully. "Okay, but I'll only be gone for ten minutes."

Gordon shooed Harper out of her chair. "Take as much time as you need."

With a bemused smile, Owen held out his hand. "Come on. We might even have time for a quick cup of coffee."

Zac grinned. "On that happy note, I'm ready to see Mrs. Jones."

As Zac's next patient gathered her coat and bag off the seat beside her, Owen led Harper away from her desk. She might not have had a birthday party yesterday, but he was determined to give her more than one happy memory of turning another year older.